Beadle's Dime Library No. 364 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

2 ‘~<———— e————————— between Boston and the towns on the Kennebec, and his point of es) The was a village upon that romantic river, which has been the theater of so many scenes of daring in the days of our early history, and the home of as hardy and bold a set of seamen as ever furled a sail or fought a foe. It was just before sunset, and as the little schooner had not been expected until the next morning, having made an exceptionally good ’ run, there were not the usual number of persons ‘ upon the little pier, just below the town, when she arrived. Ont of these was the one to whom the young sailor spoke the words that open this story, and she had just sprung ashore from a small skiff in which she had run up the river ahead of the schooner, and her management of the little sail- boat, in its race with the large vessel the past few miles, had won for her the admiration of those upon the deck of the packet. She was a young girl of seventeen, with a form the perfection of womanly symmetry and grace, and the easy movement and pose of one who pomnemned a strength and endurance not looked or in one of her years and sex. She was dressed in a close-fitting bodice, a skirt that was a trifle short, displaying a pair of tiny feet clad in stout shoes, and upon her head was a sailor’s tarpaulin that gave her a jaunty air. Her eyes were large, dark blue, fringed with long lashes, and her haira sunny hue of brown that was golden in the sunlight, and hung in a ‘waving mass adown her back, reaching far be- low her waist. FLEE 2 Her face was one to win admiration from the most casuai observer, for it was beautiful, ten- der in expression, yet as fearless and resolute as though she had been of the sterner sex. She had tied the painter of her little boat about a post, to make it fast, lowered her sail, and taking a gt basket on her arm, was starting toward the village, when the packet schooner ran alongside the dock and the youn sailor sprung out, raising his cap politely, an saluted for. Her face flushed, and she hesitated an instant, then held forth her hand frankly, while she said: “J have not forgotten you, Midshipman Bran- don, nor that twice you saved my life, and if a word of verre poe ge me affords you leasure gladly do I give it.” 5 He took her hand, bent his head gracefully, and would have imprinted a kiss thereon, but she quickly withdrew it, and, while her face be- came crimson, bowed and walked on toward the i . the sailor looking after her with an ex- pression of sorrow in his face. ‘““Who is she, shipmate?”’ asked a man dressed in seaman’s attire stepping toward him, and having just come ashore from the schooner. ‘“ She is one that such as you can never know. “She is a pure, innocent girl, whose life I twice saved years ago, and one whose friend- ship I am unworthy to claim,” was the bitter re- sponse, and turning on his heel the young sailor went to the side of the schooner to look after his luggage, which two hands were putting ashore. ‘You carry a large cargo, shipmate,” said the man who before en to pos tio the ae trunks, bales and bundles being taken from the schooner, “Yes, they are souvenirs I have picked up in tf hea dine? there is a cartman whom I can hire,” and the sailor called to a man, who just then drove up with a light wagon. ** Ho, Saunders, I have a job for you.” __ “Ah, Midshipman Brandon, or rather Lieu- tenant, you are now, I am glad to see you back home,” said the man, coming toward him. “No, Saunders, it is not lieutenant, though such was my last rank, or middy either, for I am no longer in the service,” and the young man spoke with a bitterness of tone that was marked, “ No longer an — of the navy, sir?” said the man in a surprised manner. ‘‘ No, and as it will doubtless be village gossip soon, I may as well tell you, that I had m shoulder-straps torn off, and was dismissed, while I barely escaped acquaintance with the yard-arm, and all because killed a brute of a superior officer for insulting me. ‘I was drinking, Saunders, my _ life-long curse I su , and when the wine is in the wit is out, so 1 resented the treatment I received and hore I am, bag and baggage, no longer a shining light in the service of my country. ‘ But tell me, have you heard from my peo- f ple at Brandon Hall, of late?” ‘Your father drove through the village a week or so ago, sir: but I am sorry to hear of our ill-fortune aboard ship, Master Noel, as I had an idea you’d make a name for yourself some day, although you were a little wild, I do ? not deny. $6 el not speak of that, Saunders; but talk business, for I wish you to drive me and my