Beadle's Dime Library No. 341 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

town. thus transforming the rig of the craft into a ~~ . "" — - "y: 7 "> p i * ‘ The Sea Desperado. 3 evidently of Spanish blood, one an English- | crew were sent below, the two Spanish look- man, and the other an American. ing officers betook themselves to the cabin, The first two had the dark faces, black | and Captain Morte and his English lieuten- eyes and slender forms of their race; the | ant discarding their uniforms for the dress Englishman was a tall, finely-built man with | of humble skippers, stood on deck together, a reckless face, and the look of one who had | watching the lights of the town as they drew been born to better fortune than herding | nearer and nearer. with sea cut-throats; while the American ‘‘She sails well in her disguise, Duval,” was the youngest of the quartette, with an | said the pirate captain, admiringly, to his aristocratic cast of countenance, marred by | lieutenant. dissipation and recklessness, and a look of ‘*She does, indeed, senor; but you do not almost desperation haunting his otherwise | think it possible to be recognized?” fine eyes. ‘* No, indeed, for how can we, as from a He was the commander of the vessel, and | lateen rig we have become a schooner. was known to his crew as El Capitan, while | “Tt is true we have remarkably short he answered to the name of Captain Morte. | lower masts and tall topmasts, but that will He wore white duck pants, a loose jacket | hardly be noticed, especially at night. of blue flannel, trimmed with gold lace, a ‘*Still, even if we were recognized, and yellow silk sash about his waist, and a tar- had to fight for it, I would run into yonder paulin encircled by a gold cord. port this night, for I have other work to do In his sash were stuck two pistols, and a | there than to capture the brig,” and the cap- sword hung on a hook by his side. tain began to pace to and fro in deep thought, His under officers, or lieutenants, were | until suddenly roused from his reverie by dressed in similar style, excepting that thcir | the stirring cry of: trimmings were of silver instead of gold “* Sail ho!” lace, while the crew boasted of a pair of white pants, a blue woolen shirt, red skull- cap, went barefooted, but were armed to the teeth, and looked the desperate set they were. Turning to his officers as the brig disap- peared in the harbor, Captain Morte said CHAPTER IY. THE PIRATE IN PORT, THE pirate captain did not start at the cry from the lookout at the mast-head, as the others on the vessel’s deck did, for they were wes ever on the alert to hear the words that an- ‘Well, senors, she has escaped us for the | nounced danger or gold to them. present.” Turning his face toward the lookout, Cap- ‘1 fear altogether, sir,” answered the Eng- | tain Morte called out, in an easy tone: lishman. ** Whereaway, sir?” ** Dead ahead, sir.”’ ** How heading?” “Coming toward us, sir, and out of the harbor.” ‘“‘ Ay, ay, keep your eyes upon her, and let me know what you make cf her.” A few moments after the lookout hailed the deck. “Ay, ay,” called back the outlaw captain. “She is a large barque, and looks like a merchantman, as well as I can make her out.” ‘‘She may be a valuable prize, but we dare not board her now; but I will pass near, to find out what she is,” and the captain gave an order to his helmsman. It was evident that the barque did not de- sire to avoid the stranger, but heid on her course, and the glass soon showed that she was crowded with men, while port-holes were in her sides. ‘*By Neptune, but I believe she is sent out to capture my vessel, having been hastily manned and armed for that purpose,” cried the pirate captain. ‘“ Will you run from her, senor, as we have no guns on deck?” ‘*No, indeed, Duval, for why should an honest-looking craft like ours run from any- thing but a pirate?’ and the young outlaw laughed lightly. “There, she shows a desire to come nearer, so keep your helm up a little, helmsman, as I have no desire to avoid her.” The course the two vessels were now steer- ing soon brought them near to each other, and each could be distinctly seen with the naked cye. “The barque is crowded with men, and, as I thought, is after us,” said the pirate chief, and, springing upon the bulwarks, he shouted out, in a voice that every ear on the stranger heard: ‘“Ho, the barque, ahoy!” ‘‘ Ay, ay!” came in hoarse tones from on board the schooner. “We have been chased in by a pirate, and he now lies a few leagues in our wake.” ‘‘ Ay, ay, he is the fellow we are looking after, if he carries lateen sails.” ‘* He does, and is a West Indian, and sails like the wind.” “All right, and thank you; but. what schooner is that?” ‘The Nestor, out of Bangor. What barque is that?” was the prompt response and ques- tion, ‘The Helen Hayward, armed and manned to run down that red pirate,’ came floating faintly back over the waters, and the young ‘*Oh, no, for I shall run in and cut her out to-night,” was the cool rejoinder of the young captain, and, bold as they knew him to be, the assertion was a surprise to his lieu- tenants, all of whom uttered an exclamation of amazement, while the Englishman said: “Surely, Captain Morte, you would not enter an armed American port to cut outa vessel?” “Surely I will, Senor Duval, for I know what cargo that brig carries, having been one of the hired crew in Havana that helped to place it in her hold. ‘Then I was one of the men sent to the bank for the kegs of gold which are stored in the captain’s cabin, and just before her sailing hour I deserted and went to the ren- dezvous as rapidly as possible. ‘You