Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 210 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

| ‘ ~ Buccaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea. a A a ae TT hi i and your noble: son have done for me,” and the eyes of Bessie Gito filled with tears, “Percy is anoble boy, Bessie, and I hope happiness may some day come to him in life, for he deserves other than that his days shall be parsed with the shadow now hanging over him; but here be comes.” As Mrs,. Wyndham ceased speaking, Percy Wyndham entered the room, pale and anxious- looking. . A quarter of an bour before he had left the breakfast-room and gone forth upon the piazza, to be shocked by the terrible story told him by Uncle Toby. Now he returned to that reom to break the tidings to Bessie Gito that her father bad been slain by her husband, whose name she had ut- terly discarded forever. Mrs, Wyndham saw at a glance that some- thing had gone wrong with her son, and asked quickly : “Well, Percy, what new trouble has come upon ws, for your face tells me you have some- thing of importance to communicate?” ‘Alas! mother, J am the bearer of news of ill-omen,” he said, with a glance of sympathy toward Bessie, His mother and Bessie both saw the look, and the latter sprung to her feet with the words: ** My father?’ “Yes, Bessie, it is of your father that I have come to tell you,” he answered. She leaned toward him pleadingly, her hands clasped tightly together, and cried in a voice full of pathos: ‘Speak! tell me all, for I can bear it, even though my father be dead.” “My poor girl, your father is dead,” said Percy Wyndham, earnestly. ‘*Dead! my father dead?’ “Yes, Bessie,” “Then Iam alone, all alone in the world,” she cried, in tones that went to the hearts of her hearers, while Mrs. Wyndham answered: “‘ No, no, Bessie, my poor, dear child, you are not alone, for this is your home now, and I will be your mother, and Percy as a brother to you,” She bowed her bead, but could not speak for an instant; but with a mighty effort she con- trolled her emotion, and turned again to Percy, whom she felt had more to tell. ‘(Mr. Wyndbam, how did my father die?’ she asked, with strange calmness, ‘* Bessie, be brave, be strong, for it will nearly crush you to know,” he said, in a voice that trembled in spite of bis self-control. “Tell me, for I am calm,” she answered, and her mien did not belie her words now. ‘« He fell by the hand of the one who has so cruelly wronged you in the past, Bessie,” **Mark Mortimer?” she asked, in a voice that was painfully calm. ** Alas, yes. “He went to The Everglades to see Mr. Mortimer, and there met his death.” Sbe was like a statue now, and her face, white as marble, seemed as impassionless., She drew herself up to her full hight, and were it not for her burning eyes, she would have seemed like one dead, standing upright. Mrs Wyndham and her son were both alarmed about her, and sprung toward her. But she motioned them away, and dropping upon ber knees, raised her eyes and clasped hands toward heaven, while in deep, earnest tones she cried: ‘‘God in heaven hear my vow that Mark Mortimer, for this act, shall die by my hand!” CHAPTER VL ‘) 2 0-) HE TORNADO, .L hours after the sad news was told to’ Bessie Gito, of her father’s death by the hand of Mark Mortimer, a large launch was gliding along the shores, and beading for the little Harbor of Cliff Cottage. ‘The launch was 4 trim-hulled boat, urged on by eight black goer in their white suits and'straw hats, and in the stern, his band rest- ing-upon the'silver-mounted tiller, was Percy Wyndtam. Before him were two persons, one alive, the ‘The living ‘one sat up in the bottom of the boat, and’ was Boesie Gito, bending over the coki, white facé of her dead fathér, whose head rested on her lap. < The launch had stopped at The Everglades landing, and Percy Wyndham and four of his slaves had gone up to the bandsome, but un- happy home, and gotten the body of -the | murdered man. It was the first time that Percy Wyndham had ever been to the home of his foes, and he glanced around him with some interest upon the beauty of the place. He had been met by Mabel Mortimer, who gave him a quiet welcome, told him ber heart bled for poor Bessie, and made known to him her brother’s story of the death-scene in the library. With the body, Percy returned to the launch, which at once got under way for Cliff Cottage. Arriving in the little basin, where were quietly riding at anchor the fisherman’s boats, the launch grounded upon the beach, and the slaves taking up the corpse, all proceeded to the little cabin. Tenderly the dead form was Jaid out in the little sitting-room, and then Bessie turned to Percy, and grasped his hand, while she said earnestly : “‘Oh, you have been so good to me; but now leave me with my dead.” ‘* But, Bessie, it is not well for you to be here alone,” he urged. “I will be, for I must be alone with my dead. ‘‘Return to Lakelands, and this evening, at sunset, come back with your mother, and we will lay father away in his grave, and then I will go with you to your home, as your good mother says I must.” “ And I say 80 too, Bessie.” “Well, I will go, and I will be your sister, Percy; but now leave me.” ‘But my men can some of them remain to dig a grave.” “‘No, I must be all alone, and the grave can be dug when they return this evening.” Percy still urged, but Bessie was obdurate, and at last he yielded and returned with his negroes to the launch, leaving the poor girl alone with her dead father. As the launch returned to Lakelands, one of the oarsmen said: “Massa, dere am a storm comin’ up astarn ob us, sab.” Perey turned quickly, and saw that vol- umes of black clouds were rising in the east, and rapidly spreading over the