Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 11 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

- en ey ee ED ewe © + <— ee ee ee —— eo. f : t ’ ' oe oor 4 Pe] en ee ee gee ee —— « - - —s ~- - — SU. eee EE. Sa r ? 26 a ‘No, I'll keep it in memory of his daughter.” Here Gascoigne fell into a melancholy reverie, and — Jack thought of Agnes, In two days they arrived at Mahon, and found _the | Aurora already there, in the command of Captain Wil- son. Mr. Hicks had persuaded Captain Hogg to fur- nish him with clothes, Jack having taken off the injunction as soon as he had quitted the admiral. Mr. cks was aware, that if the admiral would not listen to his complaint, it was no use speaking to a captain; so he remained on board a pensioner “ee Captain Hogg, and after our midshipmen quitted the transport they became very good friends. Mr. Hicks consented to the match and Captain Hogg was made happy. As for oon Azar, she had wandered about until she was tired, in Miss Hicks’ dress, and at last returned broken- hearted to her father’s, and was admitted by Abd el | Faza himself; he imagined it was Miss Hicks, and was in transports—he discovered it was his daughter, | and he was in a fury. The next day she went to the | zenana of Osman Ali. When Jack reported himself he did not tell the his- | tory of the elopements, that he might not hurt the. reclings of Gascoigne. ap Wilson was satisfied | with the manner in which he had executed his orders, | and asked him, ‘“‘ whether he preferred staying in the | Harpy, or following him into the Aurora.” | Jack hesitated. ee “Speak frankly, Mr. Easy; if you prefer Captain | Sawbridge to me, I shall not be affronted.” ‘No, sir,” replied Easy, “I do not prefer Captain | Sawbridge to P het you have both been equally kind to me, but I prefer you. But the fact is, sir, that I do not | much like to part with Gascoigne, or—”’ ‘Or who?” said the captain, smiling. ‘““With Mesty, sir; you may think me ve but I should not be alive at this moment if i been for him.”’ ‘**T do not consider gratitude to be foolish, Mr. enw gf | replied Captain Wilson. ‘Mr. Gascoigne I intend to take with me, if he chooses to come, as I have a great respect for his father, and no fault to_find with him, that penny peas but as for Mesty—why he | is a good man; and as you have behaved yourself, per- haps I may think of it.” e next day Mesty was included among the boat's | erew taken with him by Captain Wilson, according to | the ulations of the service, and appointed to the | same situation under the master-at-arms of the Au- rora. Gascoigne and our hero were also discharged into the frigate. As our hero never has shown any remarkable predi- | lection for duty, the reader will not be surprised at his requesting from Captain Wilson a few days on shore, revious to his going on board of the Aurora, Captain Vilson allowed the same license to Gascoigne, as they had both been cooped up for some time on board of a | transport, Our hero took up his f pon at the only | respectable hotel in the town, and whenever he could | meet an officer of the Aurora, he very politely begged | the pleasure of his company to dinner, Jack’s reputa- | tion had gone before him, and the midshipmen drank his wine and swore he was a trump. Not that Jack | was to be deceived, but, upon the principles of equal- foolish, had not | tN he argued that it was the duty of those who could cffo rd dinners to give them to those who could not. This was a sad error on Jack’s part; but he had not et learnt the value of money; he was such a fool as o think that the only real use of it was to make other people happy. It must, however, be offered in his ex- | tenuation that he was a midshipman and a philosopher, and not yet cighteen. | At Jack had remained so long on shore, keeping open house, and the first lieutenant of the Aurora found the officers so much more anxious for leave now that they were at little or no expense, that he sent him a very polite message, requesting the pleasure of | his company on board that evening. Jack returned an equally cep answer, informing the first lieutenant that not being aware that he wished to see him, he had egw to accompany some friends to a masquerade | hat night, but that he would not fail to pay his re- spects to him the next day. The first lieutenant ad- mitted the excuse, and our hero, after having enter- tained half a dozen of the Auroras, for the Harpy had | sailed two days before, dressed himself for the mas- querade, which was held in a church about two miles and a half from Mahon. Jack had selected the costume of the devil, as being | the most appropriate, and mounting a jackass, he rode_ down in his dress to the masquerade. ‘But, as Jack was | ha going in, he perceived a yellow carriage, with two. ootmen in gaudy liveries, draw up, and with his usual | Lk pee when the footman opened the door, offered | is arm to hand out a fat old dowager covered with diamonds; the lady looked up, and perceiving