know that we have chased her from the day after she left Havana; but she has held her own wondsously well, and rigged with more canvas would make the very craft I want, for the Winged Witch is getting too full of holes to last us much longer, especial- ly if we are to be hunted so close by cruisers.” “The brig is a flyer, sir, and can stand heavier spars, as you say; but you run a ter- rible risk in going in to cut her out,” said the pirate Lieutenant Duval. ‘*Our lives are full of risks, Duval, and this one will be no greater than many [ have run; but I have a private matter iar a to this port, and intended landing anyhow, and now that the brig has eluded me 1 shall certainly go in with my vessel.” ‘But not in her present trim, Captain Morte?” ‘‘Oh, no; I shall disguise her, and you may now set the crew to stowing the guns away.” The lieutenant gave a few orders, a derrick was rigged of two spars over the forward hatchway, and one by one the guns were lowered into the hold, while the vessel lay quietly at anchor just in sight of the distant Next the crew removed every evidence of an armed vessel, and just as the sun set and shut out the land from view, the huge lateen- spars were lowered from the short masts and top-masts of considerable hight were stepped, fore and aft schooner. The tops of the high bulwarks were then taken off, reducing the hight a foot or more, and the upward rake of the bows and stern were removed, so that the vessel presented the appearance of an ordinary coaster, ex- cephing that her hull was certainly a very beautiful and saucy model. As soon as darkness began to fall, sail was set upon the pirate craft, and under a fair ‘The Helen Hayward, eh? Well, this is breeze she was headed for the port some | strange, and doubtless an omen of good leagues away. | luck.” $ she sped along, all but eight of the’ Going to the side of the helmsman, Cap- eee eee ETE augh, while he murmured: irate sprung to the deck again with a light tain Morte gave him a few orders how to steer, as though he was familiar with the channel, and, to the hail of a man in a small smack passing near, whether he wanted a pilot in to an anchorage, called back: ‘No, thank you, for we have one on board.” When the schooner reached the harbor the chief took the helm himself and ran up to an anchorage not twenty fathoms from where the brig he had chased in lay quietly upon the waters. “Lower away a boat for me,” he said, quietly, as the anchor was let fall. The boat, with two oarsmen, was soon alongside, and taking his seat in the stern, Captain Morte tected straight to the brig. A mate leaned over the bulwarks, half- asleep, and hailed the boat as the splash of the oars awakened him. ‘Ay, ay, sir; but is this the brig the West Indian pirate ran into port this after- noon?” ‘Tt is the very craft.” ‘“ We were also chased in by him and bare- | ly escaped a’s it was.” “Well, I hope you'll have the satisfac- tion of seeing the pirates strung up to-mor- row, for a race-horse craft has gone after her.”’ ‘“We met her as we came in; but did she | take crew enough?” ‘‘ Yes, for she drew on all the vessels in port for a man or two, and our captain went with all but four of his crew.” ‘‘T hope they'll catch him; but I’ve got to row on shore, and when I come back would be glad to have you go on board of my schooner and drink to the success of the barque’s cruise, ‘*T’ve got some mighty geod rum aboard.” “Oh, Vll go with pleasure, and thank you; but how long before you come back?” and the man spoke with a zest that showed that rum had its attractions for him. ‘‘T cannot tell exactly; but Ill return as soon as I can,” and the boat went on its way toward the shore, Landing at a deserted pier, the pirate cap- tain bade his men await him there, and has- tily went on his way up into the town. A short walk orought him to a tavern, and as he stepped into the light tap-room, it could be seen that his face was concealed by a dark beard, while he wore on his head a slouch hat that shaded his eyes. Behind the bar stood a stout, ned-faced man, serving drinks to his patrons, to whom a pretty waitress was handing them. ‘‘Good-evening, shipmate; be seated, for there is a table all toyourself, and name your drink. ‘Will it be rum, gin, ora mug of ale?” said the host to the new-comer. ‘It will be a bottle of your best wine, served in your private parlor, and I will drink it with you, Captain Tom Bowline,” was the low response of the pirate, as he lean- ed upon the bar and turned his dark eyes full in the face of the man he addressed. The tavern-keeper started, glanced into the eyes of the pirate, and answered in an earnest tone: “If my ears don’t deceive me, that voice belongs to one who left this town three years ago with a gallows around his neck.” “Correct, Captain Tom, I am that one, so leave your carousers to your pretty bar-maid to serve, and let us have that bottle of wine,” and Captain Morte walked on to a small door and entering it disappeared from view, while a moment after the innkeeper followed him with a strange look upon his face. CHAPTER V. THE OUTLAW LOVER. ‘WELL, well! who ever expected to see you again in this town, Master Rupert?” cried the keeper of the Messmates’ Anchorage Inn, as he entered the little private parlor, where his visitor had preceded him, and placed a bottle and glasses upon the table be- fore him, ‘‘Did I not tell you I would come back, Tom?” ‘©Yes, but I—” ‘*'Yes, but you believed that I would not and that you would never see the five hun- dred dollars you spent on me to save me from the gallows, and just put it down asa debt paid to me for saving your life one night.”’ eGcomicbooks