traps over home.” ; “T cannot go myself, sir, for I have a sick child I dare not leave; but after nightfall, the wagon is at your service, and Silly Sam will drive you over.” ‘That will do, as I can take supper at the tavern, so tell Silly 8am to come for me there, The Sea Fugitive. after he has loaded on my traps, and as it will be late before we get over, I will keep him there all night, that is if the old folks will welcome home a disgraced son,” and with a harsh laugh the young sailor walked on toward the village, half a mile distant, while the schooner, having discharged the quota of freight and passengers for that landing, held on her way up the river. ‘‘ Just who is that young man, shipmate?” asked the seaman who had addressed the sailor, and had, like himself, been a passenger on board the little packet. He addressed Saunders, the village cartman, who answered: ‘‘His name is Noel Brandon, and his folks live some miles from here, where his father is a wealthy farmer: but I’m sorry to know the young man isin bad luck now, as he once did me a favor, and though a trifle wild, he’s not a bad fellow.” ‘‘He gambles heavy, J guess,” continued the man. ‘*‘ Maybe, but that I don’t know about,” an- swered Saunders, ‘*T do, for [saw him win a cool ten thousand at cards the other night in Boston,” ‘** Ten thousand? hy that’s a fortune,” cried Saunders. ‘*Tt is indeed; but he took it as cool as if it was only a hundred; but where can I get a boat to hire here, for I have come up on business to see the widow Darrell, who lives on the other shore, a mile below here.” ‘*Yes, she lives round the bend; but why didn’t you get the skipper of the schooner to land you there?” ‘‘ Ho was ina hurry to get on, and I thonght if ’'d get a boat here, I could come back to the tavern in the village to-night, to wait for the next packet down.” ** You can hire a boat from that man coming there,” and Saunders pointed to an old boatman then approaching the dock. The seaman eS age the old boatman, dick- ered with him awhile for a boat, and then spring- ing into it went at a swift pace down the river, holding over toward the other shore. After rounding the bend a small frame house came}into view, and ceasing to row he rested upon his oars, gazing at the place with a strange look upon his face. ‘* And that was my home in the long ago! ‘“ Ay, it would be now, were I to go there, for a mother never casts a son off be he what he may. or Twelve years ago I left that home because I thought I had killed the very one whose track I am now on. ‘* Twelve years have changed him from the boy of thirteen, to the handsome, dashing young officer, and those years have changed me from the youth of seventeen into the man of thirty, and this long beard and gray hair make me look much older, and no one would know me now, ‘Why, I talked to Noel Brandon time and time again on our run up here, and he knew me not, nor did Saunders and old boatman Brail recog- nize me, for I was a beardless boy then, and m whitening hair and beard make me look so dif- ferent that I doubt if even my mother will know me. ** That old home is where I was born, and yon- der I see the cows wending their way homeward, as they did long years ago. “They are not the same cattle, I know, but they look the same, and the old place is little mac, ae ‘The trees have grown larger, but all else is unchanged. ‘““Yonder is the rock from which I used to spring into the river, fora swim in the warm summer days, and back yonder in the hills I hunted for game. ‘‘ Ah me! those olden times are forever gone, and now, @ sin-stained man I come back to the scene of my sinless boyhood. ‘‘ And do I come repentant, to fall at my mo- ther’s feet and beg forgiveness? ‘Ah nol! I come for revenge and for gold,” His voice had softened at first, as he spoke of the past; but now it broke forth in uttering the last words, in almost savage intensity. _ A moment he was silent, resting upon his oars, as his boat drifted with the current, and then he said aloud: ‘‘ Noel Brandon, I have not forgotten our schoolboy days together, and how you, years my eae humbled me before all by your superior owledge. ‘‘T have not forgotten that one day, when I sought to thrash Silly Sam, whoran off” ay , that you dealt me a blow that well-nig cost me my life. ‘**One day we met, you mounted on your pony returning home from the village, I wandering along the river-bank with my rifle. ‘The devil tempted me then, and I turned and fired upon you. ‘** But I heard a loud cry, as i pony bound- ed away, leaving you lying in the roadway dead, as I believed, and I saw Silly Sam coming along the river path. ‘* He saw me, had seen my act, and in turn I fled, swimming