Jack | covered with hair, with his trident and his horns, and long tail, gave a loud scream, and would have fallen | it not been for Captain Wilson, who, in his full orm, was coming in, and caught her in his arms: while the old lady thanked him, and Captain Wilson | bowed, Jack hastily retreated. “1 shall make no con- quests to-night,” thought he; so he entered the church, and joined the crowd; but it was so dense that it was y ible to move, and our hero soon got tired of | flourishing his trident, and sticking it into people, who | wondered what the devil he meant. “This is stupid work,” thought Jack; “I may have more fun outside:” so Jack put on his cloak, left the | masquerade, and went out in search of adventures. He | walked out into the open country, about half a mile, | until he came to a splendid house, standing in a garden | of o e-trees, which he determined to reconnoiter, | He observed that a window was open and lights were | in the room; and he climbed up to the window, and | vey opened the white curtain and looked in, Ona bed an elderly person, evidently dying, and by the side | of the bed were three priests, one of whom held the | crucifix in his hand, another the censer, and a third was | sitting at a table with a oper, Ten and ink. As Jack | understood Spanish, he listened, and heard one of the | priests say: ‘Your sins have been enormous, my son, and I can- not give you extreme unction or absolution unless you | make some amends.”’ rogues from disinheriting a family. 9 with the full moon ‘reins, and who both lay before him in a swoon. / and at. sm “What are your children compared to your salvation? | —reply not: either consent, or not only do I refuse you | the consolation of the dying, but I excommunicate—” “*Mercy, holy father—mercy!”’ said the old man, in a dying voice. ‘““There is no mercy; you are damned for ever-and ever, Amen. Now hear: excommunicabo te—”’ ‘“ Stop—stop—have you the paper ready ?”’ ‘Tis here, all ready, by which you revoke all former wills, and endow the holy church with your Property. We will read it, for God forbid that it should be said that the holy church received an involuntary gift.” ‘*T will sign it,” ronnes the dying man, “but my sight fails me; be quick, absolve me.’ And the paper was signed, with difficulty, as the priests supported the dying man. ‘And now—absolve me,” ‘*T do absolve thee,”’ replied the priest, who then went through the ceremony, “Now this is a confounded rascally business,” said Jack to himself; who then dropped his cloak, jumped upon the window-sill, opened wide the window curtains Nett hands, and uttered a yelling kind of * ha! ha! 1a! ha!” The priests turned round, saw the demon, as they imagined—dropped the paper on the table, and threw themselves with their faces on the floor. ‘* Exorciso te,’’ stammered one. ‘* Ha! ha! ha! ha!’ repeated Jack, entering the room, and taking up the paper, which he burnt by the flame of the candle. Our hero looked at the old man on the bed; his jaw had faHlen, his eyes were turned. He was dead. Jack then gave one more ‘ha! ha! ha! ha!’ to keep the priests in their places, blew out the candles, made a spring out of the window, caught up his cloak, and disappeared as fast as his legs could carry him. Jack run until he was out of breath, and then he stop- ped, and sat down by the side of the road. It was broad moonlight, and Jack knew not where he was: “but Minorca has not many high roads,” thought Jack, “ and I shall find my way home. Now, let me see—I have done some good this evening. I have prevented those wonder who they are: they ought to be infinitely obliged to me, But if the priests find me out, what shall Ido? Inever dare come on shore again—they’d have me inthe In- quisition. I wonder where I em,” said Jack; “I will get on that hill, and see if I can take a departure.”’ The hill was formed by the road being cut perpen- dicularly almost through it, and was perhaps some twelve or fourteen feet high. Jack ascended it, and looked about him. ‘There is the sea, at all events, with the full moon silvering the waves,” said Jack, turning from the road, ‘“‘and hereis the road; then that must be the way to Port Mahon. But what comes here!—it’s a carriage. Why, it’s the yellow carriage of that old lady with her diamonds, and her two splashy footmen!’” Jack was watching it as it passed the road under him, when of a sudden he per- ceived about a dozen men rush out, and seize the horses’ heads—a discharge of firearms, the coachman dropped off his box, and the two footmen dropped from behind. The robbers then opened the door, and were hauling out the fat old lady covered with dia- monds. Jack thought a second—it occurred to him, that although he could not cope with so many, he might frighten them as he had frightened one set of robbers already that night. The old lady had just been tumbled out of the carriage door, like a large bundle of clothes tied up for the wash, when Jack, throwing off his cloak, and