Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 475) (1886 08 31)
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(a Da it i A | lI Vee), Li'f 1 Entered at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., at Second Class Mal! Rates. Vol. XIX, $2.50 a Year. SaaS —— == ———= = ————— SSS ——— ===SSSS==Ss By John S. Warner. CHAPTER I, PREMONITORY TO COMING EVENTS, The sea yawned around her like a hell, And down she sucked with her the whirling wave Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he dies. And first one universal shriek there rushed, Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder; and tven all was hushed, Save the wild wind and the remorseless clash Of billows.—Byron. ‘*May God have mercy on us! The vessel will not float one-half hour longer, and our boats are all stove.”’ The last vestige of hope has fled. The dark-wing- ed presence of death was hovering over that doomed vessel, as her captain uttered the words which seemed wrung from his heart. They were addressed to a young girl, inthe prime of early womanhood, who stood shivering with fear by his side. Her sweet face was overshadowed with the fearful peril PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS, ce ee ttt Natalalalatal, N \ CCM WL Ws Toa Tot nt a at at at on a al Copyright, 1886, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, Aca aa at ha NS August 31, 1886, -"§ — — ' No. 475. Price, 5 Cents. No, 98 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. es - ~ " —! ' AX . Ww THE BLACK SHIP,
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2 of the moment, and her beauty was enhanced by the abundant tresses which had burst from their confinement, and now streamed in petty disorder around her face. The angry waters of the ocean roared and seethed arcund—their summits wreathed in foam, their spray rising and striking the face with stinging violence as they jostled and smote against each other. The heavens were overspread with a rayless gloom, and the vast gray clouds rolled, volume after volume, out from the depths of their boundless home, The wind blew with terrific violence, now sobbin a shrill voice throug of air were contending, with horrid shrieks, for the maste The masts creaked and groaned, their spear-like tops whipping and swaying against the | inky sky. threatening to go by the board at any mo- ment. The vessel groaned and strained heavily at every fresh sea that struck and threatened to ingulf her, while the pumps, although kept constantly at work by the frenzied exertions of the men, showed plainly the rapid increase of the water. A few short weeks previous, a merry party were gathered at the aristocratic mansion of a wealthy gentleman in England, It was on the occasion of the departure for America of Mr. Snowden, in com- pany with his sister, Mrs. Bryce, and Ler daughter, Clara, Little did they then think, when the cheer- ful faces and merry voices of friends wished them a safe and pleasant voyage, of the fearful perils which 50 soon would encompass them! “ Have we no hope left—no chance of life to which we can cling?’”’ asked Clara, in tones that went to the captain's heart. ‘**N ne, young lady. I have done all that lays within the power of mortal man, but all in vain. \ve will soon meet again before our Maker,” was his sad response. **Oh. is our end so near—is death so inevitable?” She dropped her head upon her breast a moment, then raising it, glanced upward, while her lips moved in silent prayer, and her hands, meekly fold- ed upon ber breast, gave her the semblance of one of those saint-like a * paamedin we ascribe to the be- ings of another world. The captain had, in the mean time, motioned his first officer to him and given some order, which the mate hastened to perform. “T have just ordered Mr. Grey to fire our gun asa signal of distress,’’ he said, again addressing Clara; “but it seems almost useless, for I doubt if the gun can be heard avy great distance from the ship.” ‘The report cf a cannon penetrates further than we would believe, and it may attract the notice of some vessel that may chance to be near,” she re- plied, a slight shade of hope lighting somewhat the gloom of her countenance. “Thope it may. As you say, a vessel may be near; but from the manner in which the sea is agi- tated, de ‘ubtless would pass us unnoticed. Oh, there ii gos,’ ; A bright flash leaped from the muzzle, and the 1 ud report boomed over the waters, of ‘‘ the minute- gun at sea.” At a distance of not more than two miles from where they floated, lay a British man-of-war, which had not noticed the proximity of the merchant- vessel on account of the reughness of the sea. The attention all were obliged to give to the safety of their own ship, also, had rendered the officers unob- servant, She was a stanch craft, and, unlike the merchantman, was underas much canvas as pru- dence and her successful management would ina mit. If was evident her commander was a prudent man, for the gale had not caught him “on the wrong tack.’ He was standing aft, surrounded by officers, narrowly watching sea and ship and at times issuing such orders as experience told him were best. Lieutenant Harold Merton—for so he was named—-was a young man of commanding ap- pearance. His face wore that frank expressi n so leasing to contemplate, but his thoughtful eye ashed with an occasional glance which betrayed a uick but generous temper. He was scarce twenty- ae years of age, yet, by his untiring exertions, and in the su ulaccomplishment of numerous duties that had been assigned him, he had risen quickly in favorand station. — “4 rough day, this, Mr. Merton, for a vessel to be ‘ht unprepared,’ remarked one of his com- o) ns. “Tt is, sir and many a one, I fear, will seek the depths of ocean before the wind lulls. I pity poor Jack, with his few inches of wood between him and eternity,” replied the lieutenant, without once look- ing at the i, erin addressed, Lut prudently fixing his gaze either on the vessel or to windward, * You speak, sir, as if we were not tied up in the same bundle.” **Our situation is one of comparative safety to'that of many others who are out at this moment, But the wind freshens, I think. See that an extra reef vis —— that foretopsail, and in wi h the mizzen- to ’ ‘A hard time for reefing, sir, but it shall be done;” and he hastened to have the order executed, The order had been obeyed, and the privileged few again were assembled within the sacred confines of the quarter-deck, ; ; “It is singular that we have not passed a ship or vessel of any kind to-day, lying as we do, in their direct course to and from the American ports,” was at length remarked. . ‘“We have, without doubt,” replied the com- mander; * but we would be o to almost run them down before we could see them.” . At this moment the faint booming of the cannon | met their ears. **Hush! did you hear that?” Me “did. Did you mark the direction?” and sighing, or whistling with | the rigging, as if the demons | t | ‘her The Black Ship. “No, sir, but we may hear it again.” “True, for I suspect it to be the minute-gun of some ship in distress. Ha! there it is again!’ “From the north and westward of us, sir, and some distance off.” “‘We will be sure by waiting once again for the sound.” ‘* Your intention is to go to their relief?” ‘* Most certainly I shall, if I can work up to them.” “It will be a difficult, and perhaps a dangerous undertaking.” “And yet I shall attempt it, were the shadow of death to stand in my way. Do you think it becom- ing the dignity of an officer of his Majesty’s ser- vies, even to entertain the thought of leaving a suffering fellow-being. when bis ¢fforts might snatch him from a watery grave? Dut this is no time for words,” be added, as the distant report again came wafted to them on the wind. ** Get your vessel ready for stays. against this heavy sea.” The wind now was b‘owing a terrific gale, and the relative positions of the two vessels were entirely | different. The merchantman was drifting before the wind, and not a sail set, her bo sane badly eprung, and her main and mizzen-mast threatening to go over at any moment. , he was, in fact, ina hopeless condition. The ve-sel-of-war had her head pointed into the very jaws of the wind, and althongh very little onward progress was made, she yet was enabled to hold her own, and to successfully battle against the wall of waters that essayed to check her progress. When the first report of the gun had reached the lieutenant’s ear, it came from the north- west, but, as each succeeding discharge grew fainter, it convinced him that they who fired it were passing to the cast.» With great difficulty and nice seamanship, the head of the vessel wes brought on the other tack, and swiftly sped onitserrand of mercy. It required but the lapse of a short space of time ere the sink- ing ship hove in sight. On her deck could be seen her crew. They had left the pumps, knowing as they did, that death was inevitable; and the torture of mind under which they suffered made them wish the end to come quickly. The appearance of the strange sail, however, inspired them with renewed hope, and with frantic gestures they besought their deliverers to make all haste to reach them, ‘Lower away the quarter-boat,” shouted Merton, “and follow me, my men!” It would have secmed amatter of impossibility fora boat to live for one moment in such a sea, but the noble heart that issued the order, and those brave fellows that obeyed, thought not of danger. Before them were feilow-beings hovering on the brink of eternity, and to save them, even though they lost their own lives in the attempt, was the de- termination of all. Providence watched fover that frail craft; and, although it was buffeted hither and thither by the raging clement, at one moment lifted high in air witha quick jerk, or lost to sight in the watery valley, it yet reached the stern of the ae. With superhuman efforts her crew succeeded in safely removing all the passengers from the vessel. To reach their own sbip was now to be effected with much difficulty, but it was at last accomplished; and so completely were the boat’s crew exhausted, that they were unable to return for the remainder, The boat, however, did not remain idle for want of hands. Forth came another knot of those lion- hearted followers of the sea, to take the place of their fatigued comrades; but. alas, their disinter- ested motives were of no avail; at the very moment they were about descending into the boat hey were checked by the sudden exclamation of the commander: - ‘Back on deck with you, my lads! for yonder ves- sel will go down before we can reach her, and it would but jeopardize our own lives to be near. God help them, for we cin dono more.” As he spoke, all eyes were turned nen the hap- less bei on the deck of the sinking ship. They had noticed that the men had been recalled from enter- ing the boat, and the fearful truth burst upon them that their deliverers would but arrive too late to save them, With what stinging agony did they watch the arrival of the moment which was to mark their last on earth. Slewitaae surely the noble fabric sunk. Up, up, and still higher, crept the an- waters. Now they were but a few inches below er decks—now just even with them—and,now, as if in pity for their sufferings. the ship gave one last lifelike troll, and shot quickly from sight, One wild, agonizing cry, that rung out high above the wind, reached the ears of those who had so lately been saved, ere the waters ingulfed them. Tho masts and spars quickly disappeared, one rapidly following the other, dragged down by the huge hull. The ship had sunk from sight forever. A shiver ran*through the hearts of those who had witnessed this tragedy, and the gasp of horror that escaped their lips indicated how strong'y they felt for the hapless beings it had been beyond their power to save, Unnoticed and paraded. Lieutenant Merton had Mr. Snowden and the ladies descended to the cabin, the latter giving way, as they reached it, to their hitherto controlled and yet ee, ae feelings | ina flood of weeping. It was some time before their commander could restore the crew to their wonted cheerfulness and discipline, so strongly had those Lg though tender-hearted men been impressed the fearful sight, and hours had passed before | he was reminded to look to the personal comfort of ose he bad saved. Descending to the cabin. he isked pardon for bis seeming neglect, and explained the cause of his detention. **Do not speak of neglect, sir, to those whom yon e already laid under such a weight of obligation. Ishall put about, if it is possible, + titude for the Rest assured you have our lasting Mr. Snowden, service you have rendered us,” said extending his hand to the young man, while a tear of genuine feeling stood in his eye. “You will refrain from mentioning it,” replied Merton, bowing politely. True,” quickly answered Mrs, Bryce. “It is one of those occurrences in life, sometimes met with, when words are inadequate to exptess the joy, thanks and indebtedness we feel to the one who has been instrumental in producing them.” ** And one,” said Merton, with much earnestness, “from which the sweets are robbed by the very thanks uttered by those who have received the bene- fit. With me, conscience gives all the reward re- quired, and by pleasing that little monitor I feel amply repaid.” ‘* And yet, sir, it would seem very strange did we | allow our sentiments to remain unspoken,” ‘**T hope you have experienced no eee effects from the excitement your fearful peril pr duced?” | “For myself, I can assure you, none; but my daughter is of a more nervous temperament, and I fear for her. How do you now feel, Clara?” The young lady replied that she was extremely weak, but echoed her mother’s thanks for their pre- servation. ‘* We have been conversing some time éncog.. as it were, and I think would feel more at ease could we call each other by name. Permit me to introduce my sister, Mrs. Bryce,and Miss Bryce, my niece. My name is Snowden,” said that gentleman. **T am happy to make your acquaintance,” replied Merton bowing, and, as he fixed an admiring glance on Clara, added: ‘“‘and sincerely hope, sir, that our intercourse may be, by no means, a transient one, I am Lieutenant Harold Merton, of his Majesty's ser- vice.” The young man then inquired as to the port they wished to reach. Finding it beyond his power to touch there bis with own vessel, he laid his course in a direction where he would be likely to fall in with some trading or merchant-ship, and to it to resign his charge. During the period the young man and maiden were thrown together, the feeling of admir- ation on his part, and that of ¢ratitude on hers. had increased to one of sincere aff-ction; and though when the moment of parting arrived, nothing ha assed between them, the following summer found erton a visitor at Mr, Snowden’s house. When the parting came, it found our youthful couple affianced, with the hearty approval of both uncle and mother, CHAPTER II. THE BLACK SHIP AND THE GEORGIA HARBOR. On the north part of the coast of Georgia, where the Medway empties its waters into the sea, ex- tends a cape, or more prope! ly a headland, the base of whose rocky sides is washed by the Atlantic Ocean. Some little distance further out lay a small island, which e«fforded an excellent harbor, safe and well hidden from sight, The entrance of it, how- ever, was lined with sunken reefs and shoals, which required the bold seaman who essayed to enter its protection thoroughly to understand his business, and know where were the hidden dangers. It was in the month of May, 1776, some two years after the events narrated in the previous pages, that the two men were seated on this headland, addregs- ing each other + times in earnest conversation, or else gazing out upon the broad expanse of waters, They were dressed in loose-fitting roundabout- jackets, and wide pants of blue cloih; the collars of their coarse, strong shirts, of the same material, were turned Gown, Le their muscular necks. On their heads rested jauntily circular caps devoid of all brim, and surmounted on top by a knot of black ribbon. The hard, weather-beaten lines, to- gether with the dark-brown hue of the skin, plainly denoted their calling, showing they had oft *‘ battled with the breeze.”” In appearance they were strik- ingly different, as they were in nationality. James Conway~ as the name would indicate—was by birth an Inshman, possessed of quickness of temper and generosity of nature. He was a tall, powerful man, of dark bee apc and raven hair, with an eye re and at times fierce in its ex- ression; in fact. he was one to be cherished as a Friend, but dreaded as an Peace! & His companion was not so tall, yet more compact- ly made, his broad shoulders and expansive chest denoting reat strength. Unlike the other, he was fair-haired; his eye, of a bright blue, was mild in its glance, yet there was a ‘“‘ beware ’’ expression, if we ors! be allowed the term, about the general out- line of his countenance which would cause the same feeling ef respect, on the ground of a man to be feared, as that of his comrade. He answered to the single name of Ronald. and had first seen the light of day among the frowning highlands of Scotland. “Tt's a lang time we ha’e to bide for the Black Ship Jamie, and maybe she willna more be seen by either 0’ our ainsells,”’ * By me faith, but you're right, Ronald, for what snug enough, faith, at the bottom of the sea.” “T ha’e na fear o’ the ship she meets, for it mun be a gude one that would sink her.” ‘* Well, be it as it may, I wish she'd heave in sight, for this isn’t the best country on top of the earth for a man to bein. I tell ye what it is, man, give me old Ireland before all, arid America nixt.” * And wad ye leave Scotland out in the cauld altoe gether, Jamie?” asked the Scotchman, resenting what he conceived to be a slight upon his country. ‘*Not I, Ronald; but we all have a Jand we like best, »nd mine is Ireland. It is hard trave. in yur country; and, by me word, but you sho be Biz-lepged when ye have so much to doin the way | of climbing.” ~ between storms and the enemy’s ships, she may be
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on = f “But we ha’e a fine fresh breeze, laddie, when we reach the craig, and it makes a man bould and burlie to snuff the keen air o’ the hielands.”’ “Well, faith, they are both good countries,” re- plied the lrishman; and then suddenly changing the subject, for he well knew his companion would talk forever in praise of his native land, he asked: “‘ Did ye see the lady yesterday?” : ‘‘Na, Jamie, I did na; but I did the day afore. I tell thee they’re a’ gude followers of the king in that house, and we maun be careful what we say or do, else they'll find us out.” ‘* By the sweet land we’re on, Ronald, but it would be ill for them to try and dog our footsteps, and blood might be spilt before it ended,” replied his companion, his eyes sparkling, and the hot blood mounting to his face. “*Twould be an awsome day for them did they try it, an’ we could play deil-gad o’er Jock Webster with them, but I would na let it make me angry till the time cam,” replied the more cautious Scotch- man. “But do you know for what the ship wants to stop on this shore at all?” p Ronald was about rep!ying, when a rustling in the shrubbery to the left attracted their attention. A man soon emerged and approached. **Good-day to you,” he said, in a gruff voice, and in a manner that struck both pleasantly. ‘*And a good-day to you,” replied Ronald. * Belong about here?’ was the next question. “Don’t you see we don’t by the cut of our jib?” replied Conway, curtly. ‘I see you are a seaman,” “ Yes.”’ “‘ And to what ship-do you belong?” The Irishman was about to give her name, for he ‘was proud of his vessel, and of the f w brilliant deeds she had achieved since the commencement of the Revolution. when a sharp pinch from Ronald warned him to silence, and he allowed his companion to act as spokesman to all the questions which fol- fowed. **To the first one that may c1im.” “This is a hard shore to expect a ship to stop at, and unless you expect one, I would advise you to seek some port either north or south of this.” “Tt would na do for us,” replied Ronald, briefly. The reply indicated some hidden meaning, which ‘was thrown out so as to discover, if possible, with i oiy one of the parties of the day the stranger sided, “And why not for you?” “Because a mon now-a-day can na tell where he will meet a friend or foe.” oa But if you are loyal to America why need you Tear?’ “T was na born here, as ye ken frae my speech.”’ “Yet, for all that, your sympathies may with the Colonies.” “And I might na,” again answered Ronald, slow- ly, yet more directly than was his previous answer, ‘“Perhaps there are many others about this coun- try that would answer as you have,” replied the new-comer, in a tone so low that Conway failed to hear it. **T was born under the ould flag, and why should I ‘want to leave it?” : ‘Spoken like a man,” said his questioner, now firmly believing the Scotchman and his companion were warm friends of the king. “If you will k~ep hid where you are a few days, I will try and place cvyou beyond harm’s way.” As he finished bf pet pO he bade them good-day, omising to see them again, and was soon out of sigkt. Both men indulged ina hearty laugh, while Ronald remarked: “Ttell thee, Jamie, yon chap thought he would blaw in my lug, and (take it a’ for truth, but ye munna believe a mon frae what he says." Little did the two seamen know the true purpose of the man’s visit. Had they, blood assuredly woul’ have been spils. Mr. Snowden, who resided but a ‘short distance from where they were, had noticed two men prowling inthe neighborhood of his house, Being a stanch Tory, he had hired the man we have introduced, together with a sufficient force, to go in quest of them. If they proved, as he suspected, riends to the States and enemies of the king, the were to be arrested. Should resistance be offered, they were to be summarily disposed of, yet in so careful a manner as not to arouse the loyal men of America who lived in the vicinity. “JT would like to know whether there's been any fighting on land yet,” remarked Conway, after he had been gazing out on the ocean for some time. “Ye may believe there has, laddie, for ye dinna think that two armies would na meet, being sa close to each ither for sa lang a time. “Waith, an’ you're right, Ronald, and there’s ‘mana dead and wounded man by this time north. But take a look yonder, at that speck, fer it looks like a sail.” “It’s a sail,” replied the Scotchman, after gazing some time, “and belike it may be the Black Ship.’ “T only hope you’re right, and that once more I may feel a ship’s deck under ny feet, Faith, it’s hard for a sailor to be kept so Jong on land,” . Ye ha’e the signal ready %”’ “ And would na it be weel to take a walk among the trees, afore the ship lifts, for yon chap may be werehing In fa th; but it would, Ronald; do you bide here while I go.’ * Ye ha’ better let me.” “No, no; you stay and watch the ship.” The wind ‘was blowing fresh, and the vessel was mot long in coming near e h for the Scotchman to iden it as his own vessel. Conway returning, The Black Ship. reported no one in sight. Both proceeded to the further extremity of the cliff, and made all ready to signal the vessel. he ship referred to, which bore the singular title of the Black Ship, was an American cruiser, fitted up for the purpose of preying upon the enemy’s commerce, She could not, however, be strictly called a Pe pret as she was directly under the command of the Continental Congress, and was used partly in raga! ir orders, or to operate direct- ly against any of the larger war-vessels of the er, that, from time to time, might become un- usually troublesome. Sbe had been fitted up un- der the immediate supervision of her present com- mander, and was as stanch a craft, if not as large, as any then floating in the American waters. Her name was, evidently, given her in harmony with her color, which was of the deepest black—not con- fined to bull alone, but every mast, spar, and block was painted of like somber hue, and, although in itself gloomy, formed, in contrast to her snowy sails, a pleasing and striking appearance. The model of her hull was of marked beauty and strength, while her long, rakish masts, her thin, tapering spars, and the snowy appearance of h r sails, made her a worthy specimen of the masterly skill of her builders. Not a rope but was neatly coiled away, and her brass shone like gold. Her decks were as clean as brush coul | make them. and her crew seemed to emulate the ship's example, in their unusually neat and tidy appearance. Her commander, Captain Monmouth, was a man in the prime of life, and well known as one of the strictest disciplinarians then in the American service. He was stern in manner, quick of com- rebension, and untiring in his exertions against he vessels of the enemy. There was a cloud of mystery connected with his history, of which he never spoke, even to those who were most intimate with him. Tt was hinted that he had robed his ship in darkness so as to be in unison with the thouzhts that never allowed him to smile. One of his officers was the lieutenant through whose instru- mentality our sgt ees party had b en saved from the wreck. hen tbe first symptoms of the trouble between England and her colonies agitated the public mini of the mother country, Merton al- ways had sided with the latter in the many argu- ments which had been held on board the vessel he commanded or among bis associates on shore, At last, so zealous did he become that he was called the “Joyal rebel.” This title, although playfully given, made an impression on the young man’s mind, until, at length, without giving any reason for the act, he threw up his commission, embarked for the western world, aud, offering his sword to the new country of his adoption, was appointed second ne on board the famous Black Ship of the Re- public, ** How long is it, Mr. Merton, since you left Ronald and Conway to find their way to this part of the coast?”’ asked his commander, as they rapidly near- ed the shore. “Somewhat over six weeks, sir.” “You have arranged with them as to the signals to be us +d?” “Perfectly, sir.” “This is somewhat an encroachment upon my orders, and a deviation from my own law; but as you, Merton, have been of great value to me, lam willing to do you all the favor that lies in my power.”’ “T am truly grateful, sir, for your kindness, and trust I may some day be able to recompense ou,” “You will oblige me by not mentioning it; and now, as you understand the code of signals arranged between you and Ronald, I shall leave you to bring the ship safely to her anchorage.” Merton bowed his reply, and going forward, or- dered, as soon as they were near enough, some powder flashed in a pan. As soon as the wreath of glass. After running it up and down the shore for some time, he finally noticed a small white flag flut- tering on a point of the headland, He instantly notified the captain of the fact. *Do you think the harbor will be a safe one?” asked the captain. “1 do, sir.” *T also mean whether we will be safe from the notice of any war-vessel of the enemy that may 20 977 - * We will, sir, be completely hidden—partly by the point of the cliff, and partly by that island, Be- sides, no vessel can enter without the aid of a pilot.” “Then how are we to arrive at our moorings?” “The seaman will inform me by signals how to avoid the sunken rocks and bars, How would you wish the vessel to lay?” “What kind of a roadstead will we hav."?"’ “T can hardly say, sir, what name would be proper. It can be called a tide-way, for the ebb and ood of tne river affect it somewhat, and it can hardly be called an open roadstead,” “ Anchor, then, Mr. Merton, with an open hawse, and to seaward, If we find that will not answer, we can readily change, and lay the anchor for the flood ‘and ebb, up and down, in the direction of the flow.” “How long shall you lay here, sir?” “I shall probably remain some days, now that I do come to anchor; and, as the vessel would look all the better for a little cleaning, you will see all in readiness to commence when we moor,” The officer instantly gave the necessary directions. The men were at once set to work scrubbing and cleaning the paint-work, especially under the bows and chains. The studding-sail booms were sent on deek, and, after being lightly planed, were set up and painted. Chafed places on the boats, lower white smoke had passed to leeward, he raised his. 3 booms, masts, fl Papeete he Bi etc., were blacked. Lizards and ladders got , and, as they were in a fine latitude, and would be in smooth water, oa parations were first made to clean the ship's sides and paint them down as far as it was foun necessary. The decks were holystoned, together with the accommodation ladder, and put in order; topgallant masts fresh stayed, and the squaring marks of lifts, braces and buntlines looked to; hang- ing mats were taken down, and up went harbor askets; the tacks and sheets were aenten spans of opsail buntlines taken off; in fact, all made ready to bring the ship into the —_ harbor they were heading for with as neat, clean and seamanlike a manner asif they were entering the crowded port of some large city. It was by thus constantly excr- cising his crew, whenever the opportunity offered, that Captain Monmouth was enabled to preserve the neat appearance his vessel wore, and the strict dis- cipline his crew were under, By this time they bad rapidly neared the shore, and the order was given to have the lighter sails takenin, The captain sat with his glass to his eye ready to inform hia officer of the signals that would be made, while Merton stood by the man in charge of the helm to give the necessary directions, “Ronald shows a black signal, Mr. Merton,” at length remarked the captain. ‘Let her fall off a little—steady--so.” “He now shows white over black,’’ was said, after they had stood on for some time inthe direc- tion taken. ‘**Lee braces—brace up sharp. Keep her as close as she will fill. Stand by to obey orders promptly, lads, for we must obey yonder signals as rapidly as they are given.” \ The two sailors under whose guidance the ship was now carefully winding its at among the many hidden dangers that surrounded her, had been left some time previous at a northern port, to make their way to the spot they were now at. and find out the channel to the entrance of the little harbor. Th: y were ordered to obtain an interview with Miss Bryce. if possible, and mention to her the intended visit of the lieutenant, and, if it lay in her power, she was to aid them. On ber uncle’s plantation lived an aged negro who had spent most of his younger days in fishing; consequently, that part of the shore was familiar to him. Clera had secured his services, and from him Ronald had learned how to signal the ship so as to avoid the rocks and shallow waters of the inlet. Being informed scme time previous of the change in the young man's pvlitics, she was much opposed to the intended visit. not that she did not long to be clasped once more in his loving embrace, but, knowing well how bitterly hr uncle would feel toward bim, and also Merton’s quick temper. which would not-brook insult, she feared that unpleasant consequences might ensue. Hearing from Ronald that it was too late to prevent the meeting, she had advised the lieutenant not to attempt a secret one, but jason A to enter the house, let the results be as they would. “They have changed signals to red,’’ remarked the captain. The sbip was again allowed to fall away from the wind, until she was running directly before it. The signal was shown a moment, and then withdrawn from sight. This was repeated several times, when, in obedience to it, the vessel was put on her star- board tack, : ‘*A crooked piece of water this, Mr. Merton; and if a ship should chance to see us she would be apt to knock a hole in her bottom brfere she could reach us. Ronald bas now hoisted white over red, and the upper color is now being waved.” ‘‘ Which meas, wear ship, and to do it without less of time.” Merton's order's were at once given with prompt- ness. The ship, as mentioned, was sailing ov her starboard tack, To deaden her way she was thrown up in the wind, as the intention was to wear short round, her mainsail hauled up, and her spanker brailed up. The head-yards were braced a-box, and the after-yards squared, When the ship had ered stern-way the heim was pit a-port amidshi when she lost it, and as the aft+r-sails filled, and | gathered headway, the order rung out: “Starboard your helm—srquare the head-yards.” Then, as the wind came rcund on the port quarter: **Heave up the after-yards—haul out the spanker, and board the main-tack.” ; Thus, as from time to time the signals were changed, so was the direction of the ve! regulated, At times she would be on her port or starboafd tack, or else come up in the wind, shooting onward with the force given her by the wind’s impulse, while the sails were full. While headway enough continued, so that she would yield obedience to her helm, she would cefully fall away, her yards hauled and sails, filled, every moment increasing ‘the bone in hey teeth.” re Mr. Merton, white, black, and white over, “We have tben reached our ground, sir.’ “T am glad to hear it. Lose no time in anchor- ing.”’ As they reached their position, the weather-anchor was let go, when veering away. They stood on till far enough, when the topsails were clewed up, and her other anchor let go while sheer enough was given.her over the right way, that the cable should pot cross, The precaution was taken to beld on till they hove in, to avoid foling the anchor, ‘The sails were then furled, and all made snug. CHAPTER III. THE MEETING OF FRIENDS AND FOERS. At the time the Black Ship was making her w into the little harbor, a merry party was gath
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re le 4 __ The Black Ship, at the house of Mr, Snowden. The arrival of two British officers with their attendants had caused the nau ae of the place to be disturbed; all now and animation, Their presence at his | ae was kept secret as possible, for the entire country was aroused, and Mr. Snowden was fearful his guests might be’ attacked were it generally known who t 1ey were. The anxiety felt by Clara was intense. She knew that Merton was likely to call at any moment, and did he encounter the offi- cers a disturbance was sure to arise. Hastily sum moning the negro man already mentioned, she gave him a note, with directions where to find the two seamen, and bade him tell them to present it to the heutenant as soon as he arrived. This he succeeded in doing at the time they were signaling the ship; and, as soon as Merton had landed, it was handed to im. It was early in the afternoon of the following day, and the family had assembled in the parlor. The ounger of the two officers, evidently, was much impressed with Clara’s appearance; had she favored his advances, it was plain to be seen an affair of the heart might have fol owed, “Tuis is an awful and wicked rebellion, Miss Bryce,” he remarked, drawing his chair by her side, and gazing with admiration on her beautiful coun- tenance, “War is‘'an awful thing,” she replied, somewhat evasively, “War! It is unworthy of the name. You can not call a revolt from one of the most liberal of Gepertimente by such a misconstrued expression, hy, Miss Bryce, the honorable contest engaged in between two countries is, in itself, noble; but when a colony rises in arms against the country that has brought it into being and nurtured it into prosperity , and strength, it is but a base return for it to strike ‘ at its benefactor in malice and bitterness.” “There may be a difference of opinion between ‘individuals as to what is right and wrong, and in this instance there are two sides to the question,” | she replied, briefly. “You surely do not favor the acts of these Colo- nies inthe slig test degree?” **] do somewhat,”’ ** Miss Be oe yu astonish me.” ‘*] should be pleased to know why?” “From the fact of your being an Englishwcman.” “And does not America possess many warm {friends in England, even among those high gf affice? \ You do not forget the venerable bishop of St. j Asaph’s, who uses such stron ng language against the system of taxation imposed upon the provincial , governmentof America? His language was, as near ‘as my memory serves me, as follows: ‘ Arbitrary | taxation is plunder authorized by law—it is the es- sence and support of tyranny, and has done more mischief to mankind than those other three soos ees, from heaven—famine, pestilence and the swor ‘On my word, but you are a brave defender of | the conduct of the States, and it stands me in hand to be guarded in my speech. You quote the bishop of St. Asaph’s, but what of him? He was but a i single man, and his a single opinion. ‘Tis true this , country has many defenders of its infamous course, ‘but show me a system however bad, ora man how- ever vile, that has not some few friends. No, Miss | Bryce, the land of your oo has done, and is ' doing, wrong; and it will require England as a duti- ful mother to an undutiful child, to administer the chastisement so well merited, even though seas of blood may have to flow, and thousands of valuable lives be sacrificed.” “*T have no fear for the result,” wis the quiet but firm reply. ‘You think, then, England will fail to subdue this people a most. certainly do, sir, and you will eventually see Pay wt m right.’ { e Colonies can not bops to battle success- pene it pet oan ‘grown i ton fh te, ip hopes are grown into a firm purpose, The. will thelr independence,” soe ¥ “I regret we can not agree in our views. For my- self, I have but a , poor Opinion of either Americans or their This was with that air of egotism and jer {ance which re vanquished in debate is ever apt to Pere 4 warn you pe ot to carry that opinion into the atte elds for it might cost you your life.” ‘_ “Because the American is not apt to call up all 4his energies in peeioes nesings one he knows to be an inferior; but one expression as that would ' iwender one rebel a match for thrice his number,’’ she replied, pointedly ‘Let us chase the subject, Miss Clara,” said he, “dushing at the implied sarcasm, Rallying again, he asked ‘*T presume you have heard of the notorious ves- sel in the rebel service called the Black Ship?” “I believe I have.” She started slightly at the question. ‘She has been extremely troublesome to our ves sels, is very rapid in her movements, and audacious in her acts, She is a fit representative, in her color and recklessness, of the American cause. She is, I suppose, not unknown to you’ ara felt her cheeks ogie at the insult so evi- dently implied, but she refrained from expressing ‘her surprise and anger, As if to render his words more painful and insult- ine, he added. “Thave heard of her second officer, a traitor to his country, He left the ship he commanded in his Majesty's service, to offer sword to the rebel EMR Pee a eRe ei Pee Ishould like much to meet this fellow Geor cross swords with him, for the honor of St. orge. e opportunity is offered sooner, perhaps, than the valiant gentleman would wish, a exclaimed a — voice at the door. ra uttered a low scream, as the manly form of Harold Merton ergpen forward to confront the offi- cer Standin e center of the room, dressed in the uniform of his calling, his cap in his right hand, while his left rested on rie hilt of his weapon, his handsome face flushed with passion, his eye proudly returning the lowering glances of the two officers, he was the impersonation of a righteous Nemesis,” ‘Who are you?” inquired the officer addressed. **Lieutenant Harold Merton, of the Black Ship of this Republic,” was the proud reply. This answer produced much sensation. Mr, Snow- den, not aware that Harold had renounced the flag of St. George, nor that he had espoused the cause of the Colonies, was astounded at the sudden dis- closure. Captain Moore, the elder of the two offi- cers, as he heard the name and character of the young man, called an attendant, unnoticed, to his side. Hurriedly whispering a few words to him, the man left the room, “Did I hear aright, Mr, Merton?” exclaimed Mr. Snowden, arising and appears him. ‘Have you turned against your count a ‘““T have cast my destinies with those of America, If that constitutes me a traitor, I most certainl am one, and, furthermore, am proud of the name.’ “T could not have thought you capable of such language, The cause of this country is unjust; her name too darkened by her Spores te enlist the sympathy of an honorable man,” was Snowden’s in- sulting rejoinder. ‘“T have no ar uarre]l with you, Mr. Snowden, but if ou will be pleased to find a substitute in yonder raggart, I shonld like to make an arrangement on any terms “ie mey propos e.’ It would ill ome a gentleman of England to sully, his sword with the blood of such a fellow as you ‘replied Lieutenant Walton. “tomaedt Poltroon! Worthy slave of tyranny!’’ was Merton’s ringin = reply. ““You have uttered your death-warrant—draw |” shouted the officer, in a frenzy of passion. ~ “Not now,” calmly replied Merton. “ Then you are the coward, and forget your boast, But ‘tis what 1 might expect, ” replied Walton, scornfully. “I forget nothing, sir—not even that there are ladies in the room,” replied Merton, fixing his proud eye upon the officer. “Tam reminded, sir; — you. But let us walk out, for there are ’some delightful spots of ground about this mansion,” said Valton, snatching up his cap and striding toward the door. Which, perhaps ps, sir, will afford us as good foot- ing as this’ parlor floor,’ added Harold, following the officer. He had gone but a few paces, when a light yet firm hand was laid upon hisarm. He turned, 5 meet the terrified look of Clara, who, unmind- po Be of the presence of others, in imploring tones ed 3 “Oh, Harold, do not goi For my sake, stop and think before you engage in deadly strife. What will it effect—what aid render to our country?” “ Will it not rid her of an enemy, and will I not chastise yonder fellow who calls himself an English- man?”’ You might be killed. What, then, “You forget. should J do?” The tears streamed down her cheeks, “Tt will be but the risk that surrounds every mo- ment of my life. But I have little to fear in a con- test with that creature.” “ Harold, you must not, shall not go!” “T am waiting i im atiently for the test of your bravery!” called Walton, from the hall, Merton started. In spite of the words and efforts of Clara he gently but any Mapes aged himself, and hastily imprinting a er forehead, started to overtake the bt call Another adver- sary presented himself, however, in the person of ae Moore, as stepping before the young man, * Perhaps ce, my persuasion may carry mre in ard a s headstrong man than yours.” Calling to his lieutenant to return, he continued: * Lieutenant Merton, I arrest you for treason, in being found in arms against your king.” He essayed to lay his hand upon Merton’s should- der, but it was dashed away with much violence. Drawing his sword with one hand, he held a pistol in the other, while the expression of his counte- nance, as well as his menacing attitude, made the officer shrink away from him, “TI warn you all,” he said, “if you value your lives, to beware how you attempt violence with me, I am, ’tis true, but one against three, but I am equal to you all!’? He cast around him flashes of defiance and readiness. ‘*Harold Merton,” said Mr. Snowden, approach ing a few co nearer the young man, an ak- ing with much feeling, “‘my family and myself can never forget that to you we owe our lives. I do not foraes your bravery in rescuing us from the sinking , nor of the glorious service you were then in a at of the British navy, On your first visit to this house, you sought and obtained the hand | my niece, with the sanction of her mother and my- self, Little did we then think you ever would de- serve our censure, by proving recreant to your country or her interests. But, alas, to your ever- lasting shame and dishonor be it said, your onw tongue has proclaimed your disloyalty What as- surance have we that you will prove true in all things, when you are false in this? How are we to know but you may meet witlr some other fair face, whose tastes, form or features may be more to your liking, and that this poor girl may, at any mo- ment, be cast aside in heartless disregard of all ob- z ations? Return. Harold, to your allegiance, and will then be well.” o' Never!” was the short, stern reply. alike your i appucetous and your toryism.” “Then yiel yourself a prisoner to this officer c the king. “Note while life remains, or this arm retains its strength.” ‘*Toen listen to me, sir, and mark well my words, for they shall be obeyed to the very letter. J here declare, in the presence of these witnesses, that the engagement hitherto existing between yourself and my niece is at an end, and never shall you be al- lowed to see her again. x ‘* Are you more than man,” replied Harold, with an air of hauteur, ‘* that you think the power of controlling the destinies of two beings rests with ur approval or disapprovaly Mr. Snowden, you think to take advantage of me, because Iam one among so many, and frighten me by threats, even by the mean, contemptible one you have employed, in annulling a life-contract made between Clara and myself, an which is beyond your power to control. Shall I show Fou, 4 sir, how lightly we heed your com- mand?” he asked Turning to the young girl, he continued: ‘“ Clara, do you think 1 will ever prove recreant to our plighted vows? Answer boldly, dear irl. 6 You never will be false to me, Harold,’’ was her confident and unfaltering reply. “Then show the company, y Placing your hand in mine, that the absolving will of Mr. Snowden can. not sever us from the vows we have made,” Without a moment’s hesitation she approached his side, and with the confidence ever existing in. the heart of a true woman, tere] her hand in da. Her uncle could not quietly behold this. Losing al} self-command, he rushed toward the young man, followed by the lieutenant. * Lose no time,’ he shouted, ‘‘but arrest at once. this insolent traitor to his country, and the insulter of my house.” The upraised pistol and glittering sword, together with the stern voice of Merton, checked them. They stood transfixed beyond the reach of his arm. **Once more I bid you beware, for unless I am driven to it in self-defense, I would not. wish to shed blood in this room‘ or in the presence of these ladies. Give me uninterrupted passage from this house is all I demand. If you do not, I shall fight my way out.” ‘* We consider you a prisoner, and consequently you can not have your request granted,” replied Captain Moore, placing himself again in Merton's , a scorn wa vj And as. we are the strongest and can enforce our wishes,” added Mr, Snowden, going to the nn if erect s side, “‘ your defiance is as foolish as it is rec ess.’ ‘* We shall see who can boast of superior numbers.. I did not wish to carry matters to this extreme, but you have driven me to it.”” Then raising his voice, pees called: “Hither, my lads! This way, you sea- te) A 3 ie tramp was heard. The captain and Mr. Snowden were “inlay. thrust aside, and Ronald and Conway strode into the room, to plant them- selves by the side of their officer. This reinforce- ment was entirely unlooked for. ** Ye be in a tight place, sir, but ye ha’e but to gi'e the sign, and Jamie and I will make a clear path frae here to yonder door.” ““ Ay, ay, sir,”’ continued Conway. ‘ You have but to w nk your eyo but the smallest bit in the world, and we'll soon have you clear from these lub- bers; or, if you’d like, Ronald and I'll jest make them fast in, a running bowline, and take them along to the ship” “We will do nothing yet, my men, if they let us depart quietly. Then turning to Captain Moore, he continued: “You see I am not destitute S friends, and_ our numbers are now equal. Still, 1 am opposed to violent measures when they can “a avoided, Will you now give me free passage?” " “Not quite at wf my young warrior,” replied the Captain, snee: As you have brought rein- forcements to the ‘field, I will see what J can doin that line meer Then raising his voice, he order- ed: ‘Forward with you, men!” The door in the rear of the room was thrown open, and fifteen British soldiers, with their gay uni- forms and bright muskets, filed into the room, and drew up in line behind their officer. All turned their eyes upon Merton and his two sailors, expect- ing to see a look of blank hopelessness in their countenance, but what was their 25) ped to see their lips wreathe into ascornful smile. Merton, stepping to the center of the room, exclaimed, in a voice that showed the moment of action had pl am * Once, and once only, do 1 allow me to leave this Boom quie ””? 2 Sal ao risoner.’ at will never “We shall see, eeclind them, men.” “Back, every one of you, or your blood be upon your own heads!” shouted M with a ig manding wave of his hand, MS Tet’ this. farce be | ended, orl have wasted too much time already. Ronald, wind your call |” The shrill sound of a boataneia’s whistle pene- trated to every part the house, and the hoarse voice of Ronald calling the order of “ Board- ers away |” startled the astonished soldiers. The sound still rung out far and clear, when the tramp ain ask: will you. — ie ee ee See ee
