Beadle's Dime Library, No. 198 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 The Skeleton Schooner: THE SeIMMER OF THE SEA. A Tale of Buccaneering Times on our Southern Coast, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF ‘*MERLE, THE MUTINEER,” ‘‘ MON- fEZUMA, THE MERCILESS,” ‘‘ FREELANCE, THE BUCCANEER,” ‘‘ WILD BILL, THE PISTOL DEAD SHOT,” ‘‘ WILD BILL’S GOLD TRAIL,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER IL. '@&° DECOY LETTER. A MAN sat upon his horse, gazing out upon the sunlit waters of Mississippi Sound, bis eyes intently fixed upon a small yacht that was flying away from the silver-sanded shore under the pressure of a five-knot breeze. The horse was a thoroughbred, and stood with arched neck, champing his bit, and await- ing the will of his master, with all the patience of a well-trained animal, The horseman was a man of forty-four per- haps, with a darkly sun-browned face, refined in features, and yet with a look that was not wholly frank, for he seemed to wear a mask to hide.a heart not pure, He was dressed in a suit of white flannel, wore gloves upon his small bands, riding-boots covered his shapely feet, and bis head was sheltered by a soft Panama straw hat. Certainly he was a very handsome man, and one whose face indicated powers of fascination far above ordioary mortals, and he seemed one to win thelove of men and the almost idolatrous worship of women. ‘How strange is it,” he said in a low, rich tone, “that our paths in life should have crossed again. ff a> seems indeed set FR that shapes our Soodiiow them cocwers x for I had believed that we would never meet again, and yet bere she comes to live upon the very land that adjoins my own, and as the wife. of a man who was, in the long ago, my most intimate friend, but is now my foe. | 8 in his yacht, and his destina- dently New Orleans, and if she loves ibaa sk once she did, she will certainly let meé know that she is alone, for she has forgiven the past I know.” He remained silent for some time, his gazo still fixed upon the rapidly receding yacht, until it. grew dim in the hazy distance. Then he started, for he heard a step behind bim, 7 . y he beheld an old negro man, whose d appearance indicated that be was an u ant upou some of the plantations that lined the shores of the lake. He was mounted upon a small, snow-white ule, Whose hoof-falls were as light as a deer, and came ambling toward the spot where the ter sat on his horse, awaiting his approach vith some interest, for he secmed to recognize the negro. “Well, Uncle Toby, which way?’ asked the planter, pleasantly, in that familiar way in = fa a well-bred Southerner always addressed hful and respected servitor. looking for you, sah,” was the reply, gro raised root straw bat. the planter’s face slightly Pore have a letter , with none of the Gaiots oF the off which writers seem’ to > ia pec place in the mouths of _all colored people, but which the “house-ser- vants ” are almost invariably free of. “Tt has been a long time since we last spoke te or Uncle Toby.” , and it was.a sad time then,” anneal nele Toby, with a sigh. “Thave not forgotten the occasion, Uncle Toby, for if was when I met your master in a duel, and he gave me the wound which so nearly "cost me wy life,” said Major Mortimer, with a slight frown, “Tam glad that it did not kill you, sah, and I know that master is too; but here is the letter, sah.” He handed the planter a debhicate little scented —wuvdlegie _The Skeleton Schooner. ee . addressed in a ferninine hand, to: . “MAJOR MARK MORTIMER, The Everglades Plantation.” “Does it require an answer, Toby?’ asked the planter, seemingly not caring to read it before the negro. “Yes, sab.”’ He broke open the letter and read: **One who knew Major Mark Mortimer well in the bygone begs an interview with him now for a few moments. **The bearer of this note will lead Major Mortimer | to the writer of it.” There was np signature, but the planter | seemed to know well who the writer was, for his face flushed and paled by turns. “Where is the Senora Nina, Uncle Toby?’ ‘* At thé Magnolia Arbor, sah.” “Ab!” and the planter slightly started, but added quickly: **T will accompany you, Uncle Toby, as the Senora Nina desires it.” The negro bowed, and, turning bis mule, rode back into the forest that lined the shores, while Major Mark Mortimer followed, going straight into a net which bad been woven for him, and into which the letter had been a decoy. ) eee eee nn CHAPTER IL. THE MEETING. ABovuT a quarter of a mile from the spot where Major Mortimer had been seated upon his horse, gazing at the receding yacht flying away over the waters of the lake,* was a clump of superb magnolia trees, which had grown together in a way to form a natural arbor, in which had been placed rustic seats and a table. It was a lonely retreat, and known far and near as the Magnolia Arbor. A path led to it from a plantation house, that could be seen in the distance, and it seemed to have once extended on through the forest toward another handsome homestead a mile away, but the latter pathway seemed now to have been long unused, for it was weed-grown, and its outline bardly traceable. The Magnolia Arbor was on the boundary line between the Mortimer plantation, known as * The Everglades,” and the Wyndham plan- tation, called by its master, ‘‘ Lakelands.” Long years before it had been