advancing to the edge of the preci- hind him, throwing cut s figure in strong relief, raised his trident, and yelled a most rs looked up, were raising their knive just as the The rob unearthly “ha, ha, ha, ha!” and forgetting the masquerade, for there is a double tremor in guilt, screamed with fear; most of them ran away, and dropped after a hundred yards; the others remained paralyzed and insensible. Jack descended the hill, went to the assistance of the old lady, who had swooned, and had to put her into the carriage; but although our hero was very strong, this was a work of no small difficulty. After one or two attempts, he lowered down the steps and contrived to bump her on the first, from the first he purchased her on the second, and from the second he at last seated her at the door of the carriage. Jack had no time to be over-polite. He then threw her back into the bottom of the carriage, ‘her heels went up to the top, Jack shoved in her petti- coats as fastas he could, for decency, and then shutting the door, seized the reins, and jumped upon the box. “T don’t know the way,” thought Jack, “but we must needs go when the devil drives;”’ so sticking his trident into the horses, they set off at a rattling ‘ey passing over the bodies of the two robbers, who had held the As soon as he had brought the horses into a trot, he slack- ened the reins for, as Jack aay argued, they will be certain to go home, if I let them have their own way. The horses, before they arrived at the town, turned o at a large country house, That he might not frighten the people, Jack had put on his cl and taken off his mask and head-piece, which he had laid beside him on the box. At the sound of the carriage- wheels the servants came out, when Jack, in few words, to'd them what had happened. Some of the servants ranin, anda young lady made her Appearenpe while the others were helping the old | out of the car- riage, who had recovered her senses, but had been so much frightened that she had remained in the posture in which Jack had put her. As soon as she was out, Jack descended from the coach-box and entered the house. He stated to the young lady what had taken oe and how oppor- tunely he had frightened away the robbers, just as they were about to murder her relation; and also suggested the propriety of sending after the servants who had fallen in the attack; which was immediately done by a strong and well-armed party collected for the occasion. Jack, having made his speech, made a very polite bow and k his leave, stating that he was an English offi- cer, belonging to a frigate in the harbor. e knew his way back, and in half an hour was again at the inn, and found his comrades. Jack though ble to keep his own secret, and therefore merely said, that he had taken a long walk in the country; and soon ‘“‘T have,”’ answered the moribund, “left money for , afterward went to bed. ten thousand masses to be said for my soul.” ‘‘FWive hundred thousand masses are not sufficient: how have you gained your enormous wealth? by usury and rob the £5” “T have left a Saoweaitl — bots distributed uneral.’ among the poor on the day of m “7 Me y bing—you must leave “One thousand dollars is no your to holy church, “And my I" replied the dying man, faintly our hero, who was always a,man up his portmanteau, and paid his The next mornin of his word, k it advisa- | bles Pea MR --— $$ =_———_— EL ' ae _ cesses ll Tl RRL AA | a . . area LO —— | |? SF Oe > — er ee + ee wee ~~ —— oe ee oe Jack looked at his interrogator, and thought of the riests and the Inquisition. ‘No, no,’’ thought he, ‘that won’t do; a name I must give, but it shall be one that you dare not meddle with. A midshipman you might get hold of, but it’s more than the whole island dare to touch a post-captain of one of his Majesty's frigates."’ So Jack took the paper and wrote Captain Henry Wilson, of his Majesty’s ship Aurora. Tae pein man made a prim bow, folded up the paper, and left the room. Jack threw the waiter half a doubloon, lighted his cigar and went on board. CHAPTER XXVI. IN WHICH THE OLD PROVERB IS ILLUSTRATED “THAT YOU MUST NOT COUNT YOUR CHICKENS BEFORE THEY ARE HATCHED,”’ THE first lieutenant of the Aurora was a very good officer in many r ts, but as a midshi Meng had contracted the habit of putting his hands in his pock- ets, and could never keep them out, even when the ship was ina gale of wind; and hands are of some use in a heavy lurch. He had more than once received serious injury from falling on these occasions, but habit was too powerful; and, although he had once broken his leg by falling down the hatchway, and had more. over a large scar on his forehead, received from bein thrown to leeward against one of the guns, he sti continued the practice; indeed, it was said that once when it was necessary for him to go aloft, he had actu- ally taken the two first rounds of Jaceb’s ladder with. out withdrawing them, until, losing his balance, he dis: covered that it was not quite so easy