Beadle's Dime Library No. 230 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

a _ Prayer - @ame way as the old doctor to h all my life before, I just shook like a leaf, and the sweat poured off me. And to make matters worve, that big Dane, Lars Nelson, was on his feet, close to me, groan- ing and muttering: ‘Thethird time! The third time! God hel us all! He'll take one of usnow. Eb,my , save me!” And there was this big Dane, that I knew was as brave as a lion, down on his knees, sobbing and praying, with Erik Andersen beside him the Devil's Cruiser coming right down on us, all afire, and full of Satan’s imps. Every one groaning, and the women clung together in a group, while the sailors were as much scared as anybody. Old Hyatt was hiding his face and trying to say the Lord’s while Cyril Adolpbus had his head in bis mother’s lap, trembling all over. Old Bruce sat on a timber, all shrunk up, muttering: ‘Eh, sirs, but it’s fearsome, fearsome. Lord ‘gi’e me for ower-greediness for the siller, and da new kirk when I get hame.” He used to get very broad in his Scotch when he was upset, I looked for old Dr. Peters, and the old man rs just comforting and petting his wife, and ng her not to be afraid. Mame Bruce and Inez were close together like wild things at the ghostly ship, an yse was near them, talkin os em in the wife, The young fellow actually did not seem to be bit afraid, and no more did Mungo Johnston or Dr. Sam Peters. much so that, as I’m a living man, I saw go take a brand out of the fire and wave it in the air, as if to try and attract the attention of the Devil’s Cruiser. I couldn’t stand that, and I ran to him and threw the brand in the water very angrily, cry- ng: Ry want you to understand that J command this raft, Mr . Johnston, and I’ll have no one to call the devil down onus. If he must come he ‘must; but Pl not call him. Put out that fire, bo 5.” ae the sailors dashed water on it in no time and had it out, when the fiery ghost was still -_gaid it, thoug “a to what more than a mile off, so that 1 had my hopes we might yet escape unseen, and said so. t Lars Nelson interrupted me. “‘Tt is no use, captain,” he said. ‘‘It is the third time, and the Evil One will have his own. He will have us all—if one does not go to bim willingly as a sacrifice for the rest. Then he may be satisfied.” ungo Johnson laughed out loud and called to Sam Peters: ou think of that, Sam? Who Jeny-ah ?” (That was how he I don’t know what he meant.) “The gods demand a victim. Will you go tor us ‘Not much!” said Sam, shrugging his shoul- ders. ‘‘I don’t leave this raft. These super- etitious donkeys will all go crazy, if some one isn’t here to put sense into them.’ well,” answered Mungo, “I'll go out your Paine Dutchman myself, and show you fools you all are. If he’s the devil, he’s ‘welcome to bave me, and if he’s a real ship, he can’t but take us all off this raft.” * efow will you go?’ cried I, for I actuall felt like worshiping the young fellow for his a are several planks left in the main- There ” said he, ‘‘and I'll take an oar and paddle are willing. If you don’t let me, will miss us in the dark; for you see he’s slowly voesinng out of his course, uow he ~ our light no longer. Now understand— m going to get in his course and let him pick me up. If he’s the devil, 'll not come back. If he’s an honest ship, Ill make him come here gains Are — willing all?’ ou may be sure we al] answered yes, and every one was anxious to hurry him off. - ~ e@ were half afraid and half curious, but none _of us would have dared to go out alone, We hauled out the remains of the main-top, which, as you all know, I suppose, is a half- sound platform at the foot of the top-mast, able o several men; got it launched; gave ungo an oar, and saw him go off, sweeping hig oar like a paddle from side to side, and get- ting away from tbe raft at a pace that con- vinced me there must be quite a strong current going through the sea, Then we watched, and saw that the flery ship had altered her course, and was sweeping up and down on the smooth sea as if seeking something. What had become of Mungo Johnston no one - knew, for the darkness very soon swallowed him up, and we were too low down by the wa- ter to see far. But up and down the Flying .Dutchman went, his filmy sails always full, on whatever tack they seemed to be set, and we heard no sound but the soft lapping of the sea “on the timbers of the raft. . [reckon we must bave waited a good bour, wher sucdenly we saw a little flash of light and .