the river to my home, and my mother gave me all the money she had, and mounting our old cart-horse, I made my escape. ee *‘Those scenes come before me to-day, ag though they were but yesterday. ** And since then? “ Ah, what have I not passed through in the years that have gone by! ‘* And now I am home again, but not to see my mother, but because I met Noel Brandon in Boston, saw him win a large sum at the gam- eae able, and determined totake it from him. ** My plot to rob him has thus far worked well, and now I will see if my shipmates have carried out the plan I laid for them to follow, ** Ah! there is my mother standing in the door, and she is gazing at me. ‘* But little she dreams that this boat holds her wandering sailor son. ‘Oh, God! to gaze upon that dear face almost tempts me to repent of the past and be content to throw myself at her feet, there to live the re- maining years of my life. ‘*But no! [ must not be tempted to yield to the good, for my life can be one only of sin,” and seizing the oars he sent the boat spinning rapidly down the river, while the setting sun cast its rays upon the Jittle cottage, and fell upon the form of a gray-haired woman standing in the door, gazing out upon the river, and with her eyes resting upon the sailor, no thought in her heart that she was looking upon her wayward, wandering boy, whose evil life and long ab- pee had caused her so many bitter heart- aches. CHAPTER II. WAYLAID. AFTER the man in the skiff, Darke Darrell, had rounded a bend in the river, he beheld, creeping close in toward the other shore, and under shortened sail, a small sloop. ‘* Ah! there is the sloop, and now Noel Bran- don, your gold and your ‘booty are mine,” said the man, the Ose son, who had returned to the scenes of his boyhood, not repentant of his sins, but to rob, peuhere to kill one who had been his companion in the bygone. Seizing his oars, as he sighted the sloop, for he had aes drifting on the current, he sent his boat rapidly toward the little craft. The shadows of night were darkening the waters, as he drew near the sloop, which now had glided into a little cove, and rounding to had dropped anchor, though still having her mainsail set. ‘*Ho, Jenks, you are here and just on time,” cried Darrell, as he ran his skiff alongside the sloop, addressing one of the men who stood on the deck, ‘* Yes, Cap’n Darke, we followed in the wake of the packet as rapid as we could, and here we are,” answered the man addr as Jenks, ‘“ Well, you and Toddy Tom have earned the gold I intend to pay you, or rather you will do so soon, for in a couple of hours the man who carries it will be along here.” ‘* Where?” ‘“* The highway runs along the river-bank, oo oa length from here, and we'll waylay him ere. ““T'm ready,” said Jenks. “And me too,” remarked Toddy Tom, who had the appearance of a man who kept about half-drunk all the time. In fact he said he was afraid to get perfectly sober as his conscience was then troublesome. But he had his wits about him, and was as thoroughly a villain as was Jenks, and that was he a great deal, arke Darrell however knew his men, and having seen Noel Brandon gambling in Boston heard his name, and recognizing him as his old boyhood enemy, he determined to avenge him- self and gain gold at the same time, so had tracked his intended victim, laid his plans and set sail with him on the Kennebec et, leav- ing his hireli to follow and take advantage = any circum ce that might turn up in their or, He knew that Noel Brandon had not only the large sum of money he had seen him win, but other wee which had doubtless been paid him aboar ship, as prize-money, and he was confi- dent that the baggage and bales he carried, were valuable booty. - ‘Tt will be a rich haul for me, and I can buy and fit out a schooner with it for a free life up- on the seas, and then I'll soon make a fortune,” he muttered, as he rowed ashore with his two Bedehing, tlie: Baiik, iiarboe ching the , the twas placed with the stern against the shore, and the, oars in the rowlocks, so that she could be rowed away without an instant of delay. The sloop had been left with her anchor down, but the cable was_ ready to slip, the mainsail up and the jib could be run up in a second. Before landing, Darke Darrell, who recalled every foot of fo oe led the way up into the forest, where the road crossed a narrow bridge, spanning a rivulet. A hig cliff, fringed with scrub pines over- hung the road here, and no better place for a dark deed of deviltry could be found than this spot. ‘* Shipmates, the village lies yonder, and the wagon will pass here, drawing up for the bridge, and rivht-here js our stand. JOOKS Ee GOmMIic SS} (0)