Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 483 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

we pe ————- - = rr ee + —— is a park of gigantic trees, while the underbrush looks like a wilderness, and thousands of acres of weed-grown fields, once flourishing with grain, now look desolate and dreary in the ex- treme, Time was when that old mansion, known as the Kenyon Castle, was tbe center of attrac- tion in the wealthy neighborhood in which it stood, and when lighted up at night its stained windows caused it to be compared to some grand old cathedral in which night service was being held. {ts lord and master was then the gayest of the gay, and the son who inherited it was equally as fond of extending unbounded hospitality to kindred and friends. ; The mansion was filled with elegant furni- ture, brought over from England, and the younger son of a noble, the builder of the ** cas- tle,” as it was generally called, was proud of his ancestry and name. Possessed of riches, he had come to America to travel, had fallen in love with a young girl, the daughter of a Maryland planter, and had built the castle for his home. It is with the second generation that we have to deal, the second and the third, the son of the Englishman and the Maryland beauty and his children, When ‘‘ Lord Kenyon,” as the neighbors call- ed the Englishman, died, he left his estates to his son, Cyle Kenyon, and he, marrying a Balti- more belle, retained the old bome, and settled down to a life of enjoyment. The result of this union was two children, twins, and brother and sister. Their mother was of a studious nature, and did all she could to advance the education of her two beautiful children, for they were indeed beautiful, while the father, a thorough sports- man, in his turn had them instructed in all out- door amusements, The result was that the brother and sister ar- rived at their sixteenth year, thoroughly versed in books and sports, and while they could con- verse intelligently upon literary topics with re- fined people of their set, they could also give points on the needs of horses and dogs, and at the same time were noted as crack shots, daring cross-country riders, and as good sailors as were on the coast, for the grounds of Castle Kenyon ran down to the Chesapeake’s shores, and the beautiful bay was visible for miles from three points of observation on the piazzas. Keeping his hunters, his kennel of hounds and his yachts and row-boats, as he did, the twins were able to learn as much out-doors in one way, as they could within doors from the extensive libraries. Mrs. Kenyon herself being a fine hcrsewoman, and devoted to yachting, did not object to her children following their bent, while so close was the companionship of brother and sister, that neither would act without the other either in study or pleasure. The result was that.Kate Kenyon wasas skill- ed in shooting, ene and sailing, as was her brother, King, while he also was an expert per- former on the harp and guitar, and at the same time sung and danced well. So alike were the two, that when in their six- teenth year, when they were wont to change at- tire with each other, even their parents were deceived as to their identity, for in size and bearing they resembled as much as in face, King’s hands and feet being but a trifle larger than hissister’s, To those that spoke of King as effeminate, it was shown that Kate could put to blush many a masculine, admirer with gun, rod, and on horseback, and as a sailor, and if her brother ex- celled her in‘anything it was in strength, for he possessed wonderful power in his slightly made, graceful form. So they were a well-matched, strange pair, and people wondered what would be the end, when those two were old enough to love, other than brother and sister, and would separate their lives. Happy, careless and free, they knew no care, loved their parents, clung to their home, and were. favorites with all who knew them, from the lowest slave on the plantation to the richest planter neighbor. But at last a cloud crossed the horizon of their young lives, for their beautiful mother was taken from them by death, and Castle Kenyon became shrouded in deepest gloom when the wife and mother was borne from the elegant yemne to a) resting-place over on the hill- In his sorrow, Mr. Kenyon left the home with his children to travel awhile, and silence and desolation fell upon Castle Kenvon. | i rr eee A Cabin Boy’s Luck. CHAPTER IL. MANNING THE LIFE-BOAT. A YEAR and more passed away, ere planter Kenyon and his daughter returned to Castle Kenyon, for King had remained abroad to com- plete his studies, It was a gloomy, storm-threatening morning when the carriage drove up to the mansion with the father and daughter. Old servants had been notified, and had the home in readiness to welcome them, and a tempting dinner was soon served. Yot all seemed dreary and cold to the'two travelers, and Castle Kenyvon was not the abode of the olden time. Over in the little burying-ground lay the wife and mother, and far away across the sea, King, the son and brother, had been left, so that deso- lation seemed to reign supreme. There was no sunshine without doors, and all was shadow witbin. The dinner was hardly tasted, and then the father took his hat and walked out, and Kate knew well where bis steps would lead him—to the grave over on the hillside. Then Kate too left the house and strolled toward the cliff that overlooked the sea. The heavens were dark with clouds and grow- ing blacker rapidly, for a fearful storm was sweeping up the bay. There was little wind about the cliff,,or upon the bay near at hand, and a small schooner-of- war was trying to make some harborage before the coming of the storm. ‘* She cannot make Mallard Cove, and with- out a pilot she can never enter our barbor, so she'll have to face it,” said Kate Kenyon, with the manner of one who had taken in the situa- tion at a glance. Below ber was a small cove, a few acres in size, with an earthen arm jutting out and heavi- ly wooded, which protected it from the sea. This was the castle harbor, but that it was difficult of entrance and exit, a glance from the cliff showed, for there were numerous shoals here and there that rendered the channél nar- row and crooked. In the cove were several sailboats, and