the favorite resort of the two young hairs to the separate estates, Mark Mortimer and Percy Wyndham, and they bad fitted it up as a balf-way ground, where they were wont to enjoy themselves ac- cording to their boyish humor. Now, seated within the dense shadows of the arbor was a woman, her fingers nervously drumming upon the rustic table, while near her stood in respectful silence a young mulat- tress. The woman seated at the table had a dark but exquisitely beautiful face, with an unmis- takable foreign cast, and though past her thirty-seventh year, seemed scarcely out of her. teens to an ordinary observer. Her form was willowy, s'ender, yet full, and her face almost ‘perfect in its beauty of outline, while her eyes were large, fringed with long lashes, and full of passion. About her sboulders was thrown a Spanish scarf, though the day was warm, and a vail drooped from a pear] comb in her raven-hair. Her fingers were heavy with jeweled rings, ber ears had suspended from them diamonds of rare size and richness, and about eac " wrist was anges e a bracelet of § d § with rubies. aoe But the beautiful face was stern the red lips were set, as though with some de- termined resolve, ‘* You do not see Uncle Toby coming yet, Phoebe?” she asked, addressing the mulattress, who arose and glanced out of the arbor, and answered: “No, mistis,+ not yet.” . “He must come, for this is my only chance to save my husband—bah! I forgot,” and she ended her sentence with a look of withering scorn, called up by some thought that had sud- denly flashed —— her mind. “ Yes, mistis, he is coming,” said the mulat- tress. “* Aad alone?’ * The Sound was, years ago, called a lake. + The negro style of saying mistress. et —_—— —— ee — - ~~ — - — — The woman asked the question almost sav. agely, so earnest did she seem. ‘‘No, mistis, the major is with him,” was the answer. ‘Thank God!” Firmly and fervently wore the words uttered, as though in prayer, and then the lovely faca became flushed, yet calm, Up to the arbor rode Major Mark Mortimer, looking very handsome indeed, and with a face that was flushed with expectancy. ‘Here, Uncle Toby, hold my reins,” he said, | as be dismounted. The old negro caught the reins thrown him, but also dismounted and led the horse and his mule to a tree near by. At the rustic entrance to the arber Major Mortimer paused and raised bis Panama hat, while he bent low in silence, for he beheld the white-robed form before him. ‘‘Major Mortimer, I am glad you have come,” said the woman, in ber full, rich tones. ‘‘And I am glad, Nina, to meet you once more after these long years,” he answered, ad- vancing as though to take ber band. But she drew back, and said sternly: ‘‘ Be seated, sir, and know that 1 am glad to meet you again, oh, so glad! but between us there is a great gulf fixed, which you can nevor cross,” “ Nina, I—” ‘*Hold! Mark Mortimer, I sent for you that we might meet again, and we bave met for a purpose.” As But, Nina—” “ How dare you call me by that name, sir?” “Then, Mrs. Wyndham, let me say that what there is between us need not be discussed even in the presence of slaves,” and he glanced toward the mulattress and Uncle Toby, who just then came to the arbor door. “They are here by my order, sir, for they must hear all that passes between us.” ** Would you be so mad, Nina Wyndham?’ he said, sternly, ™ Yes, I would be mad enough to do any- thing, Mark Mortimer. ‘* There, be seated, while I tell Fn why I sent for you.” — She motioned to the seat upon the other side of the table. But he folded his arms and said calmly: “T prefer to stand here, and, if it is your wish to draw slaves into your eonfidenee, lam ready to hear what you would say.” “Tt is my wish, for I can trust that man and his daughter with my life.” “I do not doubt it, yet still I prefer to keep my own secrets,” he answered, with some ner- vousness of manner, “They will be kept inviolate by Uncle Toby and Phoebe; and I want them as witnesses. **Do you know where my husband is?” “IT saw him awhile since in his yacht, bead- ing toward New Orleans.” ‘True, be has gone there, and eds why I sent for you.” © ; “Indeed!” and Major Moi r brows with surprise. * “Yes, and do you know why btn gone to New Orleans?” “How should I know?” | ; ** Tt interests you.” | ‘In what way?” “He has gone there to seek sek yoo.” ‘‘ Ah! why did he not seek my house?” The woman laughed bitterly, and asked quickly, as though changing the subject: “You remember thle spot, f suppose?” ‘< Well,” ‘ “‘ Here you and Perey Wyndham have spent many hours as boys and bosom friends?’ “Yes, long ago.” . tet “True, if was long ago, for arl thirty-eight.” ns o> 4 : “You do not look it, Nina, oP te have changed little since we last met, twenty-four years ago,’ said the man, honestly, and with no evident intention to flatter her ‘* You are mistaken, Mark Mortimer; I hava changed greatly, for then I was a loving girl, a child really, innocent of mankind, and now I am a woman, a wronged one, and a revenge- ful one,” He fairly started at her vehement manner, and said: “No, no, Nina, not revengeful, for your na- ture was not one to bear malice and hatred.” ‘‘ Was not, Mark Mortimer, but it is now, and my heart is full of the venom of batred ani revenge, as you shall know, and, if it were not that I have a conscience left, I would kill Adee f his JOO cS EGOmMmiic (El) & —— = ,