Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 468 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

“x — a — ee - “Ah, my boy, I feel that I cannot live, and must follow r Vesta.” ** She is dead, sir?’ inquiringly said the boy, as he gazed in awe upon the beautiful face ‘* Yes,” and the man could hardly articulate the word. So the boy ran to the spring with a gourd, and brought it back full of cold avater. Eagerly the man drank it, and it seemed he would never quench his thirst; but the lad re- strained him, and said: ‘¢ You must not drink too much now, sir; but I have something here for you to eat.” But he waved away the food, and said, faintly: ‘Too late!” Then he took from his pocket a key, and said, speaking evidently with the utmost difficulty: ‘“My boy, you are a brave lad, and risked your life to save mine. Do you live near here?” ‘¢ Two leagues away, sir, up the coast.” ‘* Who are you?” ‘* A fisher lad.” ‘¢ One above his calling, I should say.” ‘‘ My father is a gentleman, sir, and was once rich; but weare very poor now.” “Tam very glad I can help you, my boy; but will you dome a great favor?’ xem sir.” ‘‘T have here a watch, ring, and scarf-pin, and you see upon the breast of this r dead child a brooch, while upon her wrist is a brace- let, on her finger a ring. ‘‘Take them and mine, when I am dead, and keep them for the hands of one person only. ‘‘ Write to him and tell him that I married the woman I loved, and gave up title, wealth— all for her. ‘Tell him we shipped upon a brig bound for America, and she went down, and you saved us, her dead body and my living one from being dashed to pieces upon the rocks. ‘* You can write, can you not?” ‘‘ Yes, sir; but I hope to be able to go toschool and learn more.” ‘‘ Well, write to this address, and tell him how I died, and where I am buried, for you must bury me and poor Vesta, ‘* Tell him you hold in your keeping my watch _ and other things, and her jewelry, and will give it to his authorized agent for receiving them. ‘Tell him to give to Molsey, the Gypsy Queen, my wife’s mother, the jewelry that belonged to Vesta, and tell her of our fate. ‘¢ Then will we rest content in our graves. ‘‘ Now, my lad, in this carpet-sack are papers also for my brother’s hand, and you will find his nasne and address here. ‘« Also there is gold here, one thousand pounds, and some silver. ‘‘This is yours,” ‘*Oh, no!” ‘* Nay, I mean what I say, for it is yours, my lagacy to you, and it is mine to give, ‘“‘He to whom I write gains much by my death, and is rich, and I am more than happy in being able to help you.” ‘“* But, sir, you may not die.” ‘Ah, my lad, I have no desire to live now, and so do not have pluck enough to hold on to life. “T am dying as I talk to you, and shall slip life’: cable as calmly as did my beautiful Vesta. ‘¢ Remember what I have told you.” ‘*T will not forget, sir.” ‘And stay by me until I am dead,” “‘T will not leave you, sir,” said the brave boy, his eyes filled with tears, and then he added : ‘It’s only a few leagues inland, sir, to where the doctor lives, and I could go and fetch him, and perhaps he would save you.” ‘‘No, my boy, nothing would save me now, for I am doomed. ** What is your name?” ‘* Ned, sir.” ** Ned what?” ‘‘My realname is Edward Everard, sir; but they call me Ned and Fisher Boy Ned.’ ‘You promise then to obey my dying injunc- tion, Edward Everard?” “‘T do, sir.” se m it much depends, my lad, and I be- lieve 1 can trust you, so die with no dread you will deceive me. ‘‘ Here, Edward, give me your hand and hold mive until I die; it will not be long that you will feel my pulse beating, for I feel that the end soon must come.” sareenetl ve - be a of the boat, and e hand of the dying man. The eyes of the man closed, his breathing be- eame tabored, and the poor boy, passing through nag dread ordeal, did not move from his posi- The shadows deepened upon the sea and land, the sun broke through a rift of clouds in the west and tinged the waters with a rosy light, as it touched the horizon, and the boy took it as a good omen, for superstition ran rampant in those days. But, as his eyes fell upon the sea, glowing under the warm touches of the setting sun, a whisper broke through the parched lips of the dying man; but it reached the ears of the boy, and it was: ae ae " , hen the hand sli rom the grasp of Ned Everard, and he PPe alone with the dead, CHAPTER VI. THE GRAVES BY THE SEA. WHEN Ned saw that the man was dead, the tears drop from his eyes in sorrow, for be had a tender heart, brave as he was, Then he spread a blanket over the two forms, piacing the man by the side of his wife in the ife-boat, which he hauled off from the shore and anchored, where it would be safe from any wild beast. Taking his rifle and game then in his skiff, he started for home by water, for the sea was running down and the fierce gale had blown it- self out. Still the ocean was wild enough to appall a heart less fearless than his from risking it, and — was now upon land and sea. unning along under the lee of the island for awhile, he then boldly sailed out into the wild waters, but the tide having begun to run out, there was no danger of his being swept irresist- oy upon the rocky coast and dashed to pieces. here was an island here, an ugly rock there, and ragged reefs raised their threatening tops on"every side; but Ned Everard seemed to know the waters thoroughly, and avoiding every peril, after a run of a couple of hours, rounded a bold headland and ran into a little basin that was so well sheltered that it was as calm as a mill-pond. Upon the hillside above where he ran his skiff ashore upon the sands a light glimmered, and, taking: his game, rifle and the carpet-bag, he made his way up the steep path to a small cabin of but three rooms. A dog growled as he approached, but recog- nizing him, came bounding to his side. ‘‘ Ah, yes! you smell fresh meat, Tiger; but I’ve got something better than game in this bag,” said Ned. ust then the door of the cabin