along the shore half a dozen skiffs and rowboats, all of which had been fitted up to be ready for use on the return of the master. ‘‘If I had come out half an hour before, I could have reached the schooner, and then pilot- ed her in when the storm struek her; but I could not do it now, though if brother King were only here we'd try it. ‘Father is over at mother’s grave, or I’d ask him, and—well, [ll have to give it up; but Pll run in and fit up for the storm, so as to see how the schooner stands it, for yonder tempest will be no child’s play.” Rapidly she walked away, and soon after re- turned to the cliff ony ees in a long storm- coat, and wearing an oil-skin tarpaulin which would protect her from the rain. The little schooner was now just off the en- trance to the cove, about a mile distant, and barely moving along under the pressure of the light wind. The storm was now awful in its threatening aspect, and rushing up the bay at terrific speed. ‘* Poor little schooner! you wil have to fight hard for your life, for 1 never saw a worse storm,” said Kate. | Then, an instant after, she impatiently added: ‘* Why does he not-luff sharp, while he has a breeze at all, and throw his bows into the teeth of the gale? “Ww hat does her commander mean?” As she asked herself this question, the bows of the schooner slowly came around, and were thrown to meet the storm face to face. ‘* Ah! he knows what he is about after all. ‘‘Now to see the result, and may Heaven moore the gallant little craft!” and she raised er beautiful eyes upward, showing that she meant her words indeed as a prayer. ‘* He has stripped her now to her-storm-sails, and he can do no more— Ah! there the storm is upon her! Oh, God!” e tempest had indeed come down upon the little schooner, and with such force, such irre- sistible fury, that the snapping of spars and cracking of timber mingled with the savage roar of wind and wave, and brought from Kate Kenyon’s lips the appealing exclamation: ‘‘She is dismasted and will be driven ashore, unless be gets out his anchors. ‘¢ But will they hold in the teeth of the tem- 2 ‘“‘Ha! I see the crew letting go the anchors, That commander knows what he is about. _ “Ab! the sea and ig hides her from sight, and I must seek shelter.” — = ee ,NEEeeee eee eee ee rrr rrr crc TT cr LL LLL She bounded back from the cliff to the shelter of a rustic arbor, and hardly had she reached it when the wind came against the land witha force that seemed to fairly shake it, The little arbor rocked to and fro, limbs were torn from trees and sent flying along like straws, while huge monarchs of the forest, which had battled with the tempests of half a century went dowa like wounded soldiers in battle before a mighty charge. The heavens were of ebony hue, the clouds driving along with frightful velocity, and the sighing of the winds was appalling, while the roar of the waves, hurled back from the shore, seemed like thunder. Crouching in the arbor, her hands clasped to- gether, the words of Kate Kenyon showed that it was not for herself that she feared, for over and over again she said: ‘‘Heaven spare that little schooner and her brave crew!” Suddenly she started, for there came a sound that she knew but too well. 1t was not the howling of the wind, the roar of the surf, nor the deep roll of thunder. Again it was heard, and then came the words from her lips that told the story: ‘‘ Tt is anappeal for help; the schooner is com- ing ashore! ‘* But they shall not appeal in vain, for I will aid them !” Out of the arbor she bounded like a rocket, along the cliff down a steep pathway, and pant- ing with her rapid run, she drew up on the beach near a small boat-house built over the water, at the end of a sinall pier. Seizing arope sbe pulled quickly, and, with the first stroke of a large bell in the tower of the boat-house, out came from its shelter half a dozen negroes, dressed in white duck and tar- paulins. ‘‘Oh, missy, is it you, miss,” cried one. ‘‘ Yes, Jaspar, and I wish you to man the life- boat at once.” ‘* Missy, we came down here when we seen de storm comin’ up, and the schooner lyin’ off yonder, thinkin’ she might need help; but we hain’t never seen no blow like this, and dasn’t go out, missy.” ‘You must go, for I will go with you.” ‘* Oh, no, missy, it would be death to go!” ‘** Into the life-boat I command you! ‘*Quick! for while you hesitate, life is being lost. ‘‘ Hark! do you not hear that appealing cry for aid? ‘* Into the boat, I say, and Igo with you!” Her commanding spirit broke down all oppo- sition, and the brave negro crew sprung into the life-boat, seized their oars, and when she shot out from under the shelter of the boat-house, Kate Kenyon sat at the helm, her hands grasp- ing the tiller in a way that showed she knew what was before her, and her confidence in her powers to face all dangers. CHAPTER III. TO THE RESCUE. WHEN planter Cyle Kenyon left the castle, as the reader bas seen, he wended his way through the park to the little hillside burying-ground. It was a third of a mile from the mansion, beautifully situated upon a stoping hillside, and in the little walled-in space was every indication that the last resting-place of the dead was well cared for by loving hands. There were monument trees there, flowers of many kinds, a rustic seat, and a spring of pure vawer wound its rippling way down the bill- side. There were three graves there, two together, and at their heads was one marble slab, bearing the name of Cyle Kenyon’s parents. The third grave was unmarked by a monu- ment, but was one bed of violets, . To this grave did the planter wend his way, and dropping into the rustic seat near by, he buried his face in his hands, and thus sat fora long, long time. e had idolized his beautiful wife, and she had been the one love of his life. She lay there in the grave at his feet, aad though be had wandered far in other lands, and mingled with the world, the saan, shades of twilight, wherever he had been, had brought into his memory that lonely grave. } Now, after more than a year of roving, he once more stood near his wife—he alive; she dead, and forever lost to him. Was it a wonder that in the moment of that return, in being where he was, that he did not became mutterings of the storm that was rising ra 2 e <a BS not to know that the heavens con