Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 982: "The Girl Storm-Pilot" — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

& ~~ The Girl Storm-Pilat The Death-Bell of the Reefs. A Romance of Sea, Coast, and Iniquitous Imposture. ~eoOo~ BY G, WALDO BROWNE, CHAPTER I, A STRANGE MEETING, “ Wrtp-poor-will! Whip-poor-will / POOR WILL!” Above the sullen thunder of the waves, beating the rock-bound shore, rung clear and shrill the cryof the night- bird. he scene, from which the day was fast end- ing in a night of murky gloom, was wild and dismal, On the one hand a broken, desolate range of land, dotted here and there by patches of green in a groundwork of dark-brown; on the other an expanse of angry, surf-lashed sea, from whose depths dark-gray cliffs reared their forbidding heads; above, a sky of inky blackness oversbad- owing sea and land. ' Apparently unconscious of the deepening gloom and of the rising storm, two men stood upon the narrow beach, facing each other like two duelists. In truth, one of them held in his hands a pair of pistols—held them by the barrels while he thrust the butts into the other’s face. As the notes of the whippowil breke upon the seen, he exclaimed: ‘‘There is the cry of the bird again. Why don’t you take one of the weapons, Wilfred Morland? Weare losing valuable time!” He was dark-featured, yet handsome, this man who spoke so fiercely, but a latent fire gleamed in his cold, gray eyes. Of medium height, fine physique, polished manners and respectable dress, the man, Acton Marble, could not have - been more than twenty-five. His companion may have been a yedr or two older. He was taller, broader shouldered, with blue eyes, auburn hair and tawny mustache. As the other spoke he started back. ‘¢ No—no, Mr. Marble; I cannot doit. I have no quarrel with you—” ‘* Bab! take one of them!” the other hissed, W HIP- “or prove yourself a coward, Here, quick, so that we shall be ready to fire at the next cry of the bird.” ‘‘ But, why do you force this upon me?” asked Morland, as he mechanically took one of the pistols and allowed it to hang by his side. *‘ You sbould scorn to ask that question, Wil- fred Morland, when you know how you have crossed my path, ‘‘ Bsfore you came my way was clear, but with your wiles and lying stories you have thwarted my dearest wishes and made of mea mortai foe, ‘‘ Both of us cannot live. One must die! I have loaded one of these weapons; the other is empty. You havetaken your choice of them, and itis as fair for youasforme, Be ready to fire at the next cry of the bird and take your chance—* | The notes of the whippowil again rung upon the evening air. Acton Marblo stamped his foot with rage. ‘* Coward!” he cried, *‘ were you as brave to meet the wrath of men as you are to court the smiles of women, this scene had been over ere this. for the last time dare you meet me likea man, Wilfred Morland?” The words seemed to have little effect upon the other, for he smiled. ‘Fat I see the driftcf your anger now,” he\ exclaimed, ‘‘My stay at Cliffwood has brought this about. You cannot bear to see me in the comipaay of Lena Riverton,” ‘You lie!” cried Marble, hotly, ‘* Dastard, take that!” and he struck Morland sharply with the flat of his hand. Wilfred staggered back, to quickly recover himself, though the marks of the other’s hand still crimsoned his cheek, ‘*‘ Now, dare you meet me?” demanded Marble, hoarsely. ‘* Yes, ruffian!” replied the aroused Morland. ‘* Select your ground.” A grim smile ayes u the sinister coun- tenance of Marble, as they measured off ten paces and wheeled to face each other, ‘* Fire at the next cry of the b with a ring of triumph in his tone, he cried, ee The Girl Storm-Pilot. It was a trying moment, but an unnatural! calmness seemed to rest upon the duelists, while they listened and waited with bated breath for the cry that was to si. n the doom of one, Slowly the moments dragged, while only the Ngee boom of the breakers broke the si- ence, The sky grew momentarily blacker; the sea more sullen and angry; but the duelists waited in vain for the fatal warning. Asif chained to the spot they stood, neither daring to move. Had the whippowil forgot its song? Then, sounding above the tumult of the waves with startling distinctness, was borne to their ears the report of a gun. They started with surprise, and Morland whose face was turned in that direction, glanced wildly over the white-capped billows that rose and fejl with resistless fury. Again the boom of the distant signal-call for help blended with the thunder of the ele- ments, ‘‘Itis a ship in distress!” gasped Wilfred, ‘‘ Curse the ship!” muttered Marble, ‘‘ You had better look to yourown welfare, That bird won’t be forever silent.” ‘*Good heavens! look there!” cried Morland, forgetting for the time his precarious situation, and pointing excitealy toward the sea. The exclamation was so sudden and unex- pected that Marble, too, forgot everything else and gazed in the direction pointed out. As far out upon the waves as could be seen in the gloom, tossed on the stormy waters as light- ly as the foam that capped the breakers, rode, in the very teeth of the rising tempest, a boat! lt contained one occupant—a snow-white figure! Boom—boom—boom! rung out the signal-gun over the storm-driven seas. The boat with its solitary— ‘* Whip poor—” Qaick as a flash the duelists turned to mect each other, The last note of the wild-bird was drowned by the report of a pistol. With alow cry Wilfred Morland pressed his hand to hisside, and, staggering to and fro, fell heavily upon the beach, The hammer of his own pistol had descended with a dull click, harmless, : A cruel smile played upon Acton Marble’s ace, ‘*T will drag the body down by those rocks where the tide will reach it,” he