@ twinkling like the burning of a match down on the sea in the very course the Flying Dutch- oan was pursuing. er es +e ‘* Mungo’s got him,” cried Sam Peters. ‘‘ They see him. The ship alters her course. Now, captain, what do you think of your Flying Dutchman? The devil don’t go round hunting for sinners by the light of a match. That’s a real ship, or a Dutchman.” And sure enough, the fiery ship sailed right down on the very place where Mungo Jobnston had struck his solitary match, and went steadi- ly forward. Presently we saw it wear round and come up to the wind as I should have said it had been a real ship; and then it remained there for a full two hours and while our pom began to say: “Ts ita ship or a devil? What is it? What can it be? Will it come bere or not?” And just at that micute we saw a great flash and a cloud of black smoke that went up to the stars, as if something had blown up, and when it cleared me the ship had gone, ‘*The Evil One has taken our friend,” said Lars in a low voice. ‘ The trouble is over.” CHAPTER IX. THE LIVING CROSS. You may think that, after that, we on the raft felt gloomy and cast down enough. We had all liked ey Mungo Johnston, spite of his homely freckled face and greenish eyes; for that face had always had a brave smile on it, and those eyes were the strongest in the ship. The two es got off into a corner of the raft, and I beard them talking to each other in a low, mournful way, while old Bruce kept say- ing: f Eb, sirs, but it’s awful, awful! Puir lad, puir lad! My ain flesh and blude; and the deil’s got bim! Sae young!” Even Mame Bruce, who had seemed to hate him, was crying with her grandfather, saying: ‘*Poor Mungo! And we let him go, and we’)l never see him again! Oh how wicked I feel!” She even seemed to take a sort of pleasure in spiting Denyse, for I heard her say to bim: ‘Yes, you can talk, but he went and died for us! Oh, I shall never, never forgive myself. He was my own kinsman.” I thought this rather rough on Denyse; but then I've noticed that girls like to be cruel to men. They don’t care who gets hurt as long as they spite some one, and nothing delights them more than setting one man against anoth- er. Mame Bruce was a born flirt, and made on purpose to set men by the ears. I'd noticed her trying to get Johnston and Denyse jealous of each other, and it wasn’t long now before she turned to Sam Peters, and began to talk to him, giving Denyse the cold shoulder, as we sat on the raft discussing what had happened. One thivg was certain: we were all down on Denvse and Sam Peters, for baving pretended the Flying Datchman was a real ship; and they hadn't a word to say for themselves, now that Mungo Johnston had gone in such a terrible manner. You may try to pretend you don’t believe in ghosts; but ] tell you, when you see things with your own eyes, you can’t help believing, and we'd seen a ixeleton ship sail the seas and van- ish into nothing, and we couldn’t rub tbat out of our minds, 1 guess we must have sat up there till near morning, afraid to go to sleep, for fear the thing should come in, and found ourselves drop- ping off from sheer weariness at last. I woke up myself with the sun’s beat striking me and found a light breeze rising, with the sky speckled with clouds, the sea rippling into little waves, all covered with gold spangles, and the fish jumping cut of the water all round the raft like as if they were glad it wasn’t going to be so hot as the day before. I saw Lars Nelson standing by the edge of the raft looking out over the sea, and when I spoke to him the man gave a start, and I saw his face was wet with tears. ‘* What are pe thinking of?” says I. **T was thinking, ca tain, that 1 was a cow- ard last night,” he said; ‘““and that if we had it to do over again, that boy shouldn’t have gone where be did.” ‘* Why not, Lars?’ says I. ‘* Because,” says he, “ he was too good for the devil to have him. I’m strong and able to fight. Ah, captain! Ragnar Oleson would be ashamed of me now.” “Never mind,” says I, to comfort him, ‘‘ The devil can’t hurt a good man; and he was a good one. You know bow Ragvar Oleson fought the devil, and beat him. Maybe Mungo John- ston can do the same.” Lars shook his head. ‘*No, no; we shall never see him a , cap- tain, unless one of us follows him with a piece of the true cross, to guard him from evil.” ‘A piece of the true cross!” says I. ‘* What stuff are you talking, Lars! here’ll we get that, and what use would it be? I begin to lieve there are such things as devils on earth, but I can’t swallow pie nag you know,” And no more I could. y father was an elder in the church and superintendent of a Bible-class for twenty-five years, and he’d trained me up to despise all sorts of low super- stitions, But Lars only shook his head, The Flying Dutchman of 1880. | — ee ee ** You don’t