Beadle's Dime Library No. 103 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

| | 1 | ~ me es ee ee ee Merle, The Mutineer. 3 oO ** Merle, the life we lead may again bring us face to face with Captain Aiur Grenville, and under any, and all cireumstances, do your utmost to protect his life—ay, if you strike dead the man who raises hand against him. “Once, in the long ago, we were friends, Arthur Grenville an Be but he believes me dead, and I am dead to those who once knew me; ay, dead to honor, too, for I am an outlaw, a price upon my head, and the name I bear stain- ed with crime; but once I was far different, and could hold my head up among my peers, and— bah! why will I speak of the past? ‘‘ Circumstances, over which I held no con- trol made me what I am, and now Iam what I am “ To-night Iseem strangely moody, and there is a pressure here,” and he laid his hand upon his heart. For a moment he stood thus, and then said, with deep feeling: ‘** Merle, if aught befalls me—if I should die, I leave you in command of this vessel; yes, and far more, for I possess untold wealth, hidden far from here in anisland— Ha! what means this disturbance?” and the chief turned angrily toward the cabin companionway, now crowded by a dozen forms. “Captain, we have come to ask a favor of you, sir;” said one of the crew, stepping in ad- vance of his comrades. ‘Return to the deck, lads, for your presence here may excite Lieutenant Merle; I will hear what you have to say on to-morrow,” said the chief, calmly. ; ‘“There isno time like the present, Captain Freelance, and it isof the boy we would speak,” doggedly said the ringleader. ‘*Ah! you come toask him to pardon your mutinous conduct?’ ‘‘Not a bit of it, sir; we come.to carry out our intention of stringing him up to the yard- arm.” ‘* Curses and Furies! do you dare beard me in my cabin?” and the chief turned with blazing eyes upon the intruders, who now half-filled the cabin, while the youth rose to a sitting position and fearlessly gazed upon his enemies. ‘“We havecome for a plain talk, captain, and now that we’ve set sail, we might as well have it out if it leads us upon breakers.” ** And upon breakers it will lead you; begone!” and Captain Freelance pointed sternly toward the deck. But not a man moved, though their faces paled; they felt that the die was cast and that a struggle must come, and all eyes turned upon their ringleader, a young man who had evident- ly seen better days in the past, but having cast his lot with outla , was now reckless to des- peration. Perhaps he felt that the youth held a place that should have been his. ‘*Captain, we wish no quarrel with you, sir.” ‘** Then leave this cabin at once.” ** Not until we gain our object, sir, and we are determined to do that, for you have made that unknown lad an officer over us who have served you for years.” *“Ay, and should harm befall me he shall command this schooner.” ‘* Never!” burst from every mutineer. ‘“Ha! Iam then to be ruled by my men, it would seem?” and the chief flashed his eyes over the stern faces before him. ‘*No, captain, we will obey you in all but one thing; you have led us in many a desperate en- counter, and we know you, while you have gained for us gold; but we did object to your placing over us as an officer that boy, and—” ‘Captain Freelance, let me speak a word to these rebellious hounds,” and the youth, with an effort arose to his feet. ‘*’You made me an officer, sir, under you—a position I never sought, or desired, for—pardon me, sir—I cared not to sail beneath an outlawed flag; but you saved my life, and in return I have endeavored to serve you until I could— again pardon me—find honorable service. “ To-night I crossed these men in their thirst for blood, and for it they sought my life, and again you saved me, ‘Now, as I am the bone of contention, let road leave the schooner at the nearest port, an — ‘No, Merle, I will not consent to it, for I have a service that you shall enter upon: and as for these fellows, they shall not dictate to me, as long as I have a good right arm to crush any one who opposes me.” ** Captain Freelance, this ent is all use- less. e have come for the youth, and have him we will, if we take him over your dead ** By the God above! that speech rings well,” and the chief bounded forward and felled the speaker to the floor with one blow of his clenched hand, for he was unarmed: A yell of fury broke from the crew, and in an instant they hurled thémselves upon their lead- er, while a shot resounded through the cabin, like the roar of a heavy gun. It was fired by the youth, and the bullet found the heart of the one at whom it was aimed. But it checked not the maddened