said, half-aloud, This he did, and had barely accomplished his heartless scheme, when the sound of footsteps startled him. Turning with alarm he saw a man approach- ing: already within hailing distance. e seemed very feeble, and as he moved with tottering steps, he leaned heavily upon a staff. Marble watched him uneasily; and, anxious to meet him as far from the place where lay the body of his victim as possible, he advanced to- ward the stranger with rapid strides. ‘** Hello, old man!” he saluted; ‘‘ this is hardly a fitting night for such as you to be abroad, See! the storm is rising fast,’ ‘*I’m used to storms,” murmured the other. ** But, did you see that boat upon the sea? Who can it be out on such a night?” ‘Only a woman, old man!” ‘*A woman?” gasped the other. ‘‘ Then my old aye did not deceiveme, A woman? God save her!” ‘Don’t start so, my aged friend, ° It was no living—or at least, mortal woman, They call her the Spirit of the Surf, She always ap- pears before a storm. **Look! she has come in sight again! She seems to be heading for this spot on the shore, In » minute she will tack in another course.” ‘Ay, ay, sir; and you say she is a spir— Hark! Thereis that gun again! Some ship is in peril, My God, how it makes me sbudder!” and he shook like an aspen. ‘‘ Have boats gone out to her rescue?” ‘Boats in the face of such a storm?” cried Marble, in evident surprise. ‘‘ Why, man, you must be crazy. But, pardon me; 1 see you are a stranger in these parts.” ** Ay, ay, sir; I am a stranger here, though the best years of my life were passed on this coast,” They were standing side by side now, gazing out over the broken expanse of a water. Marble turned, hoping to get a view of his countenance, but the lower features were com- letely hidden by a bushy beard, while the cape his gray coat was so pulled about his head that only a pair of steely gray yh were visible, His tone betrayed his disappointment, ‘** 1—I do not believe I ever saw you before,” ‘¢ We forget many whom we meet,” answered the old man, evasively. ‘‘ Besides, I have been away these twenty years.” ‘‘Ah, no wonder, then, Your name—what may I call you?” ‘*My name has changed many times in my life. To-dayIl am Walf Ranger. Ugh! this raw air pierces to my marrow. I must seek shelter,” ‘¢ will go with you,” decided Marble quickly, anxious not to lose sight of the old intruder just yet. It would not do for the man to discover the body of Morland, which lay behind the rocks, mt out of sight, much to his murderer’s re- ief, ‘* We shall have to part company if you walk like that,” declared Ranger, when they had gone a short distance, **‘ You forget my infirm- ities.” ‘*Pardon me, I was thinking of other mat- ters, and so walked faster than L intended. But, see! we have no time to lose if we would escape the storm, I feel the rain upon my hand now,” *t Ay, ay, sir; but Iam doing my best. What can have become of that boatman?” ‘* Woman, you mean,” | ‘* True; I had forgotten. Ha! that poor skip keeps up its firing. God pity— ’Pon my life, it must be the Sea Jewel! She was due to day.” Acton Marble started baci. **No, no,” be hastened to say. **The Jewel is not due until to-morrow. My brother comes on her—comes bome after being abroad ten ears.” *‘ For your sake, then, I hope it is not the Sea Jewel in such sore distress. But, hark! what sound is that?” CHAPTER II, THE BELL OF WOLAND’S WRECK, Clang—clang—CLANG! Clearly the tone of the massive bell rung out on the storm-laden air, It was closely followed bya distant peal of thunder, telling that the tempest had ‘begun its war. Then, for the last time, its hoarse sound near- ly drowned by the roar of the breakers, was Forne to their ears from the ill-fated ship the boom of the signal-gun! Clang—clang—CLANG! again pealed forth the deep-sounding bell, ‘“‘The warning from the good St. Julian!” exclaimed the old man, ‘' Thank Heaven, the ship will be guided safely to harbor!” ‘* Don’t be too sure of that, my friend!” cried Marble, an exultant ring in his tone. ‘* The bell of St. Julian has been silent this many ears, Your warning comes from Woland’s reck, Mind you not that the sound is too far down tho coast for St. Julian? Hark! it comes from the Ribs of Death!” His companion groaned, ‘©Woland’s Wreck—the Ribs of Death!” he repeated, buskily. ‘‘Ob, my boy! my—” A lurid flash of lightning now blinded their eyes, and the quick peal of thunder drowned the old man’s quaking tone, The glare of the elements lit with fearful brilliancy for a moment the stormy scene, to ave it in a gloom all the deeper for the unusual ght. Acton Marble had looked in yain for the boat with its slight occupant, Then again the brazen throat of the bell gent forth its resonant warning, Walf Ranger caught his companion by the arm, and his glittering eyes were fixed upon the other’s white face, *‘ That bell!” he exclaimed, hoarsely. ‘* What bodes it to yonder ship?” ‘** Nothing of good,” replied the quickly. ‘ But come; let’s seek shel storm ere ‘we are drenched to—” ‘‘ And do nothing for that poor ship?” ‘* We can do nothing! It is preposterous to think of it,” and Marble attempted to lead him away, “Rut we can at least stay the foul fiend’s hand that rings that bell! Ha! there it is nl!’ ‘‘ Hold. old friend!” said the other, in alarm as the old man abru tly left him, “ Let me tell you that it is the foul fiend’s hand in reality which rings that bell. No mortal being, I dare eos nearer than you or I!” alf Ranger shivered—not from the storm; he was obliviousof that, buta power more potent convulsed his being. ‘‘ You jest, when human lives are at stake, You—" _ No jest! ‘Have I not a brother on yonder oung man, r from the 200 Tee , co Ry aft Vy . ; : ey Oe em eee Cl ye te rere ———— we = am eee amend ee ee . ° - .