Beadle's Dime Library No. 364 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

| i] j | it | a man-of-war, rather than of a coaster, and his NE eee ‘Yes, within a couple of days.” ‘Then you can take Mr. Brandon to some port.” ‘* Yes, wherever he would like to go.” ‘‘ Then that is settled, and I feel better over it.” “Madge, what is this man to you?” and the skipper looked fixedly into the face of his daugh- er. ‘Father, he saved my life, as you know, and I wish to repay the debt,” and her face did not change color, though she saw by her father’s look and manner that he held a suspicion that she cared for Noel Brandon. But her manner reassured him, as he said: ‘* Well, Madge, I do not wish you to lose your heart, especially to one who is a fugitive from the law, for a crime he is accused of commit- ting. iF Some day you will meet a noble man, one worthy of you, and you can become his wife.” ‘Father, [do not wish to marry, and I am too young to think of such things. ‘* But here comes Phillis!” As she spoke, old Phillis appeared, her face all smiles, ‘‘ Lordy, massa, I is awful glad ter see yer back again, fer we was anxious about yer, as ye stayed so long. ** Yer hain’t looking jist right neither, fer yer looks pale. ‘Does yer feel pale, massa?” ‘T feel so hungry, Phillis, you'll turn pale to see me eat. ‘“‘Ts breakfast ready?” **'Yas, massa, and I has br’iled bird, hoe-cakes, coffee, milk, muffins and fish fer yer, sah.” ‘A’ rood breakfast indeed, Phillis, and I'll do ample justice to your good cooking, which I sad- ly miss when [am away from home. ‘*T’}] have to take you as cook on the Blue Bell.” ** No, sah! Til cook on shore, but no more salt water sailin’ for dis old nigger. ‘**T hain’t fergot our comin’ here, sah, and if I oes from here I walks, I does,” and Phillis led the way into the cosey little breakfast-room, where the skipper did indeed do full justice to the meal before him, while Madge also ate with that relish that comes of a hearty appetite which perfect health and a clear conscience gives one. After “_reakfast Madge took a nap of a few hours, and arose refreshed, just as some one dashed wp to the cottage on horseback. It was Joyce Brandon, and dismounting, she entered the cottage as Madge called out to her to do. The aristocratic maiden seemed surprised at the air of refinement and appearance of almost luxury about the place, ‘Whose is that little work of art, Madge?” she asked, pointing to a pretty marine paint- ng. ** That is mine.” “Do you mean that you are the artist?” *“*T am the pant put I do not claim to be an artist; and I painted it as a companion piece to that one of my father’s,” pointing to an- other painting. ‘“Your father painted that?” “cc Yes.” ‘‘ Then he, too, is an artist?” ‘Father is a genius, I think, for he paints, is a fine musician, sings well, and is certainly a fine sailor.” *« And he is content to be a skipper on a small sloop, while you, competent to shine in any so- ciety, hide yourself away here on this desolate coast.” ‘We are happy; and besides, father is not a rich man, though he once was, I believe; but have you met him?” “ 0.” ‘‘ Here he comes, and I would like to present him to you.” ‘* With pleasure,” and the beauty and heiress turned a curious look upon the skipper as he ap- proached, carrying a pair of oars upon his shoulder. . The tall, erect form, superb carriage, and stern, refined face of the man surprised her. His dress, too, smacked of the quarter-deck of face was stern but handsome withal, and at- tractive, He did not look by daylight as old as he had in the glare of the cabin lamp. These, then, were the people whom Joyce Drandon had been taught to regard as of the common herd. Seeing Joyce, Captain Brandon doffed his cap and bent low, as Madge said: ‘* Miss Brandon, permit me to present to you my father, Skipper Vernon, of the sloop blue Bell.” Joyce held out her hand, and said frankly: rs Y am glad to meet you, Captain Vernon, and I surely wish I had known your lovely daughter long ago, for we have become fast friends.’ ‘“It gives me pleasure to meet you, Miss Bran- don and to hear you speak well of my daughter; but she deserves all that can be said in her praise, ae ‘* Will you not dismount and join us at our dinner, for I assure you we have an excellent 8.898) 81.3888 a3 The Sea Fugitive. disgrace your father’s table?” ‘Yes, do stay, Joyce,” urged Madge, and with courtly grace Captain Vernon offered his arm to the fair visitor and led the way into the dining-room. ‘“Golly! dis here seems like old times, Phil, and I does hopes our folkses is gwine ter git inter society,” said Phillis, as she bustled around in serving the table. ** Yes, old gal, I hopes they’ll git back inter society and ther church, fer we is gitting ter be heathen folkses sart’in,” averred Philip, drain- ing a Burgundy bottle which Philiis had just re- moved from the table. That Joyce never enjoyed a meal more in her life, she frankly confessed, and as Captain Ver- non returned to his sloop, Madge came in from the kitchen with a large basket of edibles and beckoned to her guest to come. ** Where?” **Do you not wish to see your brother?” “Oh! if I only could.” ** You can, for he removed in safety last night from where he was concealed, and is now but a eehe from here, and where no one could find im. ‘* And you are going there?” “Yes, for I wish to take him these provisions and see if he needs aught else, so come with me, for we'll take my skiff and soon row there,” and an hour after the skiff went slowly into the Mystic Cove, to the great amazement of Joyce Brandon. ; CHAPTER XX. BROTHEK AND SISTER. JOYCE BRANDON, the proud, aristocratic beauty, seemed to feel a kind of awe for Madcap Madge, the skipper’s daughter, for she did things that few men dare do, and withal was as serenely lovely as a society belle. Madge had told ber of the part she had played as Nat, and Joyce wondered how she dared do it, but said: ** You are different from any one I ever knew, Madge, and if I was a man, I would be desper- ately in love with you.” **Circumstances have made me what I am, Joyce, for I have had the Lager hick, boy, as well as the schooling of a girl, and f the time I feel better able to cope with desperate danger than to bear the petty worries that fall to the lot of women. ‘** But here we are in the cove, and you can go on alone to the cavern, and I will follow you soon, with the things I have in the boat. “Be careful, for the footing is not sure on that rock.” Joyce sprung ashore, went through the crevice, and a moment after came out into the well-like space before the cavern. She saw her brother, reclining upon his rude bed, a book in his hand, a cigar between his teeth. ** Brother!” Noel Brandon started, half arose, and turning his head beheld his sister. ** Joyce! my sister! you here?” She sprung forward, dropped upon her knees by his side, and throwing her arms about his neck burst into tears. “Oh Noel, my poor, wretched brother!” she asped. ‘* My dear sister, it was kind of you toseek me here; but tell me, do you believe me guilty of the double crime I am accused of?” ““T do not.” ** Thank God for that—I can rest more content now; but our parents?” ‘““They know not what to think, but hope, and are glad you were not captured.” nt am I, for I have a chance for my life which otherwise I would not have had, and I owe it to that noble girl, Madcap Madge, as they call her in the village.” 3 ‘*You do, and she will aid you to escape, I know, for she is with me now, and will soon be here; but how is your wound, brother?” Painful, Abe improving, and I hope before very long to be able to walk, but row, as it is, I am almost as helpless asan infant; but does father know where I am?” ‘No indeed, for his pride is such, that were ore proof of your guilt brought to him, he would not save you from the gallows if he could do so, and mother would do as he says. ‘*T left the village yesterday, and Madge told me to ride down to her cottage to-day for news, for she thwarted the act of some man who meant to betray you last night.” **'Was the attempt made?” ‘* Madge says that it was, and failed; but she was very reticent upon the subject, and I did not urge her to say more. **T took dinner with the Vernons to-day, Noel, and the captain is a most remarkable man.” “He is indeed, for I met him years ago; but he is a man to fear I think, and rumor that he isa smuggler,” ‘“*T do not believe all I hear, Noel, and he scouted the idea of your being guilty.” ‘‘He was generous toward me; but, wild as I wicked or dishonorable: but some one comes—” “It is Madge!” cook, and I have some Burgundy that would not — have been, men cannot say that I have been the B Lion ““ Nor The next moment Madge came in sight, and greeted Noel Brandon pleasantly, but with a certain restraint, She did not see, or appeared not to do so, his outstretched hand, and