Beadle's Dime Library, No. 198 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

‘‘ Forgive poor Fidele.” ‘This is not a love letter, Fidele; for it is written to the one who killed my father, as you know; but it is a line of gratitude to him, to prove I have not forgotten that he saved me from a fearful fate.” “ You want me to deliver it, missy, over at Lakelands?” “Yes.” ‘‘ Fidele will go now.” “No, you must wait until dark, and then take my light skiff and row down to the Lake- lands’ pier, when you must go up to the man- sion, and deliver it to the bands of Mr. Wynd- ham only.” ‘Yes, missy.” The girl took the note and concealed it in her bosom, and turned toward the door, when she suddenly glanced from the window, and cried: ‘*See, missy! there comes the yacht!” “Which yacht, Fidele?” “ The Jacky-lantern.” Mabel started, and leaving her easy chair, stepped to the window of her little sitting- room, which commanded a fine view of the ground. A mile distant, standiog shoreward under easy tacks, for the wind was off thse land, was the Jack-o’ lantern, Frank Forrester’s yacht. A frown covered the beautiful face and she bit her lips, as though with vexation, while Fidele said: ‘(Too bad he come back so soon, for I know missy don’t like him.” “*Sh—! you must not speak so, Fidele, of your master’s friends.” “Forgive me, missy; but I think he want to marry missy, and—” “Fidele, you must say no more to me on this subject, for Iam but a child in years, and the idea of marryirg never entered my head. ‘Mr, Forrester is my brother’s friend, and when he left a week ago he said he would re- turn here after a short cruise. ‘“T do not like him, andI do not dislike him, and there it ends.” ‘Yes, missy. “T will go, now,” and Fidele was glad to escape, for it was the first scolding she had ever received. After watching the yacht until it dropped anchor close in-shore, and she saw Frank For- rester spring into a boat and row to the pier of The Everglades, Mabel turned away with a sigh, and said: “How strange it is that my gratitude to Percy Wyndham makes me respect him, in spite of the bitter, fearful past, far more than I do Frank Forrester. ‘That man I cannot understand, and yet my brother has hinted that he would like me to become his wife. © “ Wife! why Lam but a child, aud know not even the love by name, at least such love as I would feel for one I expected to marry. ‘But I do feel the greatest gratitude to Percy Wyndham, and now he shall know that I have not forgotten and am not wholly un- grateful. CHAPTER XXXIV. FIDELE’S MISSION, FrooM the piazza of Lakelands, as he paced to and fro, Perey Wyndham beheld the Jack-o’- lantern coming into the harbor of The Ever- glades, and leveled his glass upon her. ‘She bas the same crew of four men, and Forrester is at the helm. “ Well, I cannot get it out of my mind that some mystery clings to that man as well as to his vessel, which was for some time a most daring smuggling craft, before he bought her. ‘‘Some men called hera pirate, \ “ Anyhow, I have half a mind to Track her to see and find out just where Mr. Frank For- rester cruises, and wbat pastime he enjoys. “Uncle Toby says that the rumor is that Mark Mortimer wishes him to marry his sister, but I do not, cannot, will not believe that she will so sacrifice herself.” As the twilight crept over the land and water, Percy Wyndham left the mansion, crossed the broad lawn in front, and went down toward the pier. Out to the end of this he walked, and, seated in the pavilion, became lost in deep meditation, unmindful of the shadows gathering around him. Suddenly he started, for there came to his ears‘a sound he had not beard for many long days. ee - The ————— Rising to his feet he listened a moment, and then, sinking again upon the settee, buried his face in his bands and groaned aloud. The sound he heard was his mother’s voice raised in song. It came floating down to him, borne on the land breeze, and called up the past. Clear and sweet as a bird’s the notes were, for she had a full, rich voice, and it was an old plaintive ballad that she sung, of one pining behind prison bars, It touched the young man deeply, for the two strong loves of his life had been for his mother and father. Now the one lay in his grave back on the hillside, and the other was a maniac who con- stantly was calling out to old Toby: “Give the word to fire, Uncle Toby, that I may kill him.” With his face buried in his hands, Percy Wyndham remained as motionless as though the breath had left his body. But suddenly he again started, and not from the sounds of song, for they had died away. This time it was a sound out upon the waters that met his ear. > There came the low fall of oars, and soon he discovered that the sound grew louder and louder, and that the boat was coming toward the pier where he was, His keen eyes soon detected a dark object upon the waters, and be discovered a small boat containing a single occupant. That the pier was its destination was soon evident, for it came directly to the water stairs and the occupant stepped out. ‘By Heaven! it is a woman,” he said, and he waited to see what would be her next meve. Fastening the boat, she ascended the water stairs and looked toward the mansion, while she said aloud; ‘““ Whew! it’s a long, dark walk, and I’d be scared if I wasn’t going for missy.” “What would you be afraid of, my girl? came the quiet question. ** Mon Dieu ! ab! don’t hurt me,” cried the girl in terror. ‘“T have no such intention; but tell me who you are, and why you have come here?’ He advanced toward her as he spoke, and she held her ground, while she asked: “ Are you the master of Lakelands?” ~ ven ‘‘ Master Percy Wyndham?” a I am.” She appeared satisfied with a closer scrutiny, and said: ‘‘T came to seek you, sir.” ** Indeed!’ “Yes, sir.” “What is your name?” “* Fidele.”’ ** Who are you?” “ Only a quadroon slave, sir.” ‘Where do you come from?” “ The Everglades.” . He started at this, in spite of his nerve, an she saw it, ‘‘Who sent you?” he asked after a pause. ‘ Miesy.” “Your mistress?’ Yes, sir.” ‘Do you mean Miss Mortimer?’ “Yes, sir, Missy Mabelle,” answered Fidele, who always gave the name of Mabel a French pronunciation. ‘You mean that Miss Mortimer sent you to me?’ | Yes, sir.” “Why?” “ With this letter.” She handed the letter to him and then said quickly: *“Now I must go. ** Good-night, sir.” ‘Is there any answer, for I cannot read it here?” . ** No, sir.” ** Good-night.” She re-entered her boat and moved away, while he stood watching her departure. He saw her pull off from the pier for some distance, and then stop rowing. Again she dropped her oars into the water, but she bad changed ber course, as though to row in-shore further. But once more she stopped rowing, and then, with great haste pulled straight out to sea. Her movements were sc peculiar he looked for the cause, Listening attentively he heard only the sound of her oars; but his vision was keen, and ere long he discovered another boat. “That boat has muffled oars and is in. pur- suit of the girl,” he said quickly. Springing down the water stairs he quickly unfastened his own rowboat, seized the cars, and sent it flying over the dark waters, The girl was by this time nearly an eighth cf amile distant, and in her wake only a icw fathoms, was her pursuer. Fidele was a good oarswoman and also pos- sessed strength and endurance, and made her light skiff dart over the waters. But her pursuer also bandled his oars with skill and strength, and slowly gained upon her. To avoid him sbe had stood out to sea, and was rapidly leaving the land; but so far out upon the dark waters, and with a pursuer so near, she began to lose nerve, until she sud- denly detected a boat in the wake of the one that was coming after her. It was yet some distance off, but even in the darkness she could see that it was gaining rapidly, and she determined to give a low cry for help, to discover if it was a friend or foe, for she almost hoped against hope that it was the master of Lakelands, who had discovered her danger, ‘Help! sir, help!” she cried, in a voice not meant to reach the shore, or the Jack-o’-Jan- tern, at anchor, half a mile away, but the ears of the occupant of the second boat. ‘“Ay, ay, my girl, pull hard, and I'll look after that fellow,” came in low tones, but clear, across the waters. She recognized the voice, and gave a light laugh of joy, and then set to work with re- newed energy, for there came in hoarse tones from ber pursuer: ‘*Curse you, gal, I’ll settle you, and then be ready for him. CHAPTER XXXV. THE SPY. On, with strong and rapid strokes pulled the frightened quadroon, for the threat of the man had alarmed her, that he might reach her be- fore Percy Wyndham came up with him. But a glance of a moment at the boat of the young planter told her that he was coming on at a tremendous pace, and she felt renewed courage and the hope that she might hold out until he came up. A row of a few minutes more brought the pursuer of Fidele within a boat’s length of her, and Percy Wyndham was yet three times that distance away. He could fire upon the girl’s pursuer, it was true, and kill him; but a shot upon the waters would alarm them at the The Everglades, Lakelands and on board the Jack-o’-lantern, and he had no desire to figure further in any scenes of a tragic nature. “Say, you better keep off and mind your own affairs, or I’ll make it bad for you,” gruffly said the man who was in pursuit of Fidele, addressing Percy Wyndham. ‘My affair, villain, is tosee what you are chasing that girl for. ‘She asked my help, and she shall have it,” was the stern reply. The man saw that he had a fearless antago- nist to deal with, and made a tremendous effort, which placed him alongside of the quad- roon’s boat. With a cry of alarm, she dropped her oars, and then felt the gripe of the villain upon her arm. But a superhuman effort of Percy Wynd- ham made his boat fairly jump out of the water, and he was the next instant alongside of the light skiff of the quadroon, and his pistol was thrust into the face of the girl’s pursuer, while he said, sternly: “Surrender! or [ll kill you.” The man held a knife in his hand, and this was evidently his only weapon, and he saw that he was caught and mastered; but he said, gruffly: **Who are you?” “ That is a question I intend to ask you, and I shall force from you an answer, too. “Do you surrender?” “TI don’t see how can I help it,” was the dogged reply. “You are wise. “Now, girl, take the painter of his boat and tie his arms behind him, while I keep hiin quiet.” With ready, nimble fingers, Fidele obeyed, and the man was at once securely tied, while he said: EOMmMIicbooks (E(©) ee —— . —