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og > - The Black Ship. eof many hurried seep was heard. Soon in from tthe door, and climbing like so many monkeys in at the windows, appeared twenty stout fellows of the «crew of the Black Ship. “TIow think you, gentlemen?” asked Merton, proudly. ‘* Have I not enough now at my back to successfully force my way? Think you yonder row of naked swords and pikes are lightly to be counted iin a contest? I will not, however, for the sake of these ladies, as I have repeatedly said, use the ad- ‘ntage I now hold over you; and, also for their tes, will ee the pleasure of taking you all isoners, provided you offer no resistance to my Jeaving the house. If you do, I will give the order ifor my men to commence the bloody work." Then turning to the sailors, he said: ““Away with you to the outside, my lads, but iif you again hear Ronald's call, enter at once and ao your duty. You understand what I mean.” * We are compelled by force of numbers to grant you your request, but perhaps the fortunes of war may again bring us in contact. If so, I shall hope to deal you the punishment you s0 richly merit,”’ ‘said the captain, angrily, at the same time motion- ‘ing his men to leave the room, “T shall only be tooj happy to meet you, sir, and ‘perhaps may have the Meuse of showing you the nternal structuro of the Black Ship. But time flies, and I cannot longer stay to enjoy such agreeable ecompany. I wish she good-day,” : pe bowing, he left the room, motioning Clara to follow. Reaching the hall, he encountered Walton. Pausing, and fixing his keen eyes upon him, he said sternly: “With you, sir, i have a matter to settle of no small moment, and shall endeavor to find you out sat the earliest period that offers. Any man who makes threats or endeavors to defame another be- hind his back, is only worthy of the notice wo give “to dastaris.” He wai'ed not for reply, but taking Clara’s hand, strode rapi!ly on, until they were hid from observa- ‘tion by the foliaze. Here he paused, and drawing ithe agitated girl to his breast, said: “Tregret, dear girl, solely on your account, that my presence led to what has just transpired; but I could not avoid it, and surely, love, you do not blame me.” “N t in the least, dear Harold, although it may ‘seriously aff-ct your future,” she replied, ga. ing up ‘into his face with troublet eves. “True, Clara, it may rendcr our meetings difficult, sand perhaps at long intervals; but the end will be be hg the samo, if we but remain truce to each -other.”’ ‘Tecan readily answer for myself, and have all faith ‘in gous” ~he replied, a smile of love and confidence lighting up her sweet face.” F “And well you may, dear Clara,” he replied, ‘earnestly, ‘‘ You are not aware thatT played eaves- ‘dropper to your conversation with the officer?” “IT knew you must have heard something of what be between us, or you would not have addressed jeutenant Walton in the manner you did.” ‘*T must now pare with you, my dear one, forthe news | shall bring Captain Monmouth will cause him to make sail at once,”’ “Stay but for a moment longer, Harold, for God “only knows when we snail meet again, and I have something yet to say.” “You can feel no more reluctant at part'ng than I myself am, but recoilect, dear girl, that my time is not my own. What you have to say, say briefly.” “Wirst, Harold, do you think this country will achieve its independence?” “Beyond a doubt, it will, Why?’ “Pardon me for not telling you at present,” she Sb i * What I wish to mention is, that my uncle told my mother some days ago, that it was not alto- gether safe for a man of his avowed principles to wemain in this part of the country, and it was his dintention to remove to New York.” ‘Wil he take the entire family?” *'Yes.” “Then we may see each other sooner than I thought for,” * ‘Your ship is, then, bound for that port?” *T am given to understand so.” * You must not risk vour life or liberty simply to gratity your desire to visit me; for remember the \ elope to youradopted country, Battle, dear Harold, bravely for the cause we have both so near at heart, Risk, if yoa will, all for her, but be not rash in placing yourself where tho power of Captain Moore or Lieutenant Waiton can reach you.” , “ Are they on their way North?” “They go either to Boston or New York, as they shall reeeive orders.” “What method do they take to reach there?” “A lirge British man-of-war is to stop on this coast Jor them,” “Ah!” exclaimed Merton, quickly, and slightly Pb pantia A “*Then I must lose no more time, for the Black Ship does not lay in so safe a harbor as she might. “When do they expect her?” ; “ Every day: at any hur.” “Then good-by, love, for this news is important, and T must communicate it without loss of time to my captain. May Go bless and keep you Clara, till we meet again, There, there. be a good, brave woman; refrain from tears; our parting is but for a short time. Dear girl, farewell.” And with these last words, he hurried away, leav- ing kiss warm on her trembling lips anc pallid cheeks. CHAPTER 1V. THE ESCAPE AND THK YANKFE RUSE. Merron safely reached the vessel, and, without | a Sas Se a ae eee ee eee ee ee ee ee ea ee loss of time, informed Captain Monmouth of what was impending. The danger attending them, aid the man-of-war arrive while they were hid under the lee of the island, was by far more important than at first would be supposed. True, it was impossible for the enemy to reach them through the dangerous channel they had passed, and equally as impossible for them to leave while the man-of-war blockaded the en‘rance. The name, and, of course, the na- tionality of their ship would. be soon known. With such a prize at hand, the English commander would not let the opportunity pass unimproved for at- tempting her destruction. This he could effect with- out much trouble, for, having open water, he could change his osition at will, so that his cannonade could bear from any point he chose. Besides, he would, without doubt, send a land-party, who could open fire witb light guns at easy range from the island, and to dislodge them would simply be impos- sible. Not a second was to be lost, since the unwel- come visitor might at any time arrive, By this time it was nearly sundown. Prepara- tions wero made at once for starting, as it required allthe remaining daylight to extri¢ate themselves from their dangerous situation. One thing, from its singularity, is worthy of notice, Ronald and his companion had been shown the channel from shoro af means of landmarks; consequently, to pilot the ship they must be on sore, or they would know no more of the channel than did the rest of the crew. A small boat was instantly at their service, in which they embarked. With long and werful strokes they forced her through the water. As soon as they had landed and made signals, the anchor was got home, and the ship, with bows seaward, com- menced threading her intricate way our. They had arrived in deep water, and the boat was rapidly nearing them, when, suddenly, a ery rung out from the mast head: **Sail ho!” ‘* Whereaway?” called Captain Mommouth, ‘Off our lee bow.” ‘* What do you make ker out?’’ “Tt is too dark to sce her piainly, sir; but it is a large ship.” “ How does she head?” “R ght for here, sir.’’ ‘It is, no doubt, the very ship we wish to avoid, Mr. Merton,” he remarked, turning to the young man, * Without doubt it is, sir.” ‘* Have they seen us yet?” “T thnk they have, sir, for she comes on under full oe and has changed her course a point further south.” “Let me know if-you see any thing unusual,” “Avy, ay, sir.” “Will you fight her, sir?” “*No, for my orders are not to engage any vessel unless we are sures of obtaining an easy victory, and yonder strang.r, I think, carries more weight than “T think, with you, sir, it would be prudent to avoid her.” “Tf we ean,” quickly added the captain, ‘You see Bo hang she is beading directly across our rack, the Scotchman and Conway reached the Geck. The former was sent aloft with a glass. No man of that crew could be better relied on for sharp obser- vation and correct judgment. It had been sono time since the s ip’s people had leard the roar of conflict. It could be seen plainly, from the eager looks that sat upon their countenances, that willing hearts and ready hands stood anxiously waiting the order to get to quarters. A short time elapsed be- fore the voice of Ronald bailed the deck: “It's a frigate, sir, and carries the flag o' England at her gaff.” “Is she much larger than we?” asked the captain. “ Amaist half as big again, sir, and she’s beating to quarters.”’ To corroborate the man's words, the sound of a drum reached their ears, and the flash of the batule- lantern could be painly seen, * Shall [ beat to quarters, sir?” asked Merton. “No, but let the men take their places without noise, We may have to receive one broadatde, and, if we do, by the honor of my vessel, but they shall receive one in return,” replied his superior; as his face grew as settled and firm in its expression as grani'e rock. “Ts it not remarkable they have discovered us so readily ?”’ “Not a whit, for this vessel_is very generally known. Put the ship about, Mc. Merton,’ The order was quickly given, and as quickly obeyed. Their course now lay, provided their enemy kept on her present course. in a direction which would pass them astern. No sooner, however, had they gathered good headway, than the huge hull of their enemy swung up in the wind, and the two ves- sels were running parallel with each other, Captain Monmouth saw, at once, that he had a wily foe to deal with, It would require his utmost tact to escape, Without waiting a moment to de- liberate, he glanced first at the stranger and then aloft then ordered: “Ready O! keep your ship full stays! Ease your helm down—s/-cdy/ Haul over the boom—now down with your helm. hard! Helm a-iee! Let go fere and head sheets and overhaul! Raise tacks and sheets—keep fast the fore-tack—check the fore bowline! Let go the topgallant bowlines and Shorten in the lee main tack! Haul well taut! mainsail haul! Fore-tack, head bowlines—off all, haul! Pipe-sweepers and _hammock-stowers, Mr, Merton, and let me see those ropes coiled down properly,” The ship was now headed. on her original tack, 5 LT A RNR RAT I AEE SETAE OR Sa OE By the quickness with which she had come about, much ground had been U gees yet care was taken that their course should not Jay them under the sweep of their enemy’s guns, which could not be brought to bear unless she either came up in the wind, or else fell away directly before it. After re- peating this maneuver several times, he saw the required distance was gained; the moment had ar- rived, when, by a bold dash, he must effect bis es- cape, or be sunk by the broadside of the frigate. “Stand by your guns, my lads, and see to it you waste not a single pound of your iron,” he said, as he ordered his vessel about for the last time, On they dashed; a moment would suffice to cross the frigate’s track, when she was seen to start up in® . the wind, The next instant a flame of fire belched from her huge sides, folowed by the deafening roar of ber cannon. The Black Ship's reply was almost instantaneous. Owing to the darkness that now surrounded them, the Briton’s broadside did but lit- tle misehief, wounding two men, tearing some holes inthe Yankee’s sails, besices severing some of the less important ropes. The fire of the Black Shi was, however, much more effective, for, by the flas of the frigate’s guns, they had been enabled to secure an accurate aim, and the sharp, agonizing cry, the tearing sound of wood, which they distinct- ly heard, told what havoc kad been made. Much as even Captain Monmouth wished to con- tinue the firing which had commenced with such effect, prudence warned him to forbear. Conse- quently his ship hela her course and soon was safe out upon the broad Atlantic. His orders now compelled bim to shape his course toward the coast of New Jersey, where it was ex- pe an additional complement of men awaited im, together with orders which might assign him to dangerous work, ‘‘Have ye learned any news, Ronald, from our lieutenant?” askcd Conway.the next day, as the two men lay lounging on the deck, * Weel. I ha’e a sma’ bit to tell ye.” “Let's have it, tren, for, by me soul, it’s a treat to git a bit of 1 ews nowadays.” “Ye ken the British troops were whipped at Boston, dinna ye?” __*T heard so, but don’t know how it was done; and if you do, suppose yeu give us a little history like of the affair.” * You see, first cf all. Jem’e, they ha’ quite a time over the flag we ha’e now hoisted at our peak. When Waslhingtcn—blers him—first showed it, Howe thought we ha’ submitted again 10 the crown, and they ha’ a great time o' rejoicing; but, Jaddie it ba’ no sic meaning. The Yankees were amaist a? ready to attack the king's trocps. They were na lang in seeing their mistake, for Washington fortified the Hrights o’ Dorchester, and opened fire frae Lochmere’s Point and Plowed Hills, Ye ken well the place, I trow, Jamie.” * Faith do I, Ronald; but go on.” “Well, laddie, a little afcre the firing began, they were ha’ing a gude time in vhe British camp, play- ing a farce ca’ed * Boston blockaded,’ and making a’ the’ sport they could o’ us Yankees. They ha’ a mon dressed like Washington, wi’ a auld wig on his head, and a tusty sword by his side, They were ba’ing their own sport, when in creme a sergeant wi’ the news that the Yankees were attacking Bunker Hil. At first they thought it were a’ sham, and part o’ the play, but burly Howe was soon shouting for his cfficers to gang to their places, and the people ran frigehtened away, I tell thee, Jamie, they ba’ no time more for sic fun. I think it wa’ on the fifth o’ last March, and they say it’ wa’ a mild, sunny dey as iver shone this time o' year, when the British ordertd twenty four hundred men to Castle William, so they could that nigbt attack our men. It wa’ not meant, Jamie. that the fight should be, for the wind begen to blaw, and the king’s men could na land, so the order cam frae Howe the next day'to get ready to lee ve Bcston,” * And have t 1ey left?” inquired Conway. “I ken they ha‘e.” . “Ships and all?” * Ay, laddie.”’ “ By me sowl. but that’s too bad. t where have they gone to?” BR **T dinna ken, but we shall hear when we touch on the coast o’ pi gw at a who 9 oe they have gone back to England.” “ De'il the bit fear o’ that; but Boston wa’ too hot for them to bide a blink Janger in," * Then it’s ike we are to hunt them up, or cut in- to seme of their ships.” This remark of Conway, although epceken at ran- dom, actually was the truth; fer cn the ship’s are riving at Barnegat lay, the folk wing communica tion was found awaiting her, together with the ex- tra crew: “To CapraIn Monmovurn, ecmmandina the Continen- tal Congress vessel-f-war known as the Black Ship: “Str:—Being aware of the impossibility of your obtaining any thing like a true estimate of the stir- ring events now taking place in the history of our common country, we briefly mention, in cc nnection with the orders inclosed, the leading movements of both armies, knowing that, should you fall in with an enemy’s ship, and wish to pass as belonging to another nation, how important it would be that our movements, as we!l as those of the enc my, should be known to you. * Howe, with the entire British army, has evacu- ated Boston, He was forced ty do so by the menac- ing attityde of our forces. On the fifth of March, the British evidently meditated an attack, bu owing to the gale that sprung up, the could no land their men, The following night it rained in- cessantly, and a terrible storm raged all the next JNA
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ia] y, \ U i aa ¢ ¥ j . hd f y) »* . . " 7 ‘y ' i > ‘ a * % day. This caused Howe to relinquish his design. Washington reinforced General Thomas with two thousand men on the Heights, and four thousand troops in two divisions, under Gen- eraJs Sullivan and Greene were in readiness at Cam- bridge to be led by Putnam to an at.ack on Bosten, while the troops from Roxbury were to cooperate with them. Howe, seeing how exceedingly critical his position was becoming, called a meeting of his officers; on the 7th they cecided to leave the city. This they have since done, in a fleet of about one hundred and fifty sail. The place has been injured beyond imagination by the foe, together with what our several cannonadings and bombardments havo caused, Private properiy bas suffered much and, in many cases, menin affluent circumstances have been reduced to poverty. Had it not been that the British soldiers were governed by officers possessed of some prudence and honor, and were controlled by the fear of us, the town would have been given over to sack and pillage. We can not give you a better idea of their estimate of our skill and bravery, than quoting an extract from a letter of one of their officers, who says: ‘Neither hell, Hull, nor Halifax, can afford worse shelter than Boston ” ** Washington has sent off five regiments to New York, together with a portion of his artillery, as it ——— they will attack that city. On the nineteenth of May, the Franklin and Lady Wash- nn started for a cruise. but got aground at Point Shirley. Before they could get off they were at- tacked by thirteen armed boats from the British vessels. They were enabled, however, to beat the enemy off, and finally suceeeded in making their es- cape. You will keep a lookout for these vessels and place yourself in communication with them, if they fallin your way. It is with the deepest feel- ings of sorrow we have torcport the death of Cap- tain Mugford, of the Franklin, who received a mor- tal wound while bravely defending his ship. His last words were characteristic of the courage he has always shown, and rung out far and clear, with his last breath: ‘Don’t give up the ship! ‘You will beat them off!’ ‘Your orders now, sir, are to proceed to Boston, and engage any of the enemy's vessels that you may fall in with. Prudence, however, will teach you to avoid some, but we have all confidence in your judgment. In proceeding to that port you will stand well out to sea, so as not to attract the attention of any along-shore vessels of the enemy, When you arrive, repor, to the commander of the ort, and he may have further to communicate. ou w'll make all haste upon the receipt of this, and obey orders to the letter. “By order of the Marine Committee, ‘“ RoperT Morris, Chairman,” Asroon as Captain Monmouth had read this paper, he lost no time in haviug his ship put in readiness for more active service. Water-casks were reple:i- ished, and from a store of ammunition carefully concealed on shore, the lack. in the ship was re- laced. The new men were assigned their respect- i stations and watches, and agatn the ship had only the sea and her duti s before her. 1t was late on the third day out, and Captain Mon- mouth, surrounded by his officers, was discussing their probavle success or defeat in the new cruising- grounds they were ordered to, when the loud voice of the man at the lookout interrupted their conver- sation by reporting a sail in sirht, The announce- ment created no confusion; there was no ad fr hither and thither, no asking of useless questions, Officers and men took the matter as an event of everyday occurrence. It was soon ascertained that the sail was a British man-of-war, and from its ac- tions they judged it was in charge of a convoy. This was shortly verified by the appearance of two other ‘vessels. **Stand ready, my men, to mask ship!’’ calmly or- dered the cap “ Ay, ay, sir!” Aaa then, in a few moments, a voice called out: **Ready forward! ready aft!” “ Over with it!” * Over it is, sir!” The purport of this order was to arrange aleng her sides, by means of cords aud weights, a long, broad strip of white canvas, When on, it lay so snug as to appear like a white streak painted along her sides, and even at a short distance could not be noticed. This disguise was assumed to enable ber to as the British vesse] Asia, which was one of the most valuable and daring cruisers then hovering on the American coast. The appearance of the vessels was remarknbly similar; the only way iu which they could be distinguished was by their color. Even this discrepancy the canvas was intended to remedy. ae te - wit you engage, Captain Monmouth?” inquired Merton. “That depends upon circumstances,’’ he replied. “‘It is my intention to pass the Asia, and. if possible, to cut the convoys out during the night. Perha yonder war-vessel may be an old friend of ours, If so, I shall beat to quarters, but if, as l hope, she proves a stranger, I shall want one of you young gentlemen to go on board and obtain all the infor- mation you can.” The officers were somewhat startled at this propo- sition. They well knew the danger attending such a visit, for, did the British commander discover the true character of his visitor, he would scarce hesi- tate to sboot him on the spot. “Tf you find it necessary to send one ef us on board, sir, !, as the highest in rank, claim it as my pees. > pt last said Merton. “Have you any nts to suggest relative to the interview?” **None, save for you, if possible, tu learn any —s The Black Ship. new signals, or the names of any additional vessel | they may intend sending out. Should I hear the report of a pistol, I shall at once unmask and open fire; for, if you fire, it will be understood as a sig- nal, and if they, it will be at pany Let your men re- main in their boat, for, did they ascend to the deck, some indisereet remark from them might discover all. Now, gentlemen, at once to your duties and posts. Let the men get to quarter without noise, and keep hid behind the bulwarks, You will see to this, Mr, Merton.” ’ The ship was at once cleared for action, but in such « manner as not to attract the attention of the foe. It was now quite dark, but, being a bright starlight night. the outline of the man-of-war could be dimly observed. When arriving as near as possi- ble, without creating Pays age three Janterns were held aloft in the Black Ship’s rigging the center one being oscillated to and fro, A shert time, and the signal was answered by a single light, shining out from the mainmast of their enemy. The head of the ship was now put directly for the stranger, and Merton shortly after appeured on deck dressed in the uniform of a British officer, while, near by, stood the crew he had selected. The British vessel had also been brought up in the wind, to await her sup- pone friend, while the convoys being deeply laden, Revenge, waiting for tbe day to dawn. As soon as: the first streak of morning came faintly struggling through the fog, all was life and animation, in pre- paring the ship for action. Bulk-heads. mess-traps,. etc., were got down; shot ¥ hipped up, and the guns. carefully inspected and load fir short :anges. Tubs were filled with wat:r. and distributed where the men could readily reach them; chain-pumps worked without noise to ascertain whether all wes clear; spare tiller got ready, rudder pendants cut adrift and led inboard, and relieving-tackles placed. The lower snd topsail-yards and gaff slung with chain; topsail-sheets stoppered; toggies on the braces, and stays and rigging-snakes down; ecek- pits and store-rooms well lighted. The magazine was opened and the passage wet; the deeks were sanded. In fine. all that is required to clear a ship for action was done without noise cr confusicn— the men arrangirg themselves behind the bulwarks ready at the signal to seprirg to quarters. The of- a were gathered aft, silently waiting for the fog to lift. The sun had risen, and the wind, springing up at the same time, the mist suddenly disa peared, as if by magic, revealing to tbe astonished crew of the Revenge a startling sight. But a’ short distance from them lay the dark, ominous hull and towering masts of the Black Ship; her frownin sides threat- ening to belch forth their iron hail at any moment. Both officers and crew, with their locks still fixed upon the vessel, observed a piece cf canvas lowered over the side, and on it in plain letters were written the following words: ‘*My superior grants the request you made known to me last night. The Black Ship this morning meets you alone. our VISITOR ” The commander of the Revenge was as brave a man as ever trod deck, After reading the words, he glanced to where the convoys Jay, and observed the hated flag of the United Colonies flying at each peak. He ordered the men beat to quarters, while the hot blood mounted to his very forehead. ‘Fool that I was,” he muttered, ‘ not to discover the imposture, and my enemy in my power. This is no time for words or idle regrets. I told him that yonder cursed vessel I weuld sink, did ever chance throw her in my way; and, by Heaven, it shall be no fault of mine if my werd is not kept!’ Then, addressing his crew, he added: “In yonder ship, my lads, you see no common foe. They are bone of your bone, and in the con- test which we are about to engage, you will ag, (73 be fighting a foe as unyielding as yourselves. Re- member your cause—God and St. George! Sooner would I lead you to a watery grave, or blow you into fragments with the ship, than see this proud flag lowered to yonder pirate crew."* A loud shout followed these words, while with it ‘ a : oT a 4 ate teenie 2
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at came the shrill sound of a whistle, and the men sprung to their guns. As yet, no5 a human being was to be seen on the Black Ship, save the man at the wheel. At last the single tap of a drum was heard. In a second, out from their hiding-places rushed the crew. “Aim low, my brave lads, and let not a single shot gc wide of its mark, Remembe Pn strike for life, liberty, and a country’s honor, Fire!” The noble fabric quivered with the recoil cof her uns. The thunder of her broadside was deafening nits awful roar. Not a moment was v soa in as- certaining the damage done. She was shot Sntonly up in the wind, and a second more her other broad- side was brought to bear, and sent its iron hail into the sides of theenemy. The helm was again shifted, and she headed i nhg for the Reven’e, “Boarders away! Follow me, my men,"’ shouted = as the vessels met and were quickly made ast. **Repel boarders!"’ was the loud response; and a hand-to-hand conflict commenced. “Lay on, Ronald; for, by me faith, but yer sur- prising yourself,” shouted Conway, springing to the side of his companion, and swinging his heavy sword with as much ease as if it had been a willow wand. * Ay, laddie, I maun do my best, and I binna con- nie where I strake,” he replied, as he let his weap- on fall upon the head of aman who had, for some time successfully opposed his progress. As he stepped over the prostrate body, he observ- ed a man rush with a boarding-pike toward Mer- ton, who was engaged with an officer, and raise the weapon in the act of striking. Springing quickly to one side, he drop his pike, and, seizing the man by the waist, whirled bim round, but in so doing, missed his footing, and both fell to the deck. His adversary was ae as powerful as himself, and the struggle which now commenced was one of pure strength and endurance, Over and over they rolled, each trying to secure some wrapon, in which he was frustrated by the quickness of the other. The contest was finally decided, however, by a pee of small-arms fired by the boarding party. Ronald, who re ned at that moment to be under- most, noticed his foe relax his hold, and with a shiver rol) off upon the deck. Raising himself upon his elbow--for he was completely exhausted—he gazed upon the death-struck countenance of his enemy. “How now, mon; ha’ a bit o’ cold lead found its way to thy mow?” he asked, as a grim smile of tri- umph passed over his powd: r-ctained visage. Slowly turning, and evidently with great pain, his face wore a look of dying hatred, as he gurgled rather than spoke: “Traitor! c brother's blood be on your head;” and exhauste | with the effort, he fcll back dead. “Na, mov,” said Ronald, earnestly, addressing the ear that was eaf to all mortal sounds, “TI be na more a brother to ye than be a Frenchman. Ye fight for Eng!and, and I for America, but,” he add- ed, shaking his head mournfully, and rising to his feet, ‘‘ye may na ha’e got far on the spirit road afore I follow ye, and then God will judge between us,” Looking about him to ascertain the situation of affairs, his face lit up wi ha glow of victory as he suw the flag of his adopted country flung to the breeze, where, but a short time before, the proud ensign of British power waved. Joining in the pro- lo:ged shout which issued from the sturdy throats of the followers of his ship, he turned his attention to the dead and dying strewing the deck. Short but bloody had been that fight. Around the brave but simple hearted Scotchman lay, stretched in their gore, the bodies of friend and foe. Some were already dead; some were hovering on death’s dark verge; while others were heed in their agony for some kind hand to deal them the blow that should end their sufferings. On the counte- nance of the dead couid be read, as on a printed age, the thoughts lact uppermost in their minds. he will to conquer or die, of determination and un- alterable purpose, was treced by the clinched teeth, the clo: hand and the frowning brow. Some, per- chance, had thought of home, with all its sunny joys—of father, mother, or a loved wife—alas, now parted with forever! and this was discernible in the melancholy that rested upon their pallid yet reso- lute faces. Oh, war! When will the vi lure of car- nage cease to hover over civilized lands? soon as the a was surely won, the atten- tion of the crew was directed to the sad task of burying the bodies of their late companions, and in removing all the wounded to where they could be attended to, A prize crew was detailed and put in charge of the Revenge, with orders to repair to the rendezvous on the coast of New Jersey, together with the two other vessels. The prisoners, for reasons best known to Captain Monmouth, were re- — and his vess.l started for her destined po: Arriving near Boston, the ship was kept under easy sail, and the strictest watchfulness kept, as the strength of the enemy who yet remained in those waters was not known. Carefully avoiding the more open sea, he made his way among the many small islands that abound within the bay, Placing his vessel in a deep but narrow cove, where he was securely hidden from view. be dispatched Mer on with the prisoners by land to the city, while he remained to watch, like the bird which America bad selected as the symbol of her aspiring emt. and, like it, to swoop upon any vessel which mig chance in his way. Merton safely reached the end of his journey, and was warmly welcomed, Owing to the yet disturbed state of the country, his departure was Celayed from day to day, until, finally, a month glided by, without The Black Ship. any definite order received for him to rex A back to his ship. He almost feared that Captain Monmouth would weary of this inaction, and that when he did return it would be to find his vessel gone. His mind was set at rest, however, by the arrival in June of Licutenant Colonel Campbell. with seven hundred of his men who had been made prisoners, together with a note from bis commander, in which he re- marked: ‘*T have waited for you with much anxiety, and at times have feared you had fallen into the hands of the few dissimulating Torics yet lurking in secret places. You have with you Ronald, Conway and other sturdy fellows, who are equal toa host in themselves, and this reassures me of your safety. This will be handed you by the officer in command of the party taking in the prisoners, in whose cap- ture my vi ssel took active part. Let not a moment be lost in returning when you reccive our final or- ders, for this inactivity is becoming irksome.” A few days after this was received, news came of the intend d attack of the Briish troops on the American forces then intrenched on Long Island; and, also, that as the enemy’s ship, Roebuck, had become exceedingly troublesome, the Dlack Ship was to sail at ones, either to destroy her or lead her off by some stratagem, Merton at once was recalled. Without delay he summonel his fulowers and started. The distance from the city to the cove where the vessel lay was some twenty miles. Our seamen had accomplished nearly half of this distance, when, on turning a point of the road, they suddenly care upon a man seated where ao little stream was murmuring its way to the sea, He was, evidently, one of those vagabo ds who, during the Revolutionary struggle. did somuch toward injuring the American cause by giving infor- mation to the enemy of the movements of the Col- onial troops. **Good-day to ye all,’’ he said, as the party came up to him, speaking in a voice whose very accent spoke the enemy. ‘*Good-day,’’ replied Merton, briefly, as he eyed the f-llow sharply. “You needn’t speak quite so sharp, mister,’’ retorted the man, boldly. ‘It wasn’t nothing but a civil question I axed you, and ought to have a civil answer.”’ “*T grant it,’’ replied Merton, smilin himself; ‘‘but what more do you want than said?” ‘Nothing, as I knows on, that you can give. But which way are you traveling?” “To the end o’ our journey,” quickly answered Rorald tu this or ea ‘*But you be all a sharp lot of chaps,” replied the fellow, bursting into a loud guffaw. “We be sharp enough to ken a fool frae a. knave, and ye be none o’ the first.’ ‘7 ain’t either, but a poor man from the country, who bas been kicked out of house and home by the Tories, and all because I wanted to fight for the Colonies,”’ replied the stranger, casting his eyes upon the ground and wearing the appearance of a man alike despised and ill-treated both by friend and foe. ‘And ha’e ye struck a blow for the cause?” “Not y<t, for I cin't had a chance.” ‘* Ha’e na had a chance!” replicd the Scotchman, in indignation. *‘Where were ye when the batues of Lexingon or Bunker Hill, or the fights of Boston, were ganging on? Ye maun keep a strict te a a@ canny speech, else it will go hard wi’ ye. - Didn't I tell you the Tories had hold of me?” replied the man, angrily. “Na, ye diina, for ye said they had kicked ye frae house and home.’ ‘And so they did at last; but when they let me go the fighting was over.”’ ‘*Over, mon? ha, but ye be not rieht there, for it will be mony a lon, year yet afore England lets the Colonies gang free.” * Glad of it, fur an then have a band in helping my country.” * Your country!” spoke the hot-blooded Frishman, who all along had been a most attentive listener to the conversation. “ Yuvr country! Ke me sowl, but there’s many a long mile betwixt this and your country!” ; “T was born here,” quickly replied the man, “Faith, that may be, but your heart’s over the ocean, and to my mind you're nothing but a sneak, and aspy, and a Tory; and by all “ hopes of par- don, if I had the minding of yon limb of tree, it would bend a little lower with the weight of your body tied to it by a rope round your neck,” “And were you alone, my olly loud-talking Jack, I'd soon make a hole in your body, that would show the light what you Inst had for dinner,”’ “Hold!” interrupted the calm, yet stern voice of Merton, who. attracted by the loud tones and pas- sionate accents of the angry speakers, had turned ust in time to intercept the blows that were about eing given and received. ‘Hold, Conway! Putup your knife, for you surely would not use it on a single man were he twice a foe, and—” “T beg your pardon, Mr. Merton, but this chap ain't the man he wants to seem. When T told him tlis minute what I thought of him, and what I'd do with him if I had my way. he didn’t speak much like a countryman—did he, Ronald?” “Na, sir, that he didna.” ‘““What were his words?” asked Merton, looking sternly at the fellow. . The man hastened to tell. and by the time he fin- in spite of have ished—for he added numerous opinions of his own— | they had arrived at a part of the road where it was bounded on one side by a dense wood, and on the other by a steep bank, The stranger, who had per- | 7 nee sistently followed—although Ronald had kept him in the rear—now weptee quickly to the front, and boldly addressed the lieutenant, throwing off the disguise of voice that hitherto he had used. “You have heard that man’s story, and I wish to inform you that he is perfectly right in his surmises, I dogged your footsteps when t you left your ship, and wished to make Ace’ acquaintance; but, partly owing to the rapidity of your movements, and also fearing your strength—for at the distance I was, I mistook your prisoners for members of your own party—I was frustrated in my wishes. his time I have been more successful, and am re- joiced to find that you consist of so. ivil and o/lic ing aparty. It is my desire to keep you company.” **And now I am determined you shall not,” re- plied Merton, the hot blood flushing to his brow in , crimson, “Then, sir, yo. must go with » ¢, whether or not,” he answered, looking full in the young man’s face with a sneering smile. As he finished speaking, he raised his hand to his mouth, evidently with the intention of uttering a signal; but the evil smile pa: sed from his face, and the spark of hatred died in his eye, as the cold 1uzzle of a pistol pressed his temple, and the voice of Merton hissed in his ear: “Make the slightest sound or give a single wave of your hand, and by the God who hears me, I will send your black soul to bis presence.” Raising his voice, thet the foe, who he felt convinced were lurking within the woods, could hear, be said: “TI have your leader in my power, and if one dog of you dares to show his. bead, it will be the signal for your captain’s death. Gather around me, my brave lads, with drawn swords and ready pace and if they wish to try our mettle they shall see how free men can fight. Move on slowly; and do you, Ronald and Conway, stand ready to cut down this fellow in case they fire on me,”” ‘ Cuutiously they proceeded, but, though occasional rustling was heard, not an assailant was seen. At last they emerged into the open country, and son the tall mast of the ship hove in sight. Feeling perfectly secure from attack, Merton re- placed his weapon, and with more hasty strides proceeded onward. The Nib gna was recor nized by one of the crew, as one of the most bloodthirsty fol- lowers of the king infesting that pert of the country. The day following he was bung at the yard-arm. Such was the way spies and betrayers were served in those times of war in earnest, CHAPTER VI. A MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE. Iris unnecessary to refer to the New York of 1776. It was then the “Great Metropolis” in embryc—a city of small dimensions but of magnificent promise. The * Battery’ and ** Bowlirg Green” were thin the great hearts of the commercial and social yorld —now, alas! they are so far down town” astole outlawed by gentility! Where now are acres of brick tuilding ard labyrinths of streets, then were swamps, hills, valleys, farms, ‘country scats ” and commons, Chambers street’ then was the utmost city limit—all was “the country” beyond. It will require no little stretch of the reader’s imagination to portray Broadway barricaded, together witli a)l the streets leading t it, to locate batteries on emi- nences behind Trinity church. A redoubt and bit- tery at Hellgate guarded the passage of enemies’ ships to and fro in the Sound, while the North River, and, in fact, all «ppugnable pcints, were put in a position of defense. General Lee saw thatthe Long Is’and heights was too important a position to be neglected, and at once commenced throwin, up a serics of intrench- ments at different points, one of which was lccated in the rear of the then small town of Brooklyn, and which is now, as then, known by the name of * Fort Greene.” On the sc utherly point of Long Island, and securely shut in from the sea by Coney Island, extends a deep cut, or, more properly, a bay, in which are numerous offsets and bayous. At the time we invite the reader's :ttention, and when all were actively at work preperirg for the coming foe, in one of these offsets lay, safely mocred and com- poeny hidden by the most ingenious contrivances, le Black Ship. After sailing from Peston, she bad, with .he most consummate skill of her commancer, succeeded in eluding observation, and arrived in the secluded bey to await the opy ortunity for service in t! e moment cf greatest need. Her crew were appr rc ntly asleep; yet that silence and ey parent inactivity were onin- cus of stern cuty, One cf the boats wasgone. It secmed os if the ship needed its return to spring into life and animation The sun bad set. Twilight hegan to gether slow- ly arcund, giving to ber usual L pei cutline a siill deeper hue, when the measured stroke of oars, ‘ell- ing of a crew well skilled in their handling, was heard, and 1 Loat sl ot in sight. The deserted deck was quickly enlivened by the forms of men who had so often pressed them in the din cf battle and anx- ious faces looked out upcn their returning com- races, eager to learn what tidings they had to com- municate, As the boat lightly touched tho ship’s side, and Merton sprung on deck. he was met by the captain, who, after leading him beyond the hearing of the crew, asked him what he had discovered. f “T carefully proceeded after leaving the ship,” answered the lieutenant, ‘‘narrowly wateting the shore, and inspecting all the inlets, until I struck the water running between Coney Island and the main shore, This I followed west until 1 arrived at Gravesend Bay. Here, sir, I discevered the vessels of theenemy. Fearful of approaching too close, I ran the boat near the shore, and landed two of the Se a _——-