busied herself in fixing the things she had brought within easy reach. ‘** Now, Lieutenant Brandon—” “Tam plain mister, Miss Madge, or Noel, at your service.” ‘““ Well, Mr. Brandon, I have a bottle of medi- cine here my father, who understands medicine, prepared for your wound, and I am to dress it for youand then you are to keep the bandages moist with it.” ‘* But, Miss Madge, I can dress the wound.” ‘* There is no need of any nonsense, Mr. Bran- don, for you are my patient, and I have had some experience with wounds. ‘‘ Here, I will dress the wound and your sweet. sister will aid me.” She spoke in a manner that allowed of no re- sistance, and rolling up the leg of his pantaloons, she removed the bandages, carefully bathed the wound, applied fresh wraps, wet with the heal- ing ointment, and then said: ‘ Now you can enjoy the meal I have brought you, and here are several books.” ** And how long is this to last, Miss Vernon, that I am to be a tax upon your kindness of heart?” he asked sadly. ‘* Until you are able to walk, or at least are much better, when my father will take you to any port you may desire to enter.” ‘**| thank you.” ‘**T will owe to you my life, Miss Madge.” ** Wait until you are out of danger; you are not, even here; but; I must be off, and will see you daily, and should I not come, Silly Sam will,” and with a pleasant nod Madcap Madge walked away. Joyce remained a moment longer, and prom- ising to see her brother as soon as she could again, she followed Madge, and the two return- ed in the skiff to the home of the Vernons. There Joyce mounted her horse, after a warm farewell to Madge, and rode rapidly homeward, for already the shadows of approaching ni ht were falling upon the sea and shore, and the maiden cared not to be in the somber forest af- ter dark. CHAPTER XXI, THE PLOTTER. THE widow Darrell wore an anxious heart, when she found how much away from home he was, immediately after his return; but then she saw that he was not touching anything to drink, came home perfectly sober, and he gave as an excuse that he was trying to buy a vessel, and wished to see all that passed into the river, and so she felt relieved. After his failure to capture Noel Brandon, as he had said he would do, Darke Darrell felt considerably cut, for he saw that he was doubt- ed by Lieutenant Maynard. He however set to work to carry out his plot in his own way, for knowing as he really did. that Madcap Madge had carried the wounde sailor to the hut of the hermit, he felt confident that he could not be far away. Going into the village, after parting with the young officer, he had spent his money freely, to et the tongues of the gossips to work, though e drank nothing himself. Recognized by those who had known him years before, and having apparently ica of money, he was warmly welcomed by the hang- ers-on at the inn, and he soon discovered that the feeling was in favor of Noel Brandon. He also found out that Silly Sam was the young aristocrat’s best friend, and was laid up at home with a wound. Madge was also the talk of the village, after her brave act in coming to the rescue; and the girl was discussed in all her wild scrapes, but always in tones of deepest respect. Cass Kennedy, the young constable, strolled into the tap-room and discovered Darke Darrell. He saw that he was a stranger, asked who he was, remembered then many acts of his early life, and determined to keep an eye upon him, as he muttered: “*T have heard that he turned pirate, and he certainly spends his money freely, for no one else is paying the scores of that thirsty crowd of soakers, ‘‘He does not even drink ale, I see; he has some little game to play, for without bein drunk no honest tar would throw away seve months’ pay as he is doing.” From his point of observation he studied the face and form of Darrell until he seemed to have it thoroughly engraved upon his mind, and then he leisurely strolled over and joined the crowd. Darke Darrell’s quick eyes fell upon him, and he saw that the young constable was no ordi- nary man. : ‘*Come, mate, join us in a drink,” he said, has it | wishing to know just who he was, for his face he did not recall as having before seen. “T do not drink, sir, but I thank you,” was the quiet reply, and a hush fell upon the crowd of Pommers, 5 or they all stood in certain awe of officer. oI; but I have just come home, after years of absence, and am spending a few shil-~ Gomichbooks (e