Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 369 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

a I to = rs voce ting ae, © Tg se fee , oS ° ———— + ] ~ -_— @ Opie: os — ~ —_ wi), e. 22 **Who knows?” softly said Madge. ‘* You see the diary begins with his earliest recollections of dearold Brandon Hall, the day he learned to ride, the day he learned to | and all else you leave in my care.” swim, and when he first mastered the alpha- bet—all are down. “Then come his later boyhood years, when he had killed his first game with a rifle, and gone out in a storm in charge of a boat, with the date that he went to the village school. ‘* Your name is here, Madge, and he speaks of the time he saved your life, and when in turn you saved his. ‘*He speaks of how near death he came, when that bad young man, Darke Darrell, tried to kill him. “Then begin his days at sea, and his life aboard ship is minutely told. ‘‘Then his cruises, his returning home, and his again meeting you, he writes of. ‘‘Next his going away on his last cruise, the one that has ended so fatally, and—’’ ‘* Joyce!” suddenly cried Madge, earnestly. ‘* Yes, Madge.” “You have looked all through that jour- nal?” ce Yes.”’ ‘‘Then turn to the story he tells of his duel with the lieutenant he killed.” Joyce looked over the leaves and read aloud: “‘To-day the cup of my bitterness was filled to overflowing, for, after standing the persecutions of Lieutenant —— until patience ceased to be a virtue, I resented his conduct and have sent him a chal- lenge. He is my superior in rank, it is true; but I could stand no more, and, the pet of our captain, he has turned him too against me, and my life has been made one of utter wretchedness. ** But the die is cast, the challenge has been sent, and what will be tie end?”’ Here there was a break of two days, and then Joyce read aloud: ‘“‘The end has come, and yet not the end, for I am under arrest in my state-room, and threatened with being dismissed in disgrace. ‘* Yesterday 1 met Lieutenant —— in a duel. “He accepted my challenge and chose swords, and I disarmed him and gave him his life. ‘* He was enraged beyond reason and demanded a second meeting with pistols, and I granted it. “We fired together at the word, and fe fell dead. ** Alas! | have rid myself of my bitter persecutor, but I have ended my career of usefulness in the navy, for my captain means to visit upon me the direst punishment he can inflict. ‘“*Well, my dreams of ambition have had their awaking, and end ina nightmare. *“*So be it, I await my fate.” Again there was a skip of dates, and once more Joyce read aloud: ‘* My doom has come, the ax has fallen, andI am disgraced by dismissal. “To-day bade my brother officers a last fare- we “ Strange that my captain, he who has persecuted me for the lieutenant’s sake, and now hates me as his slayer, should have come ashore in the same boat with me. “Ts this a foreboding that he will yet dog my steps through life with his hatred? “Strange too, that my last act as an officer was to order a man triced up and flogged. ‘* He swore revenge openly to my face; but will he mak toy oath, I wonder? ‘But he was a bad fellow, a desperate hound, and - Coxswain Ned Bronson, you got your just deserts in that flogging.”’ Another skip of dates followed, and then came: ‘*T met Captain —— at the same inn where I am stopping in New York, and he scowled savagely*at me. ‘*He isin my debt heavily for gambling dues, as was Lieutenant —— and the idea now occurs that that is the reason of their persecution, for they treated me well enough before they owed me. ‘Tt may be that he bas come here to get money, which I heard he expected, and will pay me. ** So be it, [ shall not refuse what is my due. ** 4 letter received to-day from my messmate Dick Noble, dear old fellow, tells me that Coxswain Ned Bronson has deserted the ship, and bids me lok out for him, as he is a dangerous fellow to run across after my punishment of him. “He says they traced him to a vessel sailing for New York, so I will keep my eyes open for a sight of his ugly figurehead.” Another entry was the last in the book, and it read simply: *“T shall start home within an hour; will I be wel- come there, with the brand of disgrace upon me? “Who knows?” As Joyce read the last words she turned to Madge and asked quickly: ‘Why, Madge! what ails you?” ** Nothing.” ‘You look 111.” ‘‘Tt is nothing; I was merely thinking, that is all, and the blood rushed to my head; but I am all right now, and I would like to ask you to lend me that book.” ‘‘Why, certainly, Madge, for I meant to —_——_ — | The Coast Corsair. ee eee —— ask you to keep it with the other things of ‘When does your captain expect to sail?” poor Noel’s.” ' * Ags soon as he can, miss.”’ ‘Well, I will go ashore and report your arrival at the Hall, and pilot you to sea again when you are ready to go out.” ‘‘ Yes, miss, but the captain told me to ask you your fee, and to say he had some one coming aboard to pilot the schooner out,” ‘There are but two persons on this coast, that can run this schooner from this anchor- age to open water. ‘‘One is my father, the other is myself; so that I shall go anyhow, as I wish to see my friend Miss Brandon past all danger.”’ Mate Talbot was squelched. His instructions had gone no further, so | he Ba: ‘ ‘* What is your fee, miss?’ CHAPTER XXXII. | “Nothing.” THE DEPARTURE. | Wait, miss, until I see the captain, WHEN Madcap Madge sprung on board | please,” and Talbot ran below for instruc- the Moonbeam, Mate Talbot was completely | tions. taken aback. ' In a few words he reported the situation She was more beautiful in his eyes than a up on deck. picture, and his heart began to throb au- ‘‘Ourse her! she'll have her way, so I’ve ‘*T will take good care of it, I assure you, ‘‘T know that, Madge; but now I must re- turn, or my parents will be anxious about me; but I will see you again before I go.” ‘“Oh, yes, for I would not be surprised if I had to *pilot the vessel up to the Hall haven, as father is away, and there is no one else to do it.” ‘‘] hope you wil), Madge; but is your father not away a great deal of late?” ‘“ Yes, he seems constantly upon the go,” and Madge changed the subject quickly, while Joyce soon after mounted her horse and rode back to Brandon Hall. —— ee dibly. got nothing to do but to hide here in my ‘You a pilot?” he asked in an embarrassed | state-room until the craft is again at sea. way. | ‘Hand her these letters from old Bentley, “ Yes, sir; are you the captain?” was the tell her I am laid up from an_ accident, terse sep: and ask her to give them to the doctor ‘‘No, Lam the mate; the captain’s abed | with regrets from me that I cannot get out. sick—I mean hurt; he got hurt, miss, and | ‘‘ Then see that we get out of this as soon can’t see you, though I know he’d like to; as possible. but I'll do as well, won’t 1?” | “That girl is the devil,” and with this “Oh, yes, if you know where you are | A of the aay who had won his heart, going?” ate Talbot left the cabin in a huff. “Yes, miss, 1 know; we want to goto! Madge took the letters, her skiff, which Brandon Hall barbor.” had been towing astérn, was brought along- ‘* Ah! this is the schooner—” _side, and she rowed shoreward, and walked ‘The schooner Moonbeam, miss, sent after | rapidly up to Brandon Hall. Doctor Brandon and his family.” | Joyce was walking up and down the “They have been expecting the vessel for | piazza, for she had seen the schooner’s lights several days.” _as she came in, and sprung to meet her, ‘Yes, miss, we did not get her fitted out | ‘‘Ah, Madge, it is you, and I am so glad as soon as we expected; but we are here | to see you!”’ now.” | ‘“Yes, I acted as pilot, Joyce, and will see ‘So I see,” was the dry reply, and Madge | you safe out to sea when you sail. but the stepped to the wheel. schooner’s captain is laid up from an acci- Then, in a clear voice that rung throughout | dent, and sent your father these letters.” the ship, she ordered the topsails down, the ‘“T will give them to him, and ycu will be foresail lowered, and the mainsail and jib | my guest to-night.” alone set, saying: Joyce entered the house and handed her father the letters, telling him that the schoon- er had come, and the circumstance of Mad- cap Madge acting as pilot. “ Well, we are in no danger with that girl at the wheel, that is certain. ‘* Where is she?” ‘On the piazza, and I have asked her to be my guest to-night.” ‘She will work better, sir, in this breeze with little sail, and [| want your crew to stand by to obey orders promptly, for we are going into dangerous waters.” ‘They look it, miss; but don’t you think dark will overtake us?” ‘What if it should?” ‘‘Could you see to run these waters in the dark?” and ‘Talbot gazed ahead at the ‘‘Well, I suppose you could do nothing dangerous course they had to sail over, else; but to-morrow night we get away, and ‘“Yes, with my eyes shut,” was the terse | then this strange friendship for a smugeler’s reply, and the mate regarded Madcap Madge daughter ends.” as a being not of earth. | Joyce was about to make an angry reply, At her orders, the crew sprung lively, for | but said nothing, and left the room, and led they saw that the Girl Pilot knew just what | Madge to her own apartments. she was about, and they obeyed without; Then, until late into the night the two sat question. | talking together; but the ay morning As for Talbot, he had fallen in love, but | found them up and packing, and looking out had he known how quickly Madge had diag- | of the window they saw that the servants nosed him, he would not have felt flattered. | were already carting the luggage down to the ‘*1 do not like the mate, or the crew. schooner. ‘“ He is sinister looking, and is a bad man, | At breakfast Madge met Doctor Brandon wiih he may be embarrassed before me. | and his wife, and they bowed coldly to her | | ‘As for the men, they are a villainous- | and the meal was eaten almost in silence, looking set, and the other man | saw on deck During the day the old mansion was lock- was strangely like that rascal Darke Darrell, | ed up, the shutters were nailed close, the though of course it could not be he, as servants were discharged, and when at last Bentley & Co, would only send a reliable | the family departed for the beach it present- man as commander.” | ed a most forlorn, desolate appearance. ‘Then turning to the mate, she asked: | ‘‘Who was the person on deck with you | been safely stowed on board the ,chooner, whep I came out?” and then Madge stepped to the helm. “The captain, miss.” “You do not think we had better wait un- ‘I thought you said he had been injured | til morning, girl, for this is a dangerous and was lying in the cabin?” | gantlet to run, and the night is very dark?” Talbot saw that he had made a mistake, so | said Doctor Brandon anxiously. he stammered out of it with: | ‘*No, sir, itis best to go out to night, for “Yes, miss, but he’s able to walk; but the weather is threatening, and, as you suffered so much he went below soon as we | know, Doctor Brandon, this harbor is only had found a pilot.” safe in storms from landward.” “Tsee! What is your captain’s name?” | ‘‘ Yes; do as you deem best; but Ill go ‘* Kennard, miss,” and see the captain, for I don’t like that ‘‘ He was sent by Bentley & Co.?” mate’s looks,” and Doctor Brandon went be- ‘* Yes, miss.” low, while the schooner swung loose from ‘‘T ouess I was mistaken, and that it’s all | her anchorage, and headed through the dan- right,’ muttered Madge, and she said no ' gerous gantlet. , more, unless to give an order, until they ran In a short while the doctor returned. ' into the little harbor. ‘*Did you see the captain, father?” Then she asked: | ‘* Yes, and I do not like his looks any bet- EGoOmic cS It was sunset before all the things had IOO con