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men, whom I ordered to proceed inland, while I re- mained with the boat. They had been gone over two hours whenI deemed it prudent to dispatch four others to look them up, but, as they were upon the point of starting, the two came in, and reported having found many of the enemy already landed, and their pickets were then advanced as far as New Utrecht.” “Then we will find it a difficult task to communi- ca‘e with our friends on shore, and as to the Roe- buck, itis impossible for us to find her, unless we receive information from the army,” said Captain Monmouth, thoughtfully. “Send off a land-part , and. let them try before the British advance further to reach the line of our pel suggested Merton, “But of what use would that be; for, did they succeed in reaching, how would they return?”’ “Tt will be a risk, I grant, but it might, perhaps, prove successful,” “Tiow far are they from us in force?” ** Not more than two miles and a half.” ‘Indeed !"’ exclaimed the captain, starting, “Yes, sir, and their pickets can not be more than a mile; besid.s, they certainly have scouting parties.” ‘Then we are in danger of being discovered?” “Excuse me, but 1 think not, They will scarcely think, of finding enemies hid away among all this sand. ‘You are, perhaps, right, Merton, but we will be wise in placing some of our men to picket the shore, You will see tuat they are arranged under proper heads, and relieved at stated hours. To return to the fleet—how are they?” ** All, Save one ship, are anchored under the pro- tecting guns of the war-vessels; that one seems to think precaution useless, for she lays full a mile to the east of her companions,” “What say you, if the morning light shows her still further off?” ‘‘All you have to do is to say the words ‘take her,’ and it shall be done.” “Tlik2 to hearit. You havethe order: Mr. Mer- hg will this night capture that ship or sink er,’ The young man at once set himself the task of selecting his crew, and also of arranging the guard on shore, The hour of mene y. a arrived, With muffled oars, three boats, loaded down with armed men, shot cut from the deep shadows of the vessel’s side, and wee rapidly toward the open water of the sea. ota word was spoken, Not a sound was heard, save the light splash of the oars; or the faint gur- gle of the water under the bows, On board the British vessel all was fancied security. The crew bad turned in, leaving a soli- tary man to watch. Even he nodded at his post, In the cabin, quite a party were gathered, where joy seemed to reign. Derision of *‘the Yankees”’ s-rved to season their entertainment, ‘* Well, sir, I must admit,’ remarked one of the com, any, addressing the captain of the vessel, ‘that they fight well. Look at Bunker Hl], and te j me if the men of any other nation, except our own, would have stood so valiantly as they.” “Stood!” ejaculated a young msn, in a contemp- tuous manner. ‘ Do you call standing behind pa works, and firing u protected, advance men?” “I do, sir, call the act brave, when we take into consideration that they were cevoid of all drill and discipline, and but pcorly armed. I tell you, gentle- men, that, had the Colonial troops not exhausted all their ammunition, we would have left Boston in a far different manner than we did, although, God knows, we didit then under fire and in more haste than I wished to see.”’ ‘* You seem to hold a high opinion of these rebels,” said the young man, ‘**As men, Ido; but as rebels, I despise them and their bravest deeds, But o.e thingin which Iam afraid our Government is mistaken, and when it is too late will discover, is, that these Colonies are weak, possessed of little or no strength to earry on the war. IfI mistake not, we shal! find that years will be consumed before we bring them under sub- jéction; and the Crown, although it has its hands ull elsewhere, should seud every man thatit can beg, borrow or hire to this land,” ** Allow me to offer a correction to your remark, as fo the number of years it will be required to sub- due the rising and determined spirit of America to be free, In place of several, insert an elernity of years.” At the entrance of the cabin stood the command- ing form cf Merton. His hand rested on the handle of his sword, while his eye was lit up with the flush of anger and superiority. : “Who are you?” demanded the captain of the vessel, angrily, as he sprung to his feet to confront his visitor. ‘Your superior on board this vessel; your equal as man to man,’’ was the firm reply. ‘By heavens, we will try that matter with sharp- er tools than words,” replied the captain, as he = a cutlass from its peg, and advanced, menac- iugly. e A good motto, and one I would advise you, at this time especially, to adopt, is, to think well before you act,’’ remarked the young man, in a contemp- tuous manner, “This insult is beyond endurance, and one that must be resented,’’ said the officer, stepping to the captain’s side, ‘| will explain to you, gentlemen, a few things that may be extremely unpleasant to hear. Your vessel has changed owners, and you are prisoners)” n our gallant troops, who, un- upon them, the act of brave Sth ’ s . The Black Ship. “Prisoners!” they all exclaimed at a breath. ‘* Exactly.” ** What hot on deck!’’ shouted the captain, “Signal the fleet, for there is treachery here!’ ‘*T have no doubt your men hear, but, as they are in durance vile, it is beyond their power to obey,” replied Merton, to the captain’s order, ‘Did I understand you to say that this vessel is captured ral “You did.” “And without my being aware of it?”’ “*T am so inclined to think.” ‘And by what vessel?” “None at all; but by boats under my command.” , “And who are youf”’ “Harold Merton, second officer on board the Black Ship,’’ was answered, proudly. ‘““Onee of his Majesty’s service, I believe?” re- marked the captain, after recovering from the sur- prise the mention of the vessel’s name had made, “T was, but now, thank God, my life is devoted to the liberty of my adopted country, Death Ido not shun while battling in her cause.’ ‘**Young man, your words should blister your tongue with—”’ ‘* Hold, sir,’’ interrupted Merton, sternly, ‘‘I do but hear the same from every Englishman whenever we chance to meet, and I tire of if. You think America wrong; I, that she is right; so for the sake of spar- ing words, if for naught else, let us refrain from speaking of it further,” ‘‘As you please, young man; I still have my opinion of you.”’ ‘**Think me a devil, if you will, but have a care the thought does not find utterance, for, should the slightest whisper reach my ear 1 shall forget you are my prisoner, and offer you violence. But enough of this,” he added, controlling bis anger by a strong effort, and speaking more calmly. ‘‘Lay your weapons upon that table, gentlemen, and follow me to the deck,” This command was at once obeyed. Without a word, the revelers all left the cabin. ’ The manner in which the capture had been effect- ed was, from its extreme sie a completely successful. Ronald removed his clothing when the boats had arrived as near as prudence would war- rant, and swam slowly onward. A large bunch of sea-weed he knotted as firmly as possible, and keep- ing it on that side of his head against which the tide struck, allowed himself to float down toward the vessel. The ship’s bows were soon reached, A line was found, and after ascertaining that it was made fast, the seaman carefully ascended, hand over hand, to the deck. Peering over her bulwarks, his eye encountered the figure of the solitary watch, who, leaning against the mainmast, seemed entirely pot sting, ne the voices that reached him from the cabin. peliamionastyacd that the remainder of the crew were either below or had left the ship, he lizhtly stepped on deck and cautiously neared the man. When within a short distance, a quick bound, a heavy blow, and his foe lay insensible at his feet. Hasti'y securing him by means of the ropes that lay near at hand, he proceeded to signal the boat’s crew of his success. Searching the pockets of the pros- trate man, he found to his satisfaction a tinder-box, which, together with a strand of tarred rigging, were the neces: articles. he wished. He next proceeded to the ship’s side, and leaning well over, ignited the rope. Allowing it to burn brightly fora moment, he cast it into the water. What followed can be readily conjectured, The first that her cap- tain knew of the ‘change of owners’”’ was when so informed by the entrance of Merton, All of value that the ship contained was in money, of which there was quite a harvest. The treasure and the prisoners were removed, holes were made in the ship’s bottom, and she was left tosink. Before the small boats reached their rendezvous, the British ship had gone down as silently as if a shadow had passed away. When daylight broke, the enemy was astounded to find her gone. CHAPTER VIL. ASHORE ADVENTURES, THE morning following the events last narrated, three men could have been seen, at an early hour, wending their way as if in search of some person whom, at any moment, they might encounter. They were dressed in the uniform of the British navy, and ‘rolled along ’”’ in that peculiar manner charac- teristic of the true ‘‘old salt.” So well were they disguised, that were it not for the tell-tale voice of Ronald, and the hasty humor of Conway, they would pass as strangers to the soil. Their companion was none other than Lieutenant Merton, ‘* Keep a sharp look-out, for their pickets can not be far from here, and, if the thing is possible, I wish to avoid them. If I find we can not do this, we must endeayor to see them first, so that we can ap- proach without creating suspicion,’? remarked the young man, ‘*Could na we keep further to the east, sir, and then belike we might gi’e them a slip?” asked Ronald. “Tam afraid not,” replied Merton, ‘‘ for they most certainly have placed guards from their main body entirely across the bay.” ‘Look at yonder chap, sir,” called Conway, in a low tone; ‘by me faith, but he’s giving us a mags of what he can do in the way of handling iece. “Don’t point,’ quickly ordered Merton. ‘‘I see him, and be’s signaling to discover whether we are friends or no, Let me precede you, and remember who you represent. You, Conway, be guarded with your temper, and in no case, no matter what the provocation may be, let either word or action betray who you are.” ——— " ee oat sear: Me aa “e ee ae eo otal or at a a a He then stepped a few paces in advance and stop- ped. The soldier still ra on signaling, but receiv- ing no answer, brought piece to his shoulder, as if about to fire. Merton instantly called out, in a voice which barmonized with his assumed charac- ter: ‘* Avast there, you long-shore lubber, with that wos What are you going todo? shoot an English sailor?’ The man lowered his piece, and. turning} beckoned to a companion who was hidden from view. Soon a corporal with a file of men was seen approaching, ‘For the last time, I warn you both to keep a wise head and a close tongue,” hurriedly remarked Mer- ton. ‘‘My blood be on your heads if you fail my orders.” “‘ Dinna fear, sir, but we will baith be canny,”’ said Ronald. f ‘* Well, what do you want. and what are fog doing outside the lines?” asked the corporal as he balted his party a little.distance from them. ‘‘ First, Mister Corporal,’’ replied Merton, gruffly, ‘*we don’t want to get a hole punched into us be- tween wind and water, seeing we ain’t enemies; and next, we happened to be outside of your lines, as you call them, because wedid not find enrhere to keep us in, and being out on a cruise without chart or compass, we got afoul of sand-hills, and one thing or another, until we might have run into an enemy’s port, for all we’d have known.” ‘Where do you want to go to?” “We belong to the Rocluck, and won’t mind lay- ing glass on her again, if we know the direction in which she lays.” “T don’t know where your vessel is, but you can find out from the officer of the picket.” “Which way does the ocean lay from here, for if we can get a sight of that, we can do well erough by ourselves.”’ ‘It’s off this way,’’ replied. the soldier, pointing toward the south-west; * but you'll have Lo be ex- amined byour officer before I can allow you to ass.” - a Listen to that, lads,’? exclaimed Merton, with a loud laugh. ‘The Yankees gave these soldiers sucha scare at Boston that they’re afraid to trust a man, no matter how he’s dressed, or where he hails from. Heave ahead, Mister Corpora), for we'll let your officer examine us. He’ll find we are as good copper-bottomed, English-oaked man-of-war’s-men, as ever sailed into his quarters.”’ They proceeded on some quarter of a mile or more, when they were ushered into the prenence of the officer commanding that division of the picket uard, ) “TI found these men, sir.”’ said the corporal, with asalute, “‘on our extreme right, approaching our lines.” : ‘*Which way were they coming?” ‘*From the south, sir.”’ - ; ‘And chcir manner—was it suspicious?” ‘*Not inthe Jeast, sir. They came up as if they didn’t know what a guard was posted for.” . ad How about this, my lads—where did you come rom? “From the Roebuck, your Honor,” replied Mer- ton, twirling his bat in his hand, and seeming ill at ease, ‘* How long since you left your. ship?” “ Ten days, sir.” This was said ata venture, but the young man happened to stumble on the right answer, for the next question assured him of this, giving him a clew how to answer further questions. ‘Let me see,” said he, referring toa book lying before him, and rapidly turning over the leaves. ‘“‘Ah, here itis. ‘Frigate Roebuck changed station, to operate with the advance guard, She will pro- tect the left flank, which will extend to the water.’ It ig now a week since she sailed, and you left her ten days ago, you say ?” “Yes, sir.” ‘‘How came you on shore?” he asked, sharply. ss Had three days’ leave, and stayed over time, sir.’ ‘What was the cause?” ‘Well, sir, it’s a failing we Jacks have. We hap- pened in with some friends, and took a litile too much ale.” ‘But you came in on ourright flank, while you should have approached our left. How happened that? “*T don’t know, sir, unless our heads were mud- dled, and we lost our way,” replied Merton, looking down, as if ashamed. “You are honest-looking fellows, end wear the right kind of cloth, so] will pass you, without fur- ther parley, to where you can be forwarded to your ship.” The sailors thanked him, and, taking the pass which was handed them. bowed themselves from his presence, Arriving cutside, Merton glanced at the paper, and, to his chagrin, found it read, “ Pass these men wit/7n the lines.” “This is bad,’’ said he, a perplexed look resting on his countenance. ‘““ What, sir?” inquired Ronald. : ee pass grants us leave to travel within their ard,’ oe Then, sir, let us make a bauld strake, and fight our way through.” “ Ay, ay, sir; that’s the plan. Do es Ronald says, for by me blessed father’s aoa but we're good for six of them. and if it comes to a push, Ill take three of them alone,” said Conway, eagerly. ; “T am afraid we shall have to do so, for, to reach the American lines I am determined, if we fight every inch of our way through.” . The delay occasioned by their detention, with the numerous halts the guards compelled them to make, . oot on ~ > % iy oe A-7 fe
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v bd had brought th toward the middle of the after- moon, and, as nothing had passed their lips since pa ames the gnawings of hunger were being keenly felt. Not wishing to exhaust the little food they had, they set to work looking about for some house or inn where they could procure refreshment. From the brow of a hill they perceived a house in the val- jey to the right. Aroundit could be seen numerous persons, and, tied to the tree, were several horses evidently belonging to a party of dragoons, “T shall wait until the sun has set for those fel- lows yonder to leave, though our disguise is good, and we could evidently pass unquestioned. Still, there is not the most renga Ear pe existing be- tween soldiers and sailors. o doubt they are drinking, and perhaps might drop some remarks we might feel inclined to resent,”’ remarked Merton, he men, without reply, seated themselves, and patiently waited the further orders of their leader, the sun sunk behind the distant woods, the word as given, and all haste was made to reach the house. The building had been converted into an inn, evidently without the least attempt at show. The sign was the figure of a man, hy to repre- sent a king, with a crown upon his head, whose points resembled a picket fence, and the scepter very like a sonaatcy ere Underneath were the scarcely legible words: ‘‘The King’s Arms.” The ‘interior was in keeping with the outside; and Mer- ton, seating himself at one of the long, dirty tables, inquired as to what the house afforded in the way of food. Asit consisted of a single dish, the selection was readily made, and much to the astonishment of call, unlike the filthy appearance of the place, the food was plain and palatable. It was eaten witha relish. After hunger was satisfied, Merton avose, and going to the till, paid the demand. He was on the point of retracing his steps, when a half-drunken soldier, one of a party of seven who were seated at the further cxtremity of the room, placed himself directly in his way. “Well, m fine sea-water animal, where did you come from?” be asked, placing his hands on his hips and looking impudently into the young man’s face, “From outside, and if that ain’t enough for youto know, from my ship,’’ replied Merton, in as careless ta manner as he could assume, **Where’s your ship?” ‘‘On top of the water, if she ain’t underneath.” “Took here, my fine fellow,” said the soldier, speaking angrily, while several of his companions gathered closer about him, “if you don’t want to ' get a broken head, you had better answer a little amore civil.” “It's very true that I don’t want to get my head broke, and what’s more, don’t intend to; but what right have you to ask me where I came from, or to what ship I belong?” “Because I want to find out something about Tou. and I mean to. You see, my jolly sea-dog, I ave been with you chaps for a while back, and have kad more kicks than kisse@ so I don’t feel over and above friendly to any of you short-coats, and would as lieve have a falling out, together with a lit le fight, as not.” ‘Then fight with those who have given you «ause?’’ quickly replied Merton, and in his natural voice, attempting to pass. “No, you don’t, mv fine fellow,” said one of the others, stepping by his companion’s side and effect- ually blockading the way. ‘No you dou’t, till we have a better look at you. Dd you hear, boys, how this chap can talk when ho’s a mind to? Let’s take him and his companions along to quarters, for Iswear if { believe they’se friends to the king, in spite of their dress.”’ . Merton saw at once that his situation was becom- ing perilous, and that the soldier who now confront- ed him was quick to notice and prompt to act. ““What do you take me for?” he asked, with per. fect self possession, ‘Perhaps atraitor, and maybe a spy. But we'll find out.” ‘** Here—look at my paper!’’ he remarked, extend- ing the pass. The so}dier made a rapid movement as if to snatch it; but Merton quickly withdrew :is hand, at the same time saying: : “Not quite so fast, for I sha’n’t trust it with you. If Iwas aspy I wouldn’t have this; so if you like you ean take a look, but you don’t take hold,” “Tf you're what you say you are, you wouldn't be afraid to trust me with your pass!” You ain’t quite rizht, comrade. I’m afreid to ‘trust you because this friend of yours says he wouldn’t mind having a fight; and as you side with him I suppose you're of the same mind. Perhaps ‘you would like to get me in limbo so as to spite Yourselves on me for what other seamen might have done to you, and the only way you can do that is by _ «wtealing this paper.” “There’s some reason in that, and I might have ‘been a little fast,” he replied, after a pause. “1 an’t forget, though, the way you spoke; but Ill et you go if you'll answer me a question,”’ *"Let me go!’’ exclaimed Merton with some tem- r; “vou had better get hold of me bofore you alk of letting me go!”’ “You say you’re a man-of-war’s-man?”’ he ques- tioned, without heeding the remark. . Yes,” * What's your ship’s name?”’ “The Roebuck.” *“ Where is sne?” “She's with the advance along the coast.” While Merton was thus quietly allowing himself to be questioned. the two sailors were not idle, _ Ronald had left the room, and shortly returned with three stout, heavy sticks, onc of which he handed Conway, who received it with evident satisfaction. eee _ o The Black Ship. ‘*Now, by the powers, I’m ready as soon as Mr, Merton gives the word,’’ he mg ey to Conway, “and if I was he, I’d not stop talking to that chap any longer.” ‘Na, mon, nor I either,” replied Ronald, The soldier continued eet wag Nye the young man, who answered without showing the least temper, s command, and Merton determined to submit no onger. ‘*You may cut your questions short, for Iam de- termined to answer you no longer.” ‘Just as you like. my jolly Jack; but if you're all British you won’t mind saying, ‘God save the At last his tone began to partake too much evasively. But that ain’t quite the way you've got to say * Got to, have I? Now stand out of my way, for I sha’n’t be stopped by you any longer.” “But I won't, youngster.” “Then I'll put you out,” and before the man was aware of his intention, he struck him a blow that beg have felledanox. Thesoldier fellat Merton’s eet. “At them, my brave lads, for it’s fight now in earnest. Save life if you can avoid it, but break as many heads, Conway, as you please,” he shouted, as, springing over*vhe prostrate ee he placed him- self by their side. Receiving the heavy club from Renald, he rushed back into thofray. Right man- fully did tho three bear themselves, and so complete- ly were the soldiers taken by surprise, that, before they could eatin their arms, they were laid sense- reds the blows which were dealt with no niggardly and, “Faith, and you're the last, my robin red-breast, and yo'll wake with a pain in your head, I’m think- ing,” said Conway, as with his powerful arm he let his club fall on the head of the remaining soldier, * Follow me at once.”’ ordered Merton, speaking in his usual tone. ‘‘ We have not a moment to lose, for this will soon be nvised abroad, and our escape will be entirely cut off.” They turned as if loth to leave, and followed their leader out into the gathering d lost to sight. The afternoon of the day following, Merton and Ronald arrived within the American lines. Conwa was not with them, having been ordered the difficult task of finding his way back to the ship and to re- va on had been learned respecting the OPDUCK, The two were dressed as when they left their vessel, except that their jackets were unbuttoned, revealing upon the breast of their shirts the words Black Ship, worked in distinct letters. Merton at once set about finding the commanding officer, but he found it a task of great difficulty. It was lon after sundown before his att»mpt proved successful, Arriving at General Greene’s headquarters, he was informed, much to his disappointment, that an in- terview could not be obtained, no matter how im- portant the news he had to communicate, as the pracy was lying extremely ill of a fever. He was irected to General Sullivan, but deferred the inter- view until the following morning. An early hour found him closeted with the general, who appeared much pleased at meeting him. ** So you are attached to the Black Ship?” he said, with an approving smile, ‘‘Tam proud to say I am, sir,’ replied Merton. “How far were tho enemy, when through their lines, from our outposts?’ “Not more than three miles, [ should say. Tam inclined to think, however, that the British troops have not all landed, for the bay is not sufficiently full of transports to warrant it.” “ Where is your ship, Lieutenant Merton?” “Laying hid from sigot in a cove that sets into the mainland, and directly back of Coney Isiand. Cap- tain Monmouth’s intention is to attack or draw off the English man-of-war Roebuck, if possible, for I doubt not but she will tender valuable service to the enemy, and cause havoc and death in our lines.” “You are right, sir, for already s me of our poor fellows have fallen before her shot. She carries heavy guns, and I am fearful will prove too formid- ablo an adversary for your ship to encounter.” “She may, sir, but Captain Monmouth is a man of prudenee; what ho lacks in metal he fully re- places by stratagem. It will be tmpossible, general, for me to return to my vessel; and as every arm that can raise a weapon for our sufiering country is needed, I should like to be assigned a eta where { can be useful. Tf this cannot be done shall bave to fight on my own responsib'lity; but I am sure I shall feel more valiant. and strike a firmer oo bg were I to battlo under the control of a good eader.” “Your wish is rranted, sir,” replied the general, hastily writing a note and handing it to Merton. “Take this to Lord Stirling; he will assign you to some post. Now, good-by, and God be with you. It may be that we shall never meet again; but should wo fall, let our dying moments be made sweet by the thoughts that we find our graves battling for one of the noblest causes man ever engaged in. Good- by. Mr. Merron,”’ s by two parted with o warm pressure of the and, arkness, to be soon you passed CHAPTER VI, Tum DOUBLE CONFLICT, Tor moment was rapidly drawing near when the infant colonies were about to = their first pitch- ed battle agains! that country whose banners floated on every sea, The twenty-second of August came, mo 0 ‘He never did me harm, and when his hour comes I hope God will save the king,” replied Merton, 1 9 The entire British forces landed on Long Island. Instant information of this was sent by means of the chain of pickets; but, as if to nerve the arm of the eight thousand eight hundred brave sons of America who had resolved ** to conquer or to die,’’ came the he pe of the si sane of the English eet at Fort Moultrie. Four days afterward, the army of their foe was ready for the attack. Its line extended from the coast, between Gravesend and Utrecht, to Flatbush and Flanders, Between the two armies what a contrast! On one side the hardy, undisciplined yeomen; on the other the well-trained soldiers, used to carnage and the din of battle. Here the homespun garments of the Continental; there the gaudy, well-kept uniforms of the Briton; here tho rusty sword, the musket snatched from the peg over the family hearthstone and the few blood-bought pieces of cannon; opposed were the polished arms, the abundance of ammuni- tion, and the glistening parks of artillery, With the one the confidence of victory, the obedience to offi- cers, and the fatal idea of ped ae their antag- onists; with the other the love of country, of home the justice of their cause, but, above ell, the tie of brotherhood, and the resolve to do or die. Thus stood our forefathers—tbus let us ever stand. It was a calm night, The full harvest-moon threw her flood of light over the hilltop and down into the valleys; her beams fell upon the slumbering forms of soldiers who lay in the open air. Near every hand lay a weapon ready to be grasped. Every ear seemed half open to catch the first tap of the signal-drum, The night wore on, and the clouds that had risen chased themselves sluggishly across the moon’s pale face. But, hark! The sbarp re- port of musketry is heard in the distance. The pene hig sound roused the American camp into ac- tivity. Among the first to hear that sound was Merton. He quickly formed the little band of scouts which Lord Stirling had placed under his control, and anxiously waited the other to move, News soon came from the distant pickets that their foe was ad- vancing, and that the Delaware troops, under Colonel Allen, were retreating slowly before the overwhelming force hurled against them. The order for Merton to advance soon came. He was directed to scout the road leading to the Nar- rows, keeping, however, close enough to enable bim to readily communicate with the troops following. With cautious steps, the band started forward. Its progress was unbinterrupted, until near daybreak, when the Delaware regiment was met, together with the retiring pickets. Merton instantly threw his little force to the front, where the rifles of his men sent many of the foe to their last account, Lord Stirling, as soon as information reached bim, formed his two regiments along an advantageous ridge ascending from the road, to a piece of wood on the top of a ill, The brave Delawares halted and reformed, while the pickets, rallying on Mer- ton’s force, received the advancing columns of the British with well-directed volleys. A warm engage- ment ensued, Their assailants, however, proved too strong, for it was soon ascertained that they consisted of two full brigades under General Grant. The Americans were again compelled to fall back. They took poe onan eminerce opposite Lord Stir- ling’s position, and co-operated with Kichlin’s riflo corps, whose deadly fire mowed down the compact columns of the foe as fast as woe ap ed. Thus the battle became general, and well did Merton merit the position to which he kad been assigned. He was ever foremost in the fight, urging his men by voice and example, to most strenuous efforts; and they, catching his spirit, rushed with such im- petuosity upon the foe that the line of his front be- gan to waver. Suddenly a heavy firing was heard in their rear. Every band ‘was stayed. Again volley after volley broke upon their ear, and they became conscious of the fearful truth that the enemy had succeeded in turning their flank, Dismay and confusion follow- ed. No longer were the advancing Hessians deter- minedly faced; but, in spite of the efforts of their generals to rally them, the Continental troops broke and attempted to return to theircamp. Vain was the effort. On every side they encountered the drawn sabers or glistening bayonets of the foe. They were driven hither and thither, cut off from all the avenues of escape, and slaughtered with scarce a show of resistance, Merton, finding that retreat lay through the ene- my’s ranks, in few words informed his men of the fact, and proposed that they should hew their way through to freedom. This gallant proposition was received with ashout of approbation, Augmenting his forces from the numerous strageclers that sur- rounded them, he rrranged his ranks, and then led them to the work, Skirting the base of the eminence which they had so lately occupied, he wound his way, choosing the shelter of the more thickly wood- ed part, until, by the din, he was made aware that they had arrived near encugh for him to put into operation his hastil --formed plan. Selecting a few of the bravest. he put them under Ronald’s charge, and ordered them forward, while he effectually concealed the remainder behind a lit- tle bluff, which lay to their right. there to await the result that he hop:d the Scotchman would effeet. Roland had not proceeded far, when he suddenly came unonthe enemy. Fora timehe made adeter- mined fight: then, giving the word his party gave waPalowly at first. but soon broke into whee re- treat, leading his pursuers direc: ly into the ambush prepared by Merton, The Hessians were received with a volley, that caused perfect havoc in their ranks; and before time was given them to re-form ho ordered the reserve set apart, to fire. Then, ero the smoke had cleared away, he charged upon them
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10 ~The Black Ship. in force, and with two-thirds of his command, reached their rear. Here he once more haited and closed hisranks. What was his sorrow to learn that Ronald was nuwhere to ba found. It was no time then to look for missing men. The order was given, and the band moved on, ‘his ‘forlorn hope” had gone somewhat over a mile, when a sharp firing was heard alittle toward their right. Merton, think- ing perhaps it might be the Scotchman, at once started to the rescue. Arriving within sight, he ob- served a band of brave men, contending with a force treble their number. His generous nature was fired at the sight. * Wha Prt See my men?” said he, turning to his followers. ‘Shell we leave yonder party of coun- trymen to their fate, and make our escape, or go to their tm **Lead on—we'll follow,”’ was the resolute answer. “ Boarders, away!” shouted the young man, for- Ss that he was not leading a pers of his own ardy sea-dogs. Waving his sword above his head, he started to the rescue. The combatants heard the shout, and while the Americans grasped their arms with firmer hands, and dealt their blows with steruer foree, the English hastily attempted to put their forces in position to meet the charge. On came Merton with the velocity of a tempest, and hurled himself upon their center with such im- petuosity, that everything gave way before him. it was but for a moment, however; for, by the ex- ertions of their officers, the British trcops held firm, and the carnage became fearful. The enemy had yet the advantage of numbers, but the detcrmina- tion of their assailants was irresis:ible. They began to waver, when the loud report of a piece of ord- nance met their ear’, and a ball went whistling over their heads. The contending parties at once paused to ascertain against which party the missile was directed, Through a break in the trees, the open water could be seen; and while they gazed, a rush of smoke wafted in sight. The next instant the frigate Roe- buck appeared upon tae scene, The rumbling of the cannon could be still heard, when a fainter re- port met their ears; and, as the view of the ae was extensive, they saw at a distance the dark hull of a vessel standing, with all sails set, for the man- of-war. The conflict, for the time, was ended; and, as before said, both par ies stood gazing on the vessels. Merton saw ata genee, that the approach- ing sail was the Black Ship. He felt a paug of re- et that he had volunteered td pass through the ritish lines, He had thus deprived himself of be- ing one of the number to engage in tac battle now pending. Ashe gazcd he saw his ship fly up in the wind, and a wreath of smoke curl from her sides, The Roebuck had ceased her firing after throw- ing her second shot; but now, as if aware of this new danger, and wishing to do all the damage he could to his enemy on hand, the British commander succeeded in obtaining a good range, and opened with all the guns he could bring to bear upon the Americans, strewing death and disorder in their ranks, Acting upon this signal, the foc again com- menced the attack with such vigor, that, had not the watchful Merton prepared for the assault, his men would have been annihilated. Alas, for the success of the Americans. Their leader went dewn with a blow, dealt by a niggardly hand, and the Continental troops fled in confusion, leaving him wounded and a prisoner. The battle of Long Island was fought, yet we can not say lost, although the cnemy remained pos- sessors of thefield. The reader might tire, did we: give a detailed account; yet, had we done so, it would have been seen how well planned and admir- ably executed were the maneuverings of the British, Every pass leading to Brooklyn the Athericans had guarded, save one; by this unprotected point had the foe been enabled to decide the fortunes of the day, and turn the American flank. Had General Greene been able to command, this disaster would not have occurred; and the road from Jamaica to Bedford—which was the pass unguarded—would have been held by a force sufficient in number to have made the result a fardifferent one. General Putnam, the wolf hero, and a warrior of the true stamp, was compelled to remain within his fortifi- cations. All the assistance he could render the field forces was by sending small detachments to meet and check as much as possible the advance of the enemy. Lord Stirling had bravely contested the ground, inch by inch, with General Grant, until the frigate Roebuck had opened fire in bis rear, upon the battery at Red Hook. Washington witnessed the disaster, and his great heart was wrung with anguish when word was brought that the American army was retreating. The violent rain on the twenty- eighth had kept both armies apart; but the following night tho British broke ground, within easy range of Fort Greene, and the body of their army was com- ing up by slow but sure approaches. On the morning of the thirticth a British sentinel could have been seen lazily welking his beat, now and then glancing at the American lines, where a suspicious silence reigned. “Tho Yankees must be asleep or dead,” he at length remarked, ‘‘ for I haven’t heard a word from them this morning.” **Did you last nicht?” asked the one addressed. “Yes; they made noise enough for a larger army than they have,” ** Perhaps they have left,’ was remarked by an- ther, * Don’t think they have,” neplied the first speaker, “for we’re toosharp tolet them out of the trap they’re in.” * | don't know about that; but, to male sure, sup- pose three of us crawl up and take a look,” 0 This bet dete was agreed upon, and they ac- cordingly cautiously advanced toward the American lines. The nearer they approached, the more the became convinced that no one was to be found. They crossed the well-worn pathway of the outer breastwork, but all was still. At last they ascended the fort, carefully peered over the wall; all was de- en or even the smallest thing was left of any value. “They’ve gone!’ burst from their lips at once, “But where?” Out on the river, and beyond the range of their guns, could be seen the last barge load of the Am- erican forces. In asmall beat which followed last, stood a tail figure, with folded arms, anda smile resting upon his countenance. He seemed the Sree spirit of the destinies of that army, and of his country. It was George Washingtor. The alarm was spread, but it was too late, for the army of the Republic was safe. When Mer‘on was stricken down, the Black Ship had arrived as near the frizate as her prudent commander judged safe. Her ports then few open and a cutting fire with her heaviest guns greeted the somewhat surprised Briton. The British commander returned the com- liment with iron hail, and extended sail after sail in pursuit of his daring foe. Captain Monmouth’s instructions were not to allow his formidable antag- oni*t to close in with him. but to lead him away, and thus draw the destructive fire which was bein p ‘ured upon his friends on shore. This he succeed- ed in doing till, knowing that the issue of the battle must have been decided, he crowded on all the sail his ship could carry and made good his escape. CHAPTER IX. RONALD ON A SEARCH. On a dark, stormy night, some months after the events narrated in the last chapter, a man was has- tening along the streets of New York. He seemed not to mind the floods of rain that poured upon him. Wrapping his large cloak still closer around him, he burried along, muttering his discontent in a low tone. The wind blew around the corners of the street in fitful gusts, rattling the window-shutters and causing the sign-boards to creak like the sad screech's of some wandering spirit. The street- lamps sent out a sickly, flickering glare of light across the drenched pavements, which only made the traveler’s way more dreary. The distant splash and roar of the North and East rivers could be heard as their angry waters smote the shore, The man kept on, now passing through the pitchy darkness of some lane or byway, or else threading a more cpen strect, until be paused in front of what evidently was an inn or boarding-hous?, through the chinks of whose shutters streamed rays of cheerful light, Unhesitatingly he entered, without knocking. Groping his way along the dark entry, he opened a door to the right, and found himself within a well- lighted room. Remaining closely enveloped in his oak until well satisfied none were present save the landlord and his son he removed his mufflings, when the well-remembered face of Ronald was revealed. * By all that’s good, Ronald, where did you come from?” asked the astonished landlord in a strong north of England accent, shaking the hand of his friend heartily. ‘“Frae me hame—as I ca’ it—over the river,” he replied, return the other’s grasp. ‘Bless my soul, man; but you must have some- thing that won’t brook delay to tempt you out hp night as this, and to cross an angry river at ‘*It be a matter of gude or ill to one mon,” he re- plied, adding, ‘but ha’e ye not a room where I can chat a while wi’ ye, for it binna safe for me to be seen by mony nowaday?”’ * Ay, that I have, and as it is a bleak and stormy night I would like a social bit of talk with you.” It binna so much for my ainsell I ask it, as for the cause.” “Ah!” exclaimed the landlord, quickly. ‘* Then ou’ve struck out bouldly since we last net, which s better than a twelve-month?” “Ay ha’e I, as ye can see frae this.”’ replied Ronald, opening his jacket and pointing to the let- ters worked on his bosom. ‘*Come along, old friend!’ was the quick ejacu- lation, ‘‘for tho man that wears the name of that ship about him finds a friend and helper in me, come what will.” Leading the way to a room situated in the most remote part of the house, he closed and securely fastened the door, , ‘Here we can speak out and no fears of being in- terrupted,’’ he said, seating himself. ‘‘ Now, what ean I do for you?” The seaman narrated the many adventures he had passed through up to tho present time, and also the manner of his escape, also the loss of his com- mander. “T ha’c been trying to cam’ to New York for mony a long while, but ha’e not had a chance till noo. ‘ ‘* What brings you at this time?’’ “ At the battle o’ Long Island my officer, Mr. Mer- ton, was taken prisoner and brought here, I ha’e na heard aught o’ him since then, and ha’e cam’ now to seek him out,” ‘*Let me see. What did you say his name was?” is Harold Merton, who wa’ first lieutenant o’ the **Merton? Ah, now I remember, © He was tried as a SPY and condemned to be hung.”’ ‘Hung?’ echoed the Scotchman, ppuaneing to his feet. ‘They ha’e not done it? If they ha’‘e, by a’ that’s gude in heaven or bad in hell, not a mon 0’ tiniest eer en Feo nee ny them shall live to tell it lang, if I be bueraly enough to strake a knife to his heart!”’ “They haven’t hung him yet,” hastily replied his companion; “but it’s said he will be in a week. They gave him but a short trial, for it seems there was a couple of officers who wanted him made away with at once. Their names, 1 think, were Moore and Walton—one a captain, the other a lieutenant.” “IT ken them baith weel. But wa’ there a young leddie wi’ him that ye ken of?” ‘*No, I never heard of one.” —— remained silent for a time; at length he said: “JT want ye to help me if youcan to get Mr. Merton safe frae jail. I tell thee, mon, I binna sic a chap as would let him dee without gi’en a hand to save him if I can. Where be he?” “T can’t exactly tell you, Ronald; but. if I can do any thing to help you I will, right gladly. There’s John can tell where he is imprisoneu,.”’ “Then gang at once and ask for the laddie, for be it far or near, I dinna care, I shall gang to it this night, and a burdly place it maun be that I canna make a hole through.” The landlord did as requested, and shortly return- ed with the information that the prison was but a short walk from his house near the river. This. pleased Ronald well, and he began forthwith to make his preparations and lay bis plans. ‘Ken ye a Mr. Snowden, who came frae Geor- gia?’ he asked. ‘*I think there’s such a gentleman who lives in ay Beceme’s street.’’ ‘* Has he any leddies wi’ him, or be he alone?” “He has twothat I know of; but there may be more,”’ ‘*“What may the twa be like?” ‘They be mother and daughter I think, and they call the younger Clara.” ‘““That be she!” exclaimed Ronald, with much ap- dea A satisfaction. ‘‘ Will you show me where she ives? “I'll send John; he knows the house better than I. Will that do?” “Tdinna care who gangs wi’ me, so Jong as I get” there and ha’e speech wi’ her. I'll tell thee, mon, more on’t, and then ye can judge for your ainsell. The Black Ship stopped at the coast o’ Georgia for Mr, Merton to ha’e a chat wi’ the bonnie lass—for they baith loved each ither weel—but when he came to the house, who should be there but twa British officers. Mr. Merton be na coward, but ss bauld a mon as iver trod the deck 0’ aship; and kenning there maun be hot words between them did they meet, he had C nway and myself, wi’ a party o’ the ship’s men, gang wi’ him. The chaps he bade lie hid till I piped a signal, while Conway and me went. wi’ him and stopped by the hall door. He had na bin gon’ lang, when he gi’ed us aca’ aud when we got in we saw that they wanted to make him a prisoner, The officer—Captain Moore—called in his men, but when I blew my whistle and the bc nnie lads o’ the ship cam’ in frae doors and windows, he wa’ laith to let usa’ go free, The leddiecam’ out , wi’ us, andI heard himca’ her Clara, 1 dinna think she kens he is to dee, else she wouldna be so still, and ye would ha’e heard something of it.” ‘*You want to see her then, and together mean to fends some way of getting Mr. Merton free. Is that tr’ Yes ” **] don’t know how you will make out, but I’m in- clined to think you're going to try more than you can manage.” ‘* But canna ye help us?” * No, I'm too well known. But draw up a little closer, and [ll tell you something. It isn’t safe, in these times, to speak very loud. because you don’t know at what moment ree will be brought up, and walls, you know, are said to have ears ” an did as requested, and the landlord con- nued: “Yor a long time back, John has been in the ser- vice of the Colonies, and he’s nothing more nor less than a spy. He’s a large, unwieldy lcoking chap, and seems too innocent to do the king any harm; but if ey tame him for a fool, they'll find out their mistake before long, Vl warrant. Now, nothing would please him better than to take hold of this thing with you, and, if you think he’ll be of any ser- vice, be shall go.” “ Most sure I’ll ha’ve him gang, for twa hands are eee than ane,” he replied, as he rose from bis seat. ; “Then let’s tell him, for if you intend seeing the young lady to-night, you haven’t any time to lose;’" and so saying they left the room. As his father had rightly con jeptarted John as- sented without hesitation, and, after whispering to bis father, left the room. He had been gone some ten or fifteen minutes, when the door of the room leading to the hall opened, and a man entered. Seating himself with the familiarity of one com- pletely at home, he rapped loudly on the table, witb- out deigning so much as a glance at either Ronald or mine host. In stature he was short, yet largely made, and his dress bespoke him one of the original settlers of the city. His face was round. and of a Sac mcg ny expression, while its reddish hue at- sted to his fondness for beer, “Vat for you don’t comes, ven I raps so loud as [ can, and pring me my pint of beer?” he hastliy asked. while his voice had in its tone a sprinkling of anger. “IT beg your pardon,” replied the landlord, hurry- ing to him. ‘‘ What will you have?” i “T t'inks you give me some like vat I had de udder night,” As the wished-for beverage was placed before - | / 4 | aes e ; Sst ae : 7, ey A Ne