was thrown open, and a woman appeared, ‘Ts it Ned, Tiger?” she called out to the dog, trying to, penetrate the darkness as she spoke. ‘Yes, mother, I am home again, though I came pretty near staying away all night,” an- swered the boy. ‘‘It stormed so this afternoon that we were anxious about you, fearing you would attempt to round Bald Head Point in the storm,” said the woman, who was a ladylike-looking person of thirty-five, dressed in homespun, and with a face full of character and gentleness. ‘‘ I did more than that, mother, as I will tell a replied the boy, entering the cabin and nding her the game as he spones while he placed the carpet-sack upon the floor. ‘‘My son, have you company with you?” asked a man, who was sea in an easy-chair near the large chimney, and whose leg was rest- ing upon a box, and splintered and bandaged as though broken, ‘‘ No, father, I have no company, but I have had, and I wish you to listen to me—you and mother—while I tell you a strange story.” And the boy sat down near his father, while his mother laid aside the game and came back to his side, for something in his manner and words impressed her with the feeling that he em indeed something of importance to tell them. With the deepest interest the mother and father listened to the story of Ned, and when he had told all, they discussed the matter over in all of its details. At last Mrs. Everard said: ‘* Ned, you will have to go to the town to- morrow, tell your story, and give up the papers and money.” ‘No, mother, I will do as I pledged I would to that poor man,” said the boy, firmly. ‘*You will ox inly. let the judge ans for you will get into trouble if you do not.” ‘No, wife, I see no reason why others than ourselves should know of this matter; for I know well old Judge Wynan’s trickery, and he would appropriate the money and then a reward for showing where the bodies were to those who right to claim them. had a rrr re LLL LLL LDL LL LT i Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. —— ‘* Ned is right, and these bodies must be look- ed upon as merely drifting ashore; anu Ned cam go at dawn, take a pick and shovel, and bury them decently. 1 only wish I could be of some use, my poor boy.” ‘‘T will go with you, my son, and help you all I can, while I will take my English Book of Prayer and read over them the burial service.” ‘That is right, wife, and you can find a se- cluded burial-place, where no one will find the graves, and Ned can simply say that he found their boat adrift, which will be the truth. “Then, Ned, I will tell you what you will have to do.” ** Yes, father.” “Go to England.” “Oh, father!” ‘* Husband!” ‘*Tt will be better than yet ‘* He can go to England, take the jewelry, and tell all that happened, and that the dying man gave to him the gold. ** We can get aling, wife, for we can live on some of Ned’s money, and I am getting able now to hobble about, and can fish and help you some, ‘* Now let us look over the contents of the et- bag.” ere were papers therein of an important character. Some clothing marked with a crest, a few trinkets, the jewelry worn by the dead man and his wife, a thousand pounds tn gold; some bank- notes, and half a hundred dollars in silver. It was a fortune in those cays, and the poor boy was as happy at his treasure as could be. **'You will have to count this, Ned, and see just what you received, so as be able to tell those to whom you go to tell your story.” ‘*But, father, when sbull I go?” asked Ned, delighted at the ee of a sea voyage. ‘* My old friend Captain Samuels sails on the clipper ship Dreadnaught in about a week, and goes to London, so you had better oO with him, and he will take good care of you. **T shall work my way across, sir, for it will give me a good training on a large vessel, sir,” said the plucky boy. ‘Well, Samuels will let you do so, Iam sure.” ** And I shall come back in a brig, sir, so as to learn the different kinds of vessels, as you said, father, you would trust me to hanale a schooner and a sloop now.” ** Indeed, I would, my boy, and your voyage will help you greatly; but now you must go to: bed, for you will be up bright and early in the morning,” So Ned retired to his little room, and was soon fast asleep; but he was up bright and early, and, accompanied by his mother, set sail for the little cove where he had left the life-boat with its dead crew. He found all as he had left it, and a secluded spot was found up a picturesque glen, back a few rods from the sea, and Ned dug a double grave, Into it the unfortunate couple were placed, and above them Mrs. Everard read the service for the dead, after which the boy filled in the grave, spreading over it a quantity of fine straw, and marking the spot simply by a broken oar-blade. Then they returned home, towing the life- boat, and the next day Ned went up to the town to engage a_ berth Gpon the packet schooner running to Boston, whence he was to take the Dreadnaught, clipper ship, for London. Ned also wished to make a few purchases for himself, of a new outfit and some things for his mother, at the same time asking a boy friend of his to run down each week to see his parents during his absence, and to take bis place as: much as possible during his stay away: Bright-hearted was Ned when he entered the little village, having run there in his skiff, but it was with a,heavy heart, several bours after, that he left it upon bis return home, and wh the change in his spirits the next chapter will disclose. ca —_————_——— CHAPTER VII. NEPTUNE NED. THERE was, in the village to which Ned Ever- ard had gone, a perperate character by the name of Carl Brewer, but more geuerally known as Neptune, on account of his long gray beard and hair. Z The man was & desperado of the worst type and though white-haired and bearded, was not, over forty. Possessing & large, powerful frame, and an ugly temper, he was feared by all as one to shun a difficulty with, and the villagers were glad when he went away on a voyage, which he did