Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 210 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 Buccaneer Bess, THE LIONESS OF THE SEA;| OR, THE RED SEA TRAIL _& Momance of the Gulf of Mexico and its Shores. A Companion Story to “The Skeleton Schooner,” , and ‘“ Tho Gambler Pirate,” : BY COL, PRENTISS INGRAHAM, THOR OF ‘‘ MERLE, THE MUTINEER,” “ MONTE. ZUMA, MERCILESS,” ETC., ETO, : } .( CHAPTER J. A sTancH cabin, if I may so use the word, for it was built of sbip-imbers mostly, stood upon. a bold point of Jand jutting out from the eoast into what is now known as Mississippi Sound, which is divided from the Gulf of Mexico by achain of islands, that act as a barrier against the more savage seas rolling in re prpene deep water. The cdbin was known“along the coast as Cliff Cottage, and it was the’abiding-place of a man, upon whose life a shadow and a deep mystery hung, and bis only child, a maiden of ineteen at the time this story opens. »/ To the planters and their slaves, the coasters and fishermen, the owner of Cliff Cottage was known as Juan Gito, and-bis calling was that of fishing forthe markets of New Orleans and Mobile, to one of which ports he was wont to go every week or two. Rumor had it that Juan Gito was a pro- verbially unlucky fisherman, 6nd yet bis cabin was a comfortable one, and it was furnished with really many luxuries, while an air of refinement pervaded all about it, from the flower-dotted lawn to the cosey sitting room, and that fair and tasteful fingers had done much to adorn and beautify the home was : « vident. Standing upon the cliff that gave the cottage ifs name, a grand view was obtaivable, for the arm of land jutting into the sea encircled to the éastward, and formed a miniature harbor, where were several small craft lying at anchor, and three or four skiffs drawn upon the snowy gand. The cottage stood back from the point a hundred yards, and witha plot of grass and flower-beds in front, a winding path to the cliff, and another to the beach, had about it, sheltering it securely with*their protecting branches, several majestic magnolia and live- oak trees. Behind the house was a small out-house in which were kept a pony and a cow, and over all pervaded an air of comfort bardly con- sistent with what might be expected of an un- lueky and poor fisherman. Back of the cottage was the dense forest, and to the eastward stretched the tree-fringed eoast, grand, silent, gloomy with its festoons of Spanish moss, and only here and there broken by a lagoon, or bayou, which emptied its dark, sluggish waters into the Gulf. To the westward, after a league of dark forest extending from the point, the view was far different, for upon the sloping shores, two” leagues distant, was a lordly plantation home known as The Everglades, and the home of wealth and refinement. Velvet lawns, dotted with the beautiful live- oaks of that region, ran to the water’s edge, in front of the mausion, while upon either side were flower-gardens, the fragrance from which pa pang far around them. nae Oa the villa, in the distance, was the ’ mae & ee "4 if § of! _—* ~ Cake Ry ie draped with the funereal moss so common | the far Southern latitude, and which dr even the largest trees with robes a somber gray. ; Beyord The Evergiades, as this, the home of the Mortimers, was called, was another lordly estate, which, bordering the shore for miles, was called Lakelands. Here too, from the far-away point upon which stood Juan Gito’s cabin home, could be geen a bandsome villa of white stucco, with | call old, old stories, told them by their kindred ornamental grounds, gardens and parks sur- rounding it, and the negro quarter ‘ar away in the rear, their, white cabins nightly re- lieved against the dark green of the forest, In the harbors before each of these hand- some estates, the houses of wealth and good blood, but not of happiness, were little fleets, from the handsome yacht of thirty tons to the cat-rig sail-boat and gayly painted surf-skiff. Beyond Lakelands and The Everglades were other plantation houses, though none of the same grandeur, for no one else on the coast had the same wealth as had the Wyndhams and the Mortimers, _ cupants of these threo ‘ loves and their hates, ‘ows, that my pen has ind reader, a romance r™ their joys and their so to write its romance, k it is true, but founded upon a realit; that many in the far-away Southla who have passed away, and know that I have but drawn a pen-picture of an o’er truo tale. CHAPTER II. A TRAGEDY AT THE EVERGLADES, A sHoT rung through the elegant mansion of The Everglades, a death-cry followed it, a heavy fall shook the house, and a man stood above a dead body, while a white-faced mai- den and. trembling slaves rushed into the ele- gant library where the tragedy bad occurred, and gazed in horror upon the one whose band, still -holding.the. pistol, had sent.a,soul, into eternity. Out from the room, with stern white face, strode the master of The Everglades, who had fired the death-shot, and away from bis path shrunk the frightened slaves: but he was si- lently followed by the maiden who had arrived upon the scene to find that the roof that had sheltered her from infancy, had been shamed by a murder beneath it. Striding up the broad stairway, the man turned into a large and luxuriously-furnished room, quietly and silently followed by the maiden, who closed the door behind ber,’ while she cried in angry tones, mingled with re- proach: “‘ Brother! Mark, what have you been guilty of?” He turned upon her with livid face and glar- ing eyes, and answered: “TY have killed one who well deserved