mutineers, and rushing forward a dozen seized the object of their hatred, and he, too, was borne bodily to the floor, though struggling bravely. ‘* The chief is dead!” The cry came from the lips of the ringleader, as he arose to his feet, a drawn knife in bis hand, the blade to the hilt crimsoned. A hush fell upon all present; the bold deed had struck them dumb, and their eyes turned upon the face of their leader; it was white and motionless, and they knew that he was dead. Instantly a change of feeling fell upon all— they had not intended to kill him, only to bind him until their revenge against the youth was satiated. ** And you killed him?’ cried a dozen voices 2 upon the murderer. ** Yes. He saw not the danger in the avowal of his deed; his ambition made him blind and fool- hardy, and he shouted with vicious triumph: ‘‘Ay! See, here is his mark on my forehead, and he bears mine in his heart. Now hang that boy to the yard-arm; my shipmates on deck have already hurled Reedwell into the sea, and J am your chief.” Like frenzied wolves, those whom he had trusted, threw themselves upon him; the cabin lamp was knocked from its chains and fell with a crash, and in total darkness the mad scuffle went on, But only for a moment, and then the wild crew rushed on deck, d ing in their midst the youth whom now they felt no power could save, and leaving behind them three dead bodies —their chief, their ringleader in the mutiny and the man who had fallen before the shot of Merle. Once on deck, and the scene was scarcely less wild than that which had been enacted in the cabin, for a few of the crew, who had been true to their ringleader, had just thrown their offi- cer, Reedwell, into the sea, but not until he had slain two of their number. Out upon the wide waste of dashing waters he had been left to his doom, and under other hands the beautiful schooner was held on her course, bounding, reeling and rushing through the chaotic seas that swept over its decks, and, as if crouching and flying from the inky storm- clouds that hung aboveit, and from which burst angry roars of thunder. ne glance around him, and the youth felt that his doom was sealed, for he saw that the crew held the deck, and he set his teeth and nerved his heart to face death fearlessly. “Swing him up, lads! It’s a dirty business and must soon be over,” cried a voice above the howlings of his comrades, and a rope was again thrown around the bruised neck, and a dozen hands were ready to hang like a dog the brave boy who stood in their midst, and from whose white lips came no cry for mercy. ‘Now, lads! all together!” ordered the self- selected leader, and the rope tightened, and the youth swung clear of the deck. But, not to die, for, from the black cloud hov- ering above the flying schooner, descended a livid lance of flame, upon the needle-like point of the mainmast, shivering it into a thousand atoms, and, dividing into arrows of fire, the lurid lightnin rushed to the deck, and ee ier the hearts of those who held the youth in mid- air, striking them down, with others of the mad- dened crew. One wild yell of horror, and the fright-crazed crew who yet lived fled in terror to the cabin to shut out the terrific scene, for they felt that Heaven had forbidden the murder their crime- stained hands would have perpetrated. CPAPTER III. DRIFTING TO DOOM. ** BOATS ahoy !” The cry arose from the mast-head of the frig- ate, and startled all who heard it, for what boats could be out upon those dark waters, over which the storm must burst ere many seconds. “What! can Grenville have left the men to return in the boats, in the face of this threaten- ing gale?” cried a distinguished-looking officer, whose gray hair looked like silver threads, as the binnacle light fell upon it. “Tt was rash, sir, and not like Captain Gren- ville, commodore,” replied a young officer in the uniform of a senior lieutenant. ‘Hark! they hail! What says he, Sebastian?” and as Commodore Brainard spoke, there came across the waters in clear tones: ‘** Ahoy the ae ! Bring to yonder schooner!” ‘Tt is Grenville’s voice! The schooner has es- caped him then, and cleverly eluded us! ck! Mr. Sebastian, let the frigate wear round and give chase,” cried the commodore, excitedly. ui And the boats, sir? See, the storm is break- i True; ahoy, Grenville! Pull for your lives or you will be swamped! Lay her to, helmsman! are, if you would save your shipmates’ lives!” and the voice of the old commodore rung out, as it had not done in many long years. All was now intense excitement on board the frigate, which at once obeyed her helm and swept around with its head to meet the gale, while two hundred men sprung to