to go aloft with his hands in his pockets. In fact, there was. no getting u his hands, even when all hands were Surnedl up He had another peculiarity, which was, that he had taken a peculiar fancy to a quack medicine, called Enouy’s Universal Medicine for all Mankind; and Mr. Pottyfar was convinced in his own mind that the label was no libel, except from the eae of its truth. In his opinion, it cured everything, and he spent one of hi quarterly bills every year in bottles of this stuff; which he not only took himself every time he was unwell, but occasionally when quite well, to prevent his falling sick. He recommended it to everybody in the ship, and nothing pleased him so much as to give a dose of it to every one who could be persuaded to take it. The officera laughed at him, but it was generally behind his back, for he became very angry if contradicted upon this one point, upon which he certainly might be considered to be a little cracked. He was indefatigable in making prose- i to his creed, and expatiated upon the virtues of the medicine for an hour running, proving the truth of his assertions by a pamphlet, which, with his hands, he always carried in his trowsers’ pockets. - Jack reported himself when he came on board, and Mr. Pottyfar, who was on the quarter-deck at the time expressed a hope that Mr. Easy would take his share o the duty, now that he had had such a spell on shore; to which Jack very graciously acceded, and then went down below, where he found Gascoigne and his new pai ore with most of whom he was already ac- quainted, ** Well, Easy,” said Gascoigne, ‘‘ have you had enough of the shore?” os , Rs ‘** Quite,’’ replied Jack, recollecting that, after the events of the night before, he was just as wellon board; ‘I don’t intend to ask for any more leave.” * Perhaps it’s quite as well, for Mr. Pottyfar is not very liberal on that score, I can tell you; there is but one way of getting leave from him.”’ ** Indeed!” replied Jack; ‘and what is that?’’ “You must pretend that Ae are not well, toke some of his quack medicine, and then he will allow you a run on shore to work it off.” ‘*Oh! that’s it, is it? well then, as soon as we anchor = Valette, ll go through a regular course, but not til en.”’ “Tt ought to suit yeu, Jack; it’s an equality medi- cine; cures one disorder just as well as the other.” i Or kills—which levels all the patients. You’re right, Gascoigne, I must patronize that. stuff—for more were than one. Who wasthat person on deck in mufti?”’ “The mufti, Jack; in other words the c plain of the ship: but he’s a prime sailor, nevertheless.’ ‘** How’s that?’ ; ‘Why, he was brought up on the quarter-deck, served his time, was acting-lieutenant for two years, and then somehow or another, he bore up for the church.” ‘** Indeed; what were his reasons?”’ ‘No one knows—but they say he has been unhappy’ ever since,” * Why so?”’ ** Because he dida very foolish thi now be remedied. He supposed at the time that he would make a good parson, and now that he has long got over his fit, he finds himself wholly unfit for it—ha is still the officer in heart, and is always struggling with his natural bent, which is wery contrary to what a par- son should feel.” “Why don’t the , which cannot sign their commissions, like other Roane ?’ ‘It won’t do, Jack—they serve Heaven—there’s a dif. ference between that and serving his Majomey.! nn I don’t understand these things, hen do we sai ” “The day after to-morrow.”’ < ‘ts join the fleet off Toulon?” 4“ es; Spanish coast going ere. Inever knew a man-of-war that was not.’ ‘*No; wind always blows from the south going up the Mediterranean. ”’ | ‘Perhaps you'll take another prize, Jack—mind you don t go away without the articles of war.” ‘I won GO awey without Mesty if I can a ore Oh, dear, how abominable a midshipman’s berth is after a ro run on shore. I positively must go on deck and look at the shore, if I can do nothing else.”’ .. »V by, ten minutes ago you had enough of it!” Yes, but ten minutes here has made me feel quite sick, I shall go to the first lieutenant for a dose,” he 1 say, Easy, we must both be physicked on the same vino be sure; but stop till we get to Malta.” bil. He just completed this heavy operatio Jack went on deck, made acquaintance with th when somebody wanted to speak to him, and a sort of lain and some of the officers whom he had not An half-clerical, half-legal sort of looking gentleman was then climbed up into the maintop, where he took introduced, who, with a starched face and prim air,said| on the armolest, and, as he looked at the that he came to est in wri the name of the offi- | shore, thought over the events that ‘ until cer, who was as a devil in the masquerade of Gypecs came fa ie aay and he thought only of her the night | en a mid is in love, he always goes to think @ oeve) Ss "com Cc allow parsons to be broke bya — court-martial, and turned out of the service, or to re-— but I pubgaee we shall be driver on the —B eS a ee ee