believe it,” he sa ‘‘T know that. You Americans don’t know what it is to have real miracles, but we’re used to them in Denmark. There is a piece of the true cross in the church at Singapore, and I’m going te steal it, if ever we get there, and ig bunting for that poor boy. I owe that to good Lord for eae last night, when I ought to have been taken.” He spoke quite quiet and reasonable, and looked as if he was changed for the better, The fierce look was gone out of bis eyes, and he was as gentle as a lamb. We ate some breakfast, such as it was; but we found more trouble come on us with the light. The heat of the day before bad started the fresh water to rotting, and it was all full of worms, so we had to boil it and throw ont the worms before we could drink any. And | saw, er enough, that before night it would be so d, boiling would not save it. We didn’t say much. We had begun to get gloomy and des- perate since that fiery ghost had ging us, bringing more misfortune every time she came and we just sat down und waited, as pa- tient as we could, for the coming of a sail. The breeze cooled the sunlight, so we could live; and yet it was hot enough to make us drowsy, so we dozed away most of the morn- ing till I heard Lars Nelson, all of a sudden roar out at the top of his voice: ‘The cross! the cross! The living cross! Holy Jesu be thanked! We shall be saved!" I looked at bim, and saw him capering like a — and staring up at the sky to the south- east. _ The people roused up and tried to see what he was staring at, when we made out what looked just like a white cross in the sky, moving on to- ward us. At first I was puzzled, but in another moment I knew what it was—an albatross, floa along with his wings spread out, and never a feather stirring. If the bird had given a flap of his broad wings he wouldn’t have looked so like a cross, but it’s the nature of them to go that way for days and days; for an albatross sometimes won’t go near land for weeks at a time, and seems to sleep on the wine. And there came that blessed bird, all shining white as snow, as true a cross asl ever saw; _ re tele were poste sg pnd Erik Andersen, g strong men, crying like es and laughin again just to see it; for all we sailors kne that our troubles would soon be over. I’m not superstitious, and I never was; but what 1 know I know; and I never knew a ship sail on Friday, but what sbe had bad luck, while I never knew an albatross come but what it brought good luck. And that albatross was coming for us just as straight as a loaded bee flying toa hive, — Every minute it grew plainer and pleiner, till we could see its head and body, and on it went till it was right overbead, w it began to wheel round and round, coming lowér and lower every minute, til) at last it settled down on the end of our raft and looked at us, just as tame as a chicken. I’ve seen albatrosses settle on ships before. They seem to know the sailors won’t hurt them. This fellow sat there and looked at us as much as to say: i ‘* Weill, haven’t you something for me?” And Lars Nelson ran to the meat-box before any one could ae bim, and had out a can of corned beef, cutting it open with his sheath-knife. ‘Hold on,” says I, ‘‘we may want that our- selves,” ‘No, no,” he cries, ‘‘The blessed bird must be fed, or he’ll leave us and take the luck with him. [ll give up my sbare to bim, captain. We'll see a sail in the place where he came from.” And he emptied out all the meat before the albatross, that took it, as tame as a chicken, and ate it all up. CHAPTER X. THE SAIL. I wapn’t the heart to stop the Dane; he seemed to believe his story so well, and I let him feed the albatross, which after it had ate the meat just settled down on the raft with its long wings spread out as much like a cross as ever, and shut its eyes as if it proposed to go to sleep. Lars Nelson came tip-toeing back, and whis- nates to us not to disturb the bird or it would eave us, ‘*Look where he came from,” says be, “ and if we don’t see a sail soon I’)]l never believe in the cross again.” So we all sat gazing out to the southeast for the rest of that day, with the albatross sleeping on the end of the raft till the sun was getting close to the horizon, when Lars spoke up, as quiet and confident es could be, and says he; “IT told you so. There comes a sail at last,” And he was right. Before the sun had quite set we could make out a big brown sail very plainly, and it came ata pace that showed it must belong to a Malay prow, one of the liveliest craft im the world, or rather two of them tied together, for the Malays build their vessels in the catamaran style, and they fairly fly through the water. Eomicdooks (EC)