the gangways to aid their comrades on board, for the boats were now but a few lengths away. ’ ** Pull hard, lads!. Bravo!” and the voice of Commodore Brainard was drowned in the wild cheer that broke from the crew, as the boats struck the side of the frigate. ‘Lightly, men! There are badly wounded here for you to handle!” cried a clear voice which all recognized as that of the captain of the frigate, Arthur Grenville. ‘“* Ay, ay, sir; but the sea will be less gentle than we are, if we don’t get them on board,” answered an old sailor, and the wounded and dead in the boat were quickly passed over the side; their more fortunate unwounded comrades followed, and the boats were hauled up een as the gale broke in fury cee the devoted ship. For a few moments the stern orders of the officers were heard, the snapping of ropes, ae of spars, wash of the waves and howl- ing of the winds, and then the frigate rushed away before the gale. : Then Commodore Brainard turned to Arthur Grenville, and shouted: **’You lost the schooner then?” . ** Yes, commodore; I was beaten off, with the loss of half my men, though the lads fought like devils. The schooner had double as many as I believed were on board.” ‘* Too bad; and he hailed me as he went by, and I believed it to be you! That Captain Free- lance is protected by Satan.” “It would seem so, sir; but we must soon overhaul the schooner in this storm, as the sea is too wild for him to run, long.” ‘He on! Ra to. Have double look-outs placed, Captain Grenville, and then come into the cabin, for I would learn of your attack ; but you are white as a sheet, and— ‘““T am wounded, sir; yet only slightly, I think, I will leave Mr. Se ian on deck,” and Captain Grenville followed the commodore into the cabin, where, after having his wounds, which were not serious, attended to by the sur- geon, he make known to his commander the re- sult of his desperate combat on beard the schooner, and of the conduct of the youth who had saved his life. ‘* He was a brave Jad and shall not be forgot- ten, when the schooner falls into our hands, for take it we must,” said Commodore Brainard, a ¥ sir; Freelance must not be allowed to escape this time; but I beg, Commodore Brain- ard, that you will pardon the youth, in return for his service to me. He was a ‘handsome, fearless fellow, and I fear got into trouble after we were beaten off.” ‘It shall be as you wish, Grenville; but you did not see the chief?” ‘‘No, sir; I am confident he was not on board, and that the old fisherman told us the truth, when he said Captain Freelance had run into the cove, to gain information from one of his _— who dwells on the coast.” ‘“‘ Doubtless; now do you feel able to go on deck?” “Yes, sir; my wounds trouble me little— What is it, sir?’ and Captain Grenville turned to a midshipman who just then entered. “The gale is increasing, sir, and Mr. Sebas- tian bade me report that a vessel was struck by lightning two leagues to leeward, sir.” th officers at once hurried on deck, to dis- cover that the storm had increased to a hurri- cane, and that the frigate was driving furiously ceecrouna ’ thier “aut” Wea! sake ata roun em was rkness, on when, ever and anon, a flame of light would dart seaward from some black cloud, which seemed almost trailing its skirts in the wild wa- te rs. It certainly was a fearful night, and the crew stood at their posts white and expectant, for far away over the raging waves, they had just beheld a livid flash descend upon some unfortu- nate vessel, which they felt was doomed. a not their noble ship also meet the same fate Such was the dread in every heart, and brave men trembled as the thunders shook the deep, and the lightnings played around them, lookin like the fiery swords of some huge demons 0 the clouds engaged in desperate and jaruee combat, while the crashing of heaven’s artil- lery sounded like the hoarse voices of the giant combatants. ‘* Did ya see the vessel, Sebastian?” shouted Captain renville in the ear of the lieutenant. “For an instant only, sir. ‘‘ Was it the schooner?’ followed the eager question. “T could not tell, sir, the flash was so blind- ing; we are heading directly toward it.” ‘Then we shall soon know, if the craft has not gone down.” 1 eyes were now strained over the waters ahead, and thus many minutes away, until a blinding glare caused every eye to close involuntarily, so vivid was the hight upon sea and sky. “Wreck ho!” It was Arthur Grenville’s voice that rung out clear, and then followed in startling tones: “Port! port your helm! hard a-port! Weare driving over him!” The helmsmen threw their weight upon the wheel; the obedient vessel obeyed her helm, 0)(0)(6) “comic S) oes