his fate.” That the two were brother and sister, a glance would show, for they were strangely alike in face and feature, The man was young, hardly more than twenty-one, yet looking older, for dissipation marked his otherwise handsome face, and an ungoverned temper showed itself upon brow and mouth, while upon the latter rested a look that was sinister and treacherous. Still his face was very handsome, and with his tall, graceful form, be was one to win the admiration of all who could not look through his eyes, the windows of his soul, into his heart, and read there its blackness. The maiden was not sixteen, yet she too appeared several years older, as her superb form was well matured, and her face was full of calm dignity that softened in its extreme beauty. She was dressed in exquisite taste, and the folds of her gauzy dress clung about her as gracefully as vailing about a statue. Now her face was stern, reproachful and horrified at the act of ber brother, and in an- swer to his words she said firmly: ‘‘No one is so vile, Mark Mortimer, as to be sent into eternity without an instant’s warn- » ‘ He would have slain me had I not killed him,” he answered in an angry tone. “No, Mark, for I saw all as I sat upon the ato her eyes, while she con- “Your words I did not hear; but I saw make me feel that poor Juan Gito ggressor, and yet his has been PSSU “Mark! brother, you are of late getting fearfully entangled in a net, and I warn you to pause and think ere you go further in your career of wrong.” “For Heaven's sake, Mabel, ush this clat- ter, Buccaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea. A ‘‘Tam my own master, and shall do as I please, and as Juan Gito attacked me I shot him, and there it ends. . * But, a8 you seem to wish to make trouble out of it, by reporting differently, I shall’ sail for New Orleans at once, and write a letter to the authorities of what 1 | ave done, for the man is a pirate, cams here to get me to buy a dia- mond which he had robbed me of, in some way, and when I recognized it, and would have claimed my own, he sought to kill me, ‘‘That is all there is of it, and as there were no witnesses—” en) SO ‘*T saw it, Mark.” one “No, you did not, and I would not advise you to say so.” L 4 ‘‘T am not to be intimidated,” she said, firmly. “Then you would wi:h*to report differently from what I do, cause my story to be sus- pected, and get me tried before a jury of the poor trash living inJand, and who do not like me, and bave my life end on a gallows,” “No, no, Mark, I would not do that,” “Then let the matter rest, and my story of no witnesses will be believed.” ** My course shall be determined wholly upon what questions are asked me,” was the cold reply. “So be it. from afar. ‘‘Farewell, Mabel, and when next we meet may you have more love for your brother than now.you have,” he said, with a sneer, “‘The acts of evil which my brother has comwitted have caused him to forfeit my re- spect, and without respect I cannot love, no matter how deep a feeling I may have for’you, because the same blood flows in our veins, be- cause together we .were childien, loving each other, trusting each other then, and not as now estranged by, your actions, ‘‘Good-by, brother, and may the Holy Mother guide and protect you.” She glided from the room as she spoke, and he summoned’ his valet, Duke; a tall) power- fully-formed mulatto, with a distinguisbed air, and bold, resolute face that showed he fretted a the yoke of slavery in which he was b I shall be off to view matters CHAPTER III. MASTER OR MISTRESS. Tue Mortimers were a proud, haughty race, with tempers that had cast many a shadow upon their lives for generations past. All that remained of the name, at the time of which I write, was the wild, reckless youth, whose band took the life of Juan Givo, and his lovely sister, Mabel; their father, Major Mor- timer, having been killed in a duel vendetta some time before, it was said, by young Percy Wyndham of Lakelands, whose father had afterward been slain in a hostile mesting, fought from the decks of their respective yachts, by none other than young Mark Mor- timer himself. Rumor had it that Percy Wyndham would avenge his father’s death and his mother’s mad- ness, for it was said the blow bad driven her mad, by calling out Mark Mortimer; but months had passed and Le had not done s0, and rumor seemed at fault, until the gossip went round that there was « reason for the buryin of the hatchet, as the young master of Lake. lands bad twice saved the life of the lovely mistress of The Everglades, Mabel Mortimer Once from men who would have kidnapped ber, and again, when she had drifted to sea in an open boat. But, be this as it may, it was certain that the pathway made long years before, when the fathers of those of whom I write were boys and friends, remained still weed-grown, and the gulf between The Everglades and Lakelands still remained open. ? Strange stories went floating around of both elegant homes; but in grim : to the outer world the Mortimers and Wyndhams lived until Juan Gito, the Lagoon Fishe had gone to The Everglades and met: his death ands of its haughty young master, ing that his act was one he wished not losely investigated, with his sister to tell the whole truth, Mark Mortimer had ordered his yacht to a6 once sail for New Orleans, the scene of bis wildest orgies, and . Duke, the former confidential slave of his father, he intended should accompany him, ‘‘By Heaven!” he muttered, after the de- parture of his sister from the room. ‘““Bat matters are complicated about me SS ae EORNIG DOO KSA(eO) Ns) . x2) : ee J 7 PS 7 ; ’