breakers, **That looks bad, boys, and I have a mind to return to the cottage at once, for that storm will last all day,” he said, and at once, as hav- ing decided on his course, he put about. But he saw that he was too late, and that the blow would strike him before he could reach the cliff basin, and he beld on rapidly to- ward the Lakelands harbor, the negro oars- men working with terrific energy, for they well knew their danger. From her window at The Everglades Mabel Mortimer saw the launch far out upon the waters, and realized its danger. That it could not reach the Lakelands har- bor she well knew, before the gale, or rather tornado, burst upon the waters, for that was nearly a league away. That Perey Wyndham could run into The Everglades harbor, only half a mile from him, she was well aware; but would he save himself by coming upon the shore of his foes? He had come to The Everglades for the body of Juan Gito, it was true; but that was in the discharge of a sacred duty toward Bessie; but she doubted if he would seek the harbor again, even though the lives of his crew and himself were at stake, She had watched the course of the launch, with its ghastly freight, all the way up the coast, until it rounded the cliff point, and then saw it returning, after, as she had believed, the burial of the fisherman. She saw by her glass that Bessie was not in the launch, and wondered. that Percy Wynd- bam should have left her alone in her grief. Then she beheld the rising tornado, ang anx- lously watched the progress of the returning boat. Mabel had lived so long upon the water, that she had become a thorough seawoman, and could manage a boat with a skill’ that had often won her father’s praise, whilesRe was ex- pert in reading the signs of the storms, and knew well that the launch could only escape by a miracle, when the storm struck it. “Will he come into the harbor of The Everglades?” she asked herself aloud, “Ah! he goes about—no, he again comes on—see! they know their danger, and how like giante that black crew pulls!” she cried. “Yes, he bends this way; he will come into: our. harber—no, he still stands on—there he’ seems to waver—Heaven spare him, for he holds on for the Lakelands, and will be lost.” She sprung to her feet as she spoke, darted ' from her room, bounded down the stairs, and called loudly: ‘Duke! Ephraim! Pierre!” Several slaves, at the head of whom was Duke, came quickly at her loud cry, while a mulattress, her maid, seemed terrified almost into hysterics. “Peace, Fidele, and cease that clatter, for no barm has come to me. “But you, Duke, follow me, and, Ephraim and Pierre, you come too.” She darted out of the front door as she- spoke, and the wondering but obedient negroes followed her. A wild scene met their gaze, for the clouds were black as ink half across the heavens, . while the remaining half was cloudless, and the sun illumined the earth and waters to the. westward. But in the eastward a vail of inky hue was trailing from the skies and dragging over the waters with lightning speed, urging before it a wall of foam, and seemingly threatening all in its path with destruction. “ The tornado! the tornado!” shouted the negroes in chorus, while Fidele cried: ““Ah, Missy Mabelle,* look there!” “I seo him, girl, and it is to save him I go,” answered Mabel, bounding down toward the little barbor. The object that had caught the eye of Fidele was the lauveh, just ahead of the tempest- lashed waters, and holding on toward the Lakelands harbor, rather than seek safety in the haven of a foe. As Mabel looked she saw the negro crew of the launch, in obedienee to some order, sud- denly press bard on their starboard oars, which, with the tiller, sent the bows of the boat round to face the tornado. Then, with oars at a rest, they calmly wait- ed the flerce blow that must fall upon them. within a quarter of a minute, ‘Here, Duke, into the lifeboat; you, Ephraim, Pierre and Monk, and I will take the. tiller,” cried Mabel. ‘‘ But, mistis, you will be drowned,” cried Duke. ‘‘Silence, sir, and obey,” was the stern order. Duke looked as though he would rebel, while through his shyt teeth came the hissed words: ‘Let bim die, as be deserves, and then the vendetta will end,” “Pid you hear me, Duke?” ‘Yes, mistis, but I cannot let you risk your life.” ‘‘Coward! it is your life you think of and not mine,” she said, fiercely. | His yellow face flushed, but he answered quickly, yet with respect: “T am no coward, mistis, for I will go alone in the life-boat to the rescue, if you will stay here.” “T will not trust you, for I know how you regard Mr. Wyndham. “Into that boat, Duke, or I will have you put in irons,” He obeyed in silence, the other negroes took up their oars also and Mabel sprung tu her place at the tiller, while Fidele, true to her name, followed ber and crouched down in the bottom of the life-boat, just as the launch was seen to rise on the wall of foam and then sink from sight in the mad waters. | “‘Give way, boys!” shouted Mabe), and the life-boat shot off from the shore like an arrow to the rescue. 3 CHAPTER VII. TO THE RESCUER. THe Lakelands launch was a long, broad, roomy boat, generally used by the family for @ row upon the waters, when there was not wind sufficient for a good sail, but it was by RO means a stanch built craft, and would not have been taken by Percy Wyndham, to earry the body of Juan Gito home, had he felt any dread of a coming storm. When he departed, the skies were clear; bat in the Gulf latitude storms are wont to rise with lightning rapidity, and thus it was that Percy had been caught in the gale with a boat he could not depend upon. * Fidele was a French quadroon. and gave the French aavent to the name of Mabel, * Puro AvTBOR fh » a m “S (E(@) Eboo (E(0) “>