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I, are a a a < a 5 oe) ee 4ST ety a << ~ f , of = i: re en » ae a, him, he raised it to his lips, and, after swallowing a little, set it down, and, drawing his sleeve across his mouth, accompanying the motion with a smack of his lips, asked, in a tone loud enough for Ronald to ear: “ Who's dat man, and vare he come from—eh?” ‘*He’s an old friend of mine I have not seen for some years, and has just come from his ship.” * Will he tako a little beermid me? Likes totreat de friend of de king.” “T will ask him,”’ was the reply. “Do you ken bim?? asked the cautious Scotch- man, as the invitation was extended. ‘Yes, He is an innocent sort of a fellow, cl- though sometimes quarrelsome when drinking. You had better please him. His name is Peter.” “Weel, I dinnu mind if I drink a pinto’ ale wi’ him,” and he moved to where the Dutchman was, and seated himself opposite. “Dat ish right,” remarked Peter, grinning. ‘I dinks ish better for all to be friendly, Better if dish country had done so mid England, dan sbpill so much blood fighting for nodding.” Ronald was on the point of denying this assertion, but recollecting how dangerous it was for him, in an enemy’s city, to differ with the idea made popu- lar either by circumstances or by force of arms, uttered some off-hand remark, and then wishing Peter a good health, emptied his cup at a draught. His entertainer followed his example, and turning, inquired of the landlord where his son was. “ He has stepped out, Peter, but will return soon,” was the answer. “Tf he binna in soon, I will gang wi’out him,”’’ re- marked Ronald, impatiently, “He is here, and has been waiting for you,” re- plied the landlord. ‘““ Where?” “You have but just drank each other’s healths. Peter and John are one and the same person.” “That are they,’’ chimed the supposed Peter, “I only wanted to convince you, Ronald, how well I could play my part of the work you have laid cut for yourself and me. There is a man, however, who is known in this town by almost every person, by the name of Dutch Pete, and as he is sick just now, I thought I'd take his place. ‘I have chosen him be- cause he’s better known to the soldiers than any one else that I know of, and they think he is asimple, harmless sort of a fellow, and allow him todo pretty much as he pleases. Father has told you that lam one of Washington’s spics. You see I’m an old hand at the business. I guess we'll get Mr. Merton out of prison without much trouble.’ So.completely was Ronald astonished at the meta- morphosis the landlord’s son had undergone, not only in apparel, but in voice and manner, that he seemed to forget the moments were gliding which were too precious to be wasted. ‘* Weel, I never saw sich a change in a’ my life,” he exclaimed, at length. ‘‘Ye binna na mare like Johnnie, than I be like a black man. Ye will do, laddie, and it be a canny one that will find ye out.” “T think so, too, Ronald, seeing your eyes nor ears didn’t,” replied the young man, ‘But we haven’t any time to lose.” ‘Even sae, laddy; so let’s be ganging, and we can talk this.over afterhand.” “ Have you left your boat so it can’t be easily ee, inquired ohn, a es “ Have you any companions on the other side of the river?” No, laddie?” “ Does this Mr. Snowden know you?” \ Ves,’” “Is he a friend of the Colonies, or of the king?” “O’ the | ing.” “Then it won’t do for you to be seen. But come along: ll fix some plan that will work out right in the end, never fear. If any one comes in, father, and asks for me, you can tell them I’ve got a head- ache. toothache, or whatever you will—you under- stand. Hob you be back to-night, John?” asked his parent, “*T don’t know how it will be; if I do, I'll give the al.”’ — left the room, and commenced their walk. The storm still raging in all its fury caused them to hasten their footsteps. It erepized no great length of time to reach the end of their journey. Although Mr. Snowden resided in what was sy 2 ed as the suburbs, a few moments sufficed to bring them to his house. “Shelter yourself under yonder stoop, Ronald, until Lean enter the house and see how the land Jays,” said John. ‘ Be careful that the patrol does not see you, should they pass. I'll let you know when they are wanted.” Without waiting for a reply, he advanced boldly vp tothe house. The door was opened to his sum- riens by a domestic, who, as the light of the lamp shone on his face, exelaimed: “Why, Peter, what takes you out such a nizht as his?” “Tf you don’t like to see me out, vy don’t you sey, ‘Come in, Peter?’” ‘Well, come in, Peter, and dry yourself,” she said, closing the door, and leading the way into the kitchen. " : i “You want to know vy Lish out to-night? oe" Tig “T comes to see you, Mary;” he said this in his most winning manner, “You flatter me, Peter ” “NoI doesn’t, Mary; but I t’inks "tisha bad night, : ‘raining like dunderation, and you wouldn’t have any aiwveetheart; so I says, ‘ Let’s go, Peter,’ and I “comes,” The Black Ship. “I’m sorry you took so much trouble.” “Tish no troubles, only when I meets de ¢oldiers, and dey stops me. Mary, dish ish bad times.” ‘“*Bad times! I should rather think they were, I wish the Americans would come bick, and drive Har saucy Britishers away,” said the girl, sincere- y. This answer suited John exactly, as his remarks were made purposely to test the girl's feelings, * Ard so coosh I, but it ishn’t safe for a man to say much about it, because he might be put in de prison, Ven I say priscn, it makes me t’ink of dat poor young man dat’s got to die next week,” * Who, P ter?” ““T means Mr. Merton.” “Tl tell you what, then; if Iwas half a man, I would try and get him out, if I was hung for it the next minute, though I don’t know him, and never heard his name before.” ‘““Now, Mary, dat ish too hard,” he replied, in a Pen tone, ‘I don’t know how to begin helping 1im, or, by dunderation, I would.’’ “You don't want a woman totellyou? For shame, Peter, for if you loved your country as well as I do, you would be fighting for her, and not be running about on wet nizhts seeing girls.” “You loves dish American country, den?” “Yes, with all my heart.” ** And if you had de chance, would you do vat you could to help de cause?” ‘Indeed I would.” ‘*Well, young woman, I am not Peter,” he said, speaking in hi3 natural voice, ** but am aspy from the government you love. Please make no noise for I have come to see you on a matter of life and death, and you can help me,” “Speak quickly, sir,’’ she said, with much agita- tion, “for anything I can do for yuu or poor America, I will.” ‘Then pay attention, aud come closer to me, ro I need not speak so loud. This young man, Mr, Merton, is Miss Bryce's husband as is fo be ; and, as [ said, will be hung as a spy next week, unless we can save him. I want you to go and see her at once, and after telling her what I have said, mention that Ronald, of the Black Ship, and a companion, are in the house and want to see her this very night. You must not let her make any noise, or let any person see you. And nowI want you to. hide me till you come back.” “Never fear,’ said the quick-witted girl, “but I will manage it. Lrather like tis, for I am helping ina good work, Here, get under these clothes, and lay still till I come back.” He complied, and the next moment her footsteps died in the distance. Full half an hour wasshe gone, when, removing the coverings, she said: ‘*IT have been longer than I meant to be, but Mr. Snowden had company from England, and it was some time befor: I could get an excuse to enter the room, and let Miss Clara know. Heresheis, though, and, poor thing, frightened enough she is with the news, ‘‘Good-morning, miss,” he said, advancing toward her. “I bring you unpleasant news, but it’s not as bad as it might be.” Question after question did the agitated girl ply him with, until he remind¢d her that Ronald was without. The faithful fellow was immediately sum- moned. As soon as he made his appearance, Mary acted as guard, while the best plan of operations was being determined. <A rope of sufficient length and thickness was made by the cxpert fingers of the sailors, the requisite material being found in the clothes-line taken from Mary’s basket. Then, with the promise that she should soon hear from them, they took their departure. CHAPTER X. OUT OF PRISON, BUT INTO BONDS. By this time it was well advanced toward mid- night, but no thoughts were entertained of defer- ring their visit to the prison. Its location was in every way an meric oe a § and, although well guard- ed, the character which John could so easily adopt would carry him safely through, as Dutch Peter was often met with prow cae late at night. “We're close on it, Ronald,” at length remarked his companion, breaking the silence; ‘‘and, as I said, I know that Mr. Merton is in that stout build- ing; but in what part of it I can’t tell.” “Weel a weel,” replied the Scotchman, discourag- ingly, ‘‘ what ha’e we to do. then?” “That’s what I want to know,” replied John. ‘You see it won’t be hard for me to get among the guards, and I can make noise encugh to wake up every prisoner in the place, but that won't’ do no good, as Mr. Merton won't know I want to find him out,”’ “Canna ye gang inside?” “Net I! If I was fitt wouldn't allow that. thing?” a“ “might if I could gang wi’ ye.’ “Dut that you can’t do. What would be your plan if youcould?” “1d gi’e a whistle, like as they do on the ship.” “Tell me how it is done.” Ronald at once uttered alow sound, which John repeated until he perfectly understood. Then tak- ing the rope from Ronald, and giving necessary caution, to the Scotchman’s surprise, began retrac- ing his steps. “ Weel,” he muttered, as he hid himself in a deep doorway, ‘‘ where be the man ganging to? Yonder be not the road tothe prison. But he be a canny youth and kens well his business.” had scarce finished speaking, when the tones of a voice fell on his ear, coming from no great dis- tance, and, in a few moments a man came in view. times a Dutchman, they an’t you think of some- eS eS His step was unsteady, and, as far as Ronald’ could discern through the darkness, he had been drinking quite as much as he was able to bear, As: he passed the seaman, he uttered a lcud whistle, and. reeling toward bim, said: ‘“Not quite so bad as I seem, Rorald. Stay where you are until you see me again; and then added, as he kept on; ‘* Vel, it ish dark to-night as ish a (hic) lamp ven de room ish blowed out. By Sbhudas, 1. falls down (hic) several, many times, like I was drunk, till lish allover mut, Dat ish a nice whistle, aud I blows my head off learning, but 1 gets bim py- and-py,” and he broke forth again, as if his very life depended upon it. “What are you kicking up such a row for, you drunken Dutchman?”’ called out one of the guard, as. the supposed Peter came blundering along. ‘“*Whoish drunk? Who makes a row?” **You, you living sample of a beer-barrel,” was: the reply. “You tinks I gets mad mit you, but I doesn't,” replied John, trying, with much exertion, to ke+ p- himself erect. ‘‘You t'inks I make the noise (hich, but it isn’t me.” “Who is it, then?”’ be Why de wind and rain, whistling around de cor- ners. ‘How come you out such a night? Ican tell you what it is Mr. Peter, if you don’t stop drinking, you won’t be on top of the ground mucb longer. I've been on post here fora long time, ever since we fought the battle of Long Island, and it ain't beem many nights that have passed without my seeing or” hearing you. If I had my way, you would be some- where besides running at large.’ ‘* Where'd I be?” “Inside there, along with the ferocious chap that belongs to the Black Ship.” ‘De Plack Ship? Vell, I doesn’t know (hic) any t’ing about dat. If de man has a goot room, I doesn't fears hin. no more as te dy fil.” The soldier laughingly informed John that the Rlack Ship monster was confined in a room on the: second floor of the north side of the building—a cold solitary place, where no light nor sound could reach him. ‘*Sol Dat ish ba’, to keep a fellow mitout not- tinks. Iguess I doesn’t want to shtay mit him, I goes along;” and the seeming drunkard started off into the darkness, whistling as if to keep up his: cogmae “Well, go ahead, my jolly butter-tub, and take eare you don't blow ont what litle brains you've got, by whistling too hard.” ‘IT may blow to your sorrow,”’ replied the counter- feit Dutchman, in an undertone, as he moved cff. Blundering and stumbling onward, in the dee ruts hat lined his path, he scon passed the patrol’s beat, and then had no fear of cncountering further iaterruption. Proceeding at a more rapid ) ace, he soon found himself in the rear of the building. It was a lonely spot. John selected a number of small stones, and commenced throwing them against the hard wall, hoping to strike the eyes’ iron grating which he knew would be in the builoing‘’s side. Fora long time he was thus engaged, until he noaee to des of effecting the wished for result, He was on the ot of retracing bis steps. when, as if in answer to Lis effort, a low whistle faintly reached his ear. It was the ship’s sienal! John answered it cautiously. It was a spirit tele~ graph which sent the bl bouncing through two earts, Soon words were passed and all was arranged. From under his great Dutch doublet, John drew his: coil of rope, and dextrously flung it up to the grat- ing. After several ¢fforts, Merton caught it, and soon a stout chisel passed up. Then, in as much silence as possible, Merton essayed the task of working out the iron bars, a cf life, of liberty,. gave strength to his arm, he bars, he found, were much weakened by rust. In the space of two- hours, he had removed one and found the cpening: large enough to force his bedy through 0 se- ony fasten the rope to the remaining erate, and descend to the ground, was but the work of a moment. ‘* May God bless you,” he earnestly ejaculated, as. he grasped the hand of his friend. ‘Ido not know who you are, but yeu have rendered me a service which I shall never forget, and Iam sure can never” fully repay.” ‘Don’t thank me too soon,” replied John, “for we've got to pass the puards yet, end that prison may, before morning, contain two instead of one prisoner.”’ *T shall never go back alive,’’ was the calm, yet firm reply. ‘The liberty I now once more enjoy shall never be surrendered only with my life.” “I'm glad to hear it, and you've a friend in me that will stand by you until I see you leave the city in safety, But let’s be moving, for it’s bard on morning. Take this pistol, but use it only to save life, and if you hear me use a different of speaking, don’t show we surnene, ‘ ’ Without waiting for a reply bis guide started for- ward, making all the haste the roughness of the pround, together with the darkness, would allow. They had not proceeded far when the sharp rattle of a musket, as it was brought to a charge, broke: upon their ear,accompanied by the prompt challenge of the sentinel. ** Vel, it is me vot comes here, and how I comes ish hard telling,” at once replied John, instantly as- suming his borrowed character, without once retlect- ing how much injury he was entailing upon the reab eter. “It’s you, is it—you ghost of flesh and blood? And where have you come from this time of the morning?” inquired the soldier, not the same one John had passed on arriving.
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‘ 12 “TIT comes from de prigon where I goes some time ago, and falls down de mud, so I lays still and goes to sleep.”’ ‘Fall down and go to sleepin the mud! You were drunk.” “I beesh a little tipsy and very sbleepy.” ‘You were drunk, so don’t lie to me. N “Who lies?’ asked the supposed Peter, angrily, | and going nearer the soldier, | “You do, But yonder is a man!” he exclaimed, as the figure of Merton loomed from out the dark- ness. ‘‘ Dutchman, you have a hand in this. Who goes there? Halt! By Heavens, it is the—” ; The remainder of the sentence was hushed by the heavy blow dealt by John, and catching the soldier's gun as it fell, he repeated the stroke with the breech, rendering him insensible, ‘Come on, sir,” he said, in a hurried whisper, as 4 he caught Merton rudely by the arm and dragged . him forward; “we have not a moment to lose, for see, yonder comes the relief.” He had rightly said, for remote only some three or four posts, the flash of a lantern shone through the darkness, and distant voices could be heard. As they passed where the faithful Ronald impa- tiently waited, he joined them, and simply pressing his superior's hand, the three made all speed to weach the inn. “ Now, Ronald, I want to know how you came here, and, in fact, the entire bistory of dele event that has happened during my imprisonment,” said Merton, seating himself a comfortable chair in the landlord’s secret room. “Canna ye bide till morning?’ inquired the Scotchman, for be felt his superior was much in meed of rest. “No, not amoment. Let me hear all now.”’ “Tt be a short story, sir,” and forthwith he nar- rated the events of which the reader is already in poeenen forgetting not to mention the interview e had with Clara, The gray light of een began slowly to steal through the leaden sky as the beroes of the night sought the repose that wearied nature craved. A few hours sufficed, and they again met within the oom, The excitement in regard to the escape of Merton was intense, and a most diligent search was being instituted, as it was hoped that they had not -yet been able to leave the city. So it was necessary for the greatest prudence to be used. The inn, for- tunately, escaped visitation. It could not be ex- pected that the affair would be ey 0 escape the attention of Mr. Snowden long; and that gentleman,, fearing the bold lieutenant mightattempt an inter- ‘view with his ward, informed the British officers of ‘the relations of the parties. A strong guard was | established about his house. This was soon discov- veered by John, whe at once made it known to the -young man, you think it would be best not to try and see “ So “Miss Bryce?” he asked. as his informant cease speaking. - ‘**T do, sir.” “Young man,’’ he added, with his old resolution, “*] gbali use every effort to see that young lady. The plan we first adopted will be carried out, that ‘ is, if you are still willing to run the risk.” oy *) have engaged in a work tbat leads me nearer to the séeaffold with every breath I draw. But as, in serving you, {serve my country, I will stand by you ‘to the death.” ‘We're going to have the weather again in our favor, for it’s going to be as dark as Eaypt.’ After partaking of a hasty pupper, ey emerged from the house, first ascertaining t they were un- ef moticed, and with extreme caution directed their steps toward Mr, Snowden’s. Using the less fre- Suenos streets and alleys, they at length reached ‘the rear of the building. It was evident that what- ever instructions the guard had received, they were lax in carrying it out, for our party succeeded in ‘scaling the wall of the garden without molestation. Cautioning the two to remain where they were, John advanced boldly to the house, and after a time his summons was answered by Mary. “Tf you love your life, do not tarry one moment donger where you are,”’ she hurriedly exclaimed, as rm ‘she recognized the man, “I’m certain I want to live, but for all that I can’t ‘take your advice,” he replied, and then briefly ex- ain why he was there, and what he wished her to do. ‘I’m sure it can’t be done, hut I'll try. Stoy 3 where you are until I return, and shuuld any of thy | guard happen this ff you must act for yourself,” " “Which I shall,” he quickly answered tapping | Bik ‘the heavy sword he wore concealed beneath his am- | q ple cloak. | From the length of time s:e was gone, he feared i «she had found it difficult to communicate to Clara Merten’s wishes. At length she reappeared, ‘a ‘ * Tell the officer to go to the arbor on the right; oe ‘the lady will soon be there,” and she again entered the house. " “TY like that girl,” remarked the spy to himself; | “she’s made of the right mettle, and as soon as the war is over. if she hasn’t any objections, I'll make— ahem! well, I'll wait till the war is over.” There is an old adage, and a true one, that to | increase Jove you have but to keep from the object of your affection. This would seem to have been true with our lovers. Long had they been separated; it seemed years to Clara, and the happiness that a eee ee ee ee ee : t+ he had allowed to spring into existence during the «ast twenty-four bours. a ‘‘My own Clara,”’ he at length said, gently raising ‘ , gushed, like the sparkling waters of some mountain aie spring. from her pure heart, was only expressed by as her rapturous silence. Merton knew that no time t wag to be Jost in presenting to Clara the new hope as" Neti He ee hg | within the hand of the spy. | would not be received, he ordered, quickly, ‘‘ Give Pere! Pwr The Black Ship. her from his bosom, “you well know the fearful risk I run in visiting you, and yet I could not leave the city without seeing you. y first thought after making my escape was, where you were, and how I should find you. Had it not been for the assistance rendered me by the spy, I should have failed, and perhaps by this time have been again an inmate of prison cell, But, dear Clara, I have something of vital importance to propose, which I hope for our mutual happiness you will think for the best.”’ “Tell me, dear Harold, what it is. You are now my guide, and with you rest all the hopes of my future life,” **T must leave this city at once, and hope to do so without interruption. God only knows when we shall meet again, perhaps never;’’ be seemed choked as he uttered these last words, for his stout heart, that bore him so eigen 3 in many a trying moment, gave way at the thought of parting with the fair girl by bis side. He overcame his emotion in a mo- ment, and resumed, in an impressive tone: “What I propose may startle you by its abrupt- ness, but it is that we part as man and wife.” * To be married !”’ she exclaimed, at this unlooked- for request. ** Does it surprise you?’’ he added, quickly. ‘‘The circumstances which surround us warrant it. Mr. Snowden will never give his sanction, were we to wait forthe war to terminate, and surely you would only secure our peace of heart by being mine in life and in death.” * Then our marriage—?”’ **Must be performed to-night.” * But the time! The—” ‘*Ts as suitable as before a congregated throng in ehurch, or in your uncle’s splendid drawing-room, But it shall only be consummated with your mother’s knowledge and consent.’’ Mgr igo with her commingled emotions of fear, love and doubt, the maid sought her mother’s chamber, to startle the good lady by her revelations. For the moment, Mrs. Bryce was upon the SS of pars a decided refusal, but as she reviewed Merton’s istory, she began to think more favorably. The pleasing, tearful countenance of her child sealed the decision. “My child, he is worthy of you; let it be as he de- sires. [understand the motives that prompt him, Return and tell him he has my sanction, and that I will join him with all speed.” Clara hastened back to the side of her lover, and made known the result in blushing modesty. Jobn was called, and to his surprise was asked where the services of a clerg: man could be obtained. Con- sidering a moment. he at length fixed upon one, who could be fully trusted. Giving a few orders, Merton bade him make all haste, and ere an hour had elapsed, the man had returned. ow solemn was that marriage! No pomp, no flashes of light, no merry voices, no display; but out in that black night air, with the wild, stormy sky above them, and the darkness around, Merton and Clara plighted their vows. The ceremony was soon concluded; a few moments tater the heart-rending sobs of the young wife told that their parting was at hand. One moment of bliss to be followed by count- less days of agony. The parting might be forever. The garden was again left to its solitude. The: “careful watch” patrolled his beat, and as his “all well” rung out from time to time, Clara was in- formed within her solitary chamber that her husband had effected his escape unnoticed. Little did Mr. Snowden think, in his fancied security, as he rested on his couch in the library, of what was transpiring —that the “audacious rebel”? had not only eluded his vigilance, but had assumed the right of controll- ing the future of his niece, with a power he could not gainsay. We will not relate the manner in which Lieuterant Merton succeeded in passing the numerous guards posted around the premises and along the streets. lt was owing to the mangement of the spy—a man of consummate courage, craft and devotion, “And now we part,’ he said, as he grasped his hand, “ both to engage in the dangers of our calling. You have saved my life and enabled me to consum- mate the dearest wish of ay ren One favor more I ask of you, if it should so happen that you are able to grant it. Watch over the welfare of my bride; guard her from ill; and. should it be necessary, on account of any harsh treatment se may_ receive from her uncle, to have her r-moved, aid her to reach my vessel, and any reward you may ask shall be freely given.”’ “Do not speak of reward, sir, unless you want to aggravate me; and rest easy, that Mrs. Merton shall not wanta friend aslong asIam near. But push off, sir, for danger may come at any moment. Good- by to you both ” “Farewell, John; 1 shall not soon forget you. Here, receive this—nay, do not reject it,’’ he said, drawing his watch from his pocket, and placing it Then, as if fearful it way. Ronald!” The spy stood watching the boat untill it was lost to sight, when, drawing a deep sigh of relief, and casting his eyes on the present, said: ** Yes, I'll keep it, for we may never meet again.” His words were prophetic. CHAPTER XI. THE HAVEN AGAIN. Timm, with steady hand, had tolled the requiem of many ayear. The cloud of war no longor darkened the land. The warrior had laid aside his. sword, for | peace lay upon every hearthstone. America was ; : op Gh SE ty ae free, and had taken her place among nations, pro- mising to become a great and bty republic. ~ It was early spring-time. The first flowers began to open their beauties to the eye. The budding-leaf, the warbling of birds, the fragrant air, gave pro- mise of the intense joy which a bountiful Providence seemed to lavish upon all around. The reader’s attention is again invited to the headland near the River Medway. A distant speck of white can be seen far out on the blue waters of the ocean, but as the wind biows steadily landward it gradually increases, until the glcomy hull an snowy sails of the Black Ship loom up from the horizon. Harold Merton had not seen his bride since the night of his escape from New York. This was ow- ing to Mr. Snowden’s removing with his family to England, where he remained until the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. When he found that the estimate he had fcrmed, in commob with the ma- jority of his countrymen, relating to the strength and ability of the Colonies to wage a successful war against a power so mighty in its resources as Great Britain, was erroneous, self-interest modified, if not entirely changed his hitherto loyal feelings, and he now soon returned to his Georgia estate, to en- joy ie fruits of the liberty he had done nothing to merit. The marriage of Clara had been kept a profound secret, and he had hinted that an alliance of her- self with a gentleman whom he had already select- ed, would be exceedingly gratifying. “So, Merton, we are likely so n to part,” re- marked Captain Monmouth, as his vessel dashed merrily through the water, toward the harbor in which she had once before rested. “T hope it will not be long,” replied the voung man; for the idea of parting with his commander and the ship effected him nearly to tears. “It may be forever, Merton,” was the impres:ive reply. ‘* You are soon to be united with your wife, and, in the cares of life, the memory of those with whom you have been associated will be forgotten ”’ he added, after a moment’s silence, with much feel- ing. ‘lt once heard the prattling tongue of infeney call me ‘ father,’ and felt the kiss of love upon my lips. But it was a brief bliss—alas, too suddenly ended!” His lieutenant was astonished. From the first moment of their acquaintance not a word had been uttered which would lead him to believe this strange man ever had loved. * You surprise me,”’ he said. at length, ‘* And with surprise comes the wish to learn more of your storv. Your wife—did she die early?” ** Die—would to God she had! 0, no, Merton; it was the work of those in whom I placed confidence; friends of the family they announced themselves, but I named them the plotting devils.” Merton was startled by the captain’s manner; yet he could not refrain from adding: ** Your wife—your child—where are they?” “Tis hard to say. Happy, perhaps, in other lands—at least so I hope.”’ * Have you not endeavored to find them?” “Yes, but it was useless. I ventured once, and only once, to obtain an interview, but was told my guilt was tco clear to admit of doubt, and that theré- fore my wife would not see me. Her special mes- sage was that for the future the greatest kindness I could show her would be never again to attempt an interview. I have obeyed that request; but. oh, how hard—God only knows how hard it has been to persevere in it.”’ “Captain Monmouth, excuse me, but I really think ycu have done yourself and your wife a gree wrong, & life-long injury, in not compelling hose who had wrought your unhappiness to a stein account.” ‘“My dear boy, all this I did attempt. but ’twas useless. But no more of this,” he added, his voice resuming its quick, authoritative tone. “Do you in- tend returning North with me, or will your stay be too long for me to wait?” “My business is solely to see and claim my wife; and then, sir, I shall be ready to return.” “Then a day or two will suffice?” “ ite.” s Prit say I am by no means devoid of curiosity, and should much like to see this lady-love of yours.’ “Will you not go with me to the house?—for [ mean to make my second visit, as I did my first, un- announced,” * 1 will accept your invitation, and astonish myself by meeting society once more. By the by, Merton, we will poorly represent the navy of our country, seeing our clothes are none of the newest, and that no tailor sails aboard, But no matter; we will show marks of rough usage, like the old ship—God bless her!” “She bears many a mark, sir; and her black sides look some less glossy than vhen she last glided among the dangers of yonder inlet.” “But, battered as she is, it would be a risky mat- ter for a ship to try her strength; and, with all the plugs sbe carries, there is strength in her timbers et. Isuppose we must enter yonder harbor as we did a first, provided you and Ronald remember the is? “Yes; it will be necessary, sir. 1 still remember part of the lesson.” ‘ Ronald?” ‘* Ay, av, sir.” m The faithful Scotchman came aft. “Do you remember the part you layed on this shore, while we obeyed your signals a ard ship?’’ “ Yes, sir.”’ ; “Do vou think you can go through the same thing again?”’ j ry Iken so.” - a a t
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“Then get you a crew, and lower f “ Ha’e you the flags, Mr Merton? , “They are in the cabin, Ronald; and while you get ready I will bring them.” ; ‘*Beg pardon, sir; but be ye ganging to see tho | leddie?” “Yes, Ronald, such is my intention.” | “T wad like to gang wi’ ye, sir, for there be na knowing what might happen. Ye dinna forget the service poor Jamie and mysel’ gi’ed ye, when ye had us Reng wi’ ye?”’ X “T remember it well, Ronald; but I think this time we will not be likely to meet enemies. You may go, ) however, so lose no time in preparing the boat, my man,’’ added Merton, * Ay, ay, sir;” and the happy fellow hastened to perform his duties. " Conway was no longer the Scotchman’s insepara- ble companion. The noble sailor had yie'ded up his life in the service of his adopted country, and now : lay calmly sleep.ng beneath the ever-moving waters. Ott had his companion thought, as he passed through the lone hours of his watch, of his friend Jamie’s last words, He could almost hear the stentorian tones of his voice, as, side by side they fought, until missing the strength of his brawny arm, be turned and saw the brave man lying prostrate on the deck, , his life flowing fast away. : “It’s all up with me at last, Ronald boy, and you'll m have to fight alone the balance of your days. Take t a dying man’s blessing, and stand by the flag, Ronald, if you have to give up your life as I have. God bless you, Ronald, for you’ve been a brother to {| me. Raise me up higher, for I want to see the ba‘tle. i By me faith, but the strife’s ours, boy. Oh! for a little more life—a wee bit of strenzth—but it’s com- ing—good-b—” a onald was companionless! i The bodt was ready. Merton having examined + the signals, the crew started for the shore. The away the boat.” little flags did their work well, and _ the Black oan soon swung at ker cable. Capcain Monmouth, wit his lieutenant, started at once for the mansion of Mr. Snowden, CHAPTER XII. ALL IS WELL, } | ‘*On, mother, when will this cruel separation end? When shall 1 again behold the dear form and face i of that husband who hasbeen kept so long from i me?’’ said the now despairing Clara to her mother, i on. that delicious spring day. j **Patience, my daughter. In God’s good time all ae will be well, and the clouds which so weigh down f your spirits wil) surely pass away. Trust in Him ; who doeth all things well. But come, you must ; rouse yourself, and not let the company assembled below see you wear such a look of despondency. an | Have you arranged every thing for the tableau?” ‘** Yes, mother, but really I detest the folly.” “You wil! find that it will do much toward chas- ing away the sadness that seems to.depress your spirits to an unusual degrce to-day, my child." | “J will try, mother. Do youdescend; I shall soon make my appearance.” ; ‘Harold, my Harold,’ she murmured, when left \ to herself again. ,‘‘Oh, why do you stay away from me? When shall 7 part?” She seated herself by the window, gazing abstract- edly out upon the sunny landscape. Long she lin- gered, forgetful of the promise she had made, until roused by the joyous tones of the company below. She hastened through her toilet. Arranging her abundant tresses gracefully around her brow, and robing herself in a simple yet becoming dress, she descended to the parlor, to mingle with the guests, and to appear the gayest of the gay. Mr. Snowden was celebrating the anniversary of his birthday—a custom which he never omitted. And now that the war had ended, and peace again blest his estate with fruitfulness, the master of the mansion enjoyed the festivities of the day with un- wonted relish, The hours passed swiftly. The shades of night stole over all. It was planned that in the evening a and tableau should be enacted, representing some of the leading events of the past struggle. Ella was to appear as Liberty, surrounded by her satellites, while her mother intended portraying some of the sorrows attending war. She was to personate the widow robbed of her husband on the battle-field, and was to beseen in the act of gazing on his pic- ture, and to appear as if bowed down with anguish. The trials of her own life enabled her to act her part with much ore real feeling than the assembled company co ess. When Captain Movmouth and Harold reached the mansion, it was quite dark. The first sound which met their ears was the sound of music and erry voices, causing them both to look inquiringly it each other. ‘©-You will be obliged to delay your visit, for there must be a large company gathered in there, Mer- ” ‘a ton. Tee... “None, I think, sir, have a better right of entering ae than myself. With your permission, we will wal ss én, replied the young man. determinedly, he Very well, lead on,” replied his commander, “T know how it is with you young husbands, and I do not eo your anxiety in wanting to see your long- absent wife. They approached the door, and knocked for ad- we be reunited, never more to epee, ss mittance. It was some time before the summons . was answered. ‘I would like to see Mrs.—I mean Miss Bryce,” ‘said Merton, to the servant. say can onal in, sir. Miss Clara be in de par. aoe lor, a can’t come right away.” - om The Black Ship. ** But I must see her at once.” ‘Beg parton, sar, but she’s playing in de show jest now.” ““What does all this mean?” said Merton, looking puzzled, “De ladies and gemmen am all dressed up and playing like as if dey was dead,” exclaimed the ar Mg The man evidently means they are engaged in a play of some kind,” suggested the captain. * Ah, true. You can go, boy, and we will wait in the ante-room,”’ said Merton, as the negro hastened away to witness the tableau. “Tt is many a Koy year, Merton, since the music of the social circle has rung in my ears,” said the captain, breaking the silence, and glancing around the comfortable room in which they were seated, “Moments like these make me sad, and awake fresh memories of bygone days, which, for the sake of my peace of mind, were better never recalle’.” “Our natures, sir, flow in very different chan- nels,” replied Merton, as he noticed the melancholy which spread over the countenance of his superior. “With me, sir, did co trouble my peace of mind, I should make a confidant of some generous heart, that would sympathize with and comfort me, while you keep your secret most jealously locked within your own breast. Captain Monmouth, unsuitable as the time and place is, will you not unburden your heart to me?’ “God bless you, my young friend! I appreciate the motive that prompts the desire on your part, but you cannot aid me and the recital of my wrongs would neither be pleasant for me to relate, nor for you to bear. All will be made right in the world be- yond this.” He arose, and hurriedly paced to and fro, across the little room, Merton watched him for some time. wondering what could have been the cause which created so much unhappiness in the heart of the agitated man before him. Gradually his thoughts turned to his beloved, whom he was so soon to clasp to his yeatning heart, and proudly publish to the world the tie that bound them, oments swiftly flew, until he was aroused from his reverie by the startling yet suppressed cry of his superior. He saw him totter toachair. From the apartment in which they were seated led two doors. One, by which they had entered, and another opening into a passage which led to the drawing-room, where the company were assembled, Directly in front of the door, which stood open, was erected a platform, upon which the different scenes_were being repre- sented. It was evident Captain Monmouth iad re- marked something which disturbed him, for he hur- ried to Merton’s side, saying: “Look through yonder door, and tell me what you see!” His voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper. “A room well thronged with visitors, that is all,” answered Merton, “But the platform! Look on the platform!” ‘There is no one there.” “Oh, Merton, why did you bring me here? Would to God I was out onthe wide ocean. Would that I could feel the quiver of my noble ship beneath my feet, and hear the fierce unchained winds whirling and whipping the waters into mountain waves, This is a new chapter in my life's history, and it will either bequeath to me joy, or a still darker path to tread. Come, follow me,’ “Where, sir, are you going?” asked Merton, in a yy =p genoa “Among yonder com and to introduce a tableau tpuctto the life,” ie Wate. | your agitation—your abrupt entrance-- “Well, your what? Think you I care for opinion, or intend molding my actions to suit the present as- sembly?’ He said this sternly, and advanced to- ward the passage. ‘Come, Merton, and see the ps ash grt ae , e two enter e parlor apparently unnoticed, and seated themselves where Hey would be likely to attract the least attention. Merton glanced hur- riedly around the room in quest of her he lon to see, but he looked in vain. He then turned his at- tention to his superior, “What was it, sir, that caused your agitation?” asked the young man, in a whisper. “ Be silent, and you will soon know all.” “What is the next piece called?’ Merton heard a lady near him inquire. “<The Widow,’’’ was the answer, ‘Mrs. Bryce is the actress. It will, no doubt, be well represent- ed The sound of a bell was heard at this moment, suppressing at once the hum of voices. All eyes were directed to see what the withdrawing of the gracefully draped curtain would reveal. Seated on a velvet-covered chair, her head resting on her hand, with eves fixed on a miniature likeness she held. was Mrs, Bryce. Her hair was bow yet beautifully arranged, and her dress of deep black sat handsomely to her yet well-rounded figure, on had lightly touched her with his frosty hand. e soft light thrown upon the stage by the well-adjusted lamps. made the picture, in all respects, one of start- ling effectand beauty. It portrayed one of the wives of America, who had encouraged her husband to go forth and battle in the cause of truth and justice, and, while obeying her mandate, death had stricken him down, and she was now left to struggle compan- ionless through life’s journey! So well did she act her part, that not the slightest motion was visible, and, although the tableau embraced but the single figure, it was the most str’king one of the —- Her attitude was changed by the touch of the bell, and slowly sinking to a kneeling position, she as- sumed the attitude of prayer, as if asking God to 13 take her to himself and to the lost one. For the first time her features could be plainly seen. What causes. that upheaving of the breast, the quiver of the lips— ay, even a tear glistening in hereye? A chord is touched whose vibration stirs her entire being. Back through the stages of her life’s pilgrimage, now darkened by time and almost forgotten, shines a faint light, revealing the memories of happier days. She struggles to be calm, to choke back the overflow- ing torrents of a soul overburdened with its mem- ories, and, though successful, it taxed her resolution to the utmost, Those who gazed could not applaud. The scene was too truthful to be disturbed by clap- ping of hands or the utterance of applause. A si- ence undisturbed by the slightest sound filled the room, The bell was, at length, touched, for those who were in charge had neglected their duty, so in- terested were they in gazing upon this truly painful icture. Suddenly, a voice, deep and hollow in its ne, startled those present: * Let the curtain remain! not yet!”’ ’ The Saye pee was startled to behold the command- ing form of a stranger leap upon the stage before the still kneeling woman. “Am TI forgotten, Ella?’ His answer was the fixed, painful gaze of those eyes that had so oft looked on him in love, ‘* Ella, am I forgotten?” he continued. ‘' Have the long fr crushed from your heart the love you once bore me? Oh, look on me in kindness, if but for a moment. Remember our child! Living or dead, remember that iam her father! Still silent? Then farewell! A long, eternal farewell!” He turned to go. A wild shriek was his answer, as the form of the woman fell prostrate before him, All was instant confusion. The guests gathered around the fainting lady to gees assistance, but Monmouth waved them back, saying, as he raised the inanimate form in his arms: **Back—give her air!’’ The company fell back at his stern command, The astonishment of Merton, meanwhile, was such as to banish all thoughts of self, or the lovely being he called wife. Even when the excitement was in- tense, and all had rushed to assist the region: J lady he remained rooted to the spot, nor did he stir until Mrs. Bryce had been removed to her room. Silence being then restored, the explanations offered by his: superior recalled him to the time and place. ““My friends,” the captain began, ‘I regret that my presence has caused the entertainments of this evening to be so suddenly interrupted. Let me in- form you that I am Charles Monmouth, command- er of the Black Ship, whose exploits doubtless have. filled the heart of every American with pride, and struck terror to the seamen of England. Yonder stands one of whom his country is proud, and should be named in connection with myse!f—Lieu- tenant Harold Merton, to whose courage and wis- dom the Black Ship owes much of her glory.” The astonished company pressed eagerly forward ‘hs er the hand of the man whose name they had so often heard. After expressing words of congratulation, 4 turned to seek Merton, but looked in vain. The quick ear of love had beard the light footfall, and the young man was folded in the embrace of his wife. ey stood in rapt silence before that assembly. Merton at Jength broke the spell by saying, as he disengaged the arms from his neck and lifted the radiant face of Clara from his bosom: “Ladies and gentlemen—my wife—Mrs. Merton,’” “Mr. Snowden was silent from astonishment. “His wife!’ He muttered the words over and over again, after he had collected his thoughts. And then the reappearance of the husband of his sister! Surely it seemed a night of evil omen to him. He passed out of the room unobserved. The evening was far advanced, and much as both the officers were inclined to remain, the stern disci- The end of the act is line of the service denied them permission. romising to return the ie) morning, they took their departure, and with buoyant feelings proceeded to their vessel. In the morning we again find the two officers on their return to the mansion of Mr. Snowden. The manner of Captain Monmouth was calm and austere. ** Why are you so gloomy this morning?” at len asked Merton. ebay sir, you have the ho at the mistake of years is to be rectified, and The an- ticipation that the remainder of your life will be bright and happy should make you joyous,” “Very true,” replied his superior. “Yet the mood bas so attached itself to me that it cannot be removed at once, 1 have cause for at least a mo- mentary joy. “T feel that itis to be a joy forever. sir! And to think that Iam really linked to you by ties of rela- pe eo is ay fully ex erton’s face expressed the pleasure his whole soul. , —— F The captain grasped his hand, and as he said God bless you!" the tears coursed down his cheek unrestrainedly, The two walked in silence to the mansion. Evi- dently they were expected guests. Mr. Snowder received them with a gentlemanly cordiality, though his anxious face expressed the mistrust and disap- pointment in his heart. he captain at once sought the side of Mrs. Bryce. She gave him her hand, and looking him full in the ‘ace ; “T thank God that you have come back to me!” The stern seaman could only say, ‘‘ My wife!” as. he drew her to his bosom. Clara and Merton witnessed all, and, even in their moment of surpassing bliss, had ts of thankful I a .
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or compelled me to remain out j piers, bot ) long-lost father. : re long the company regained their seats, when Captain Monmouth at once proceeded to relate his ‘story, and thus to relieve his soul of its long-worn burden, “In detaili the causes which have so len estranged me from her whom I never wronged, wish to blame no person of this present COmDaOY I must admit that had you, Mr, Snowden, allowed me @ hearing, or you, my dear wife, been not so per- suaded by those who partly wished me harm, and partly felt, for a time, so exasperated that they would noteven allow me the opportunity of clearing myself from the false charges preferred against me, much misery would have been spared us both, The charges that were advanced, and which you all be- lieved, were these: Iirst, in regard to the will which left my wife one-half of the property of your only brother, Mr. Snowden, it was said that the codicil had been removed, and that J did it. The reason assigned was that the will any p:oviso, while the codici roperty must not be made over by her to her hus- and but be left to her children, The second charge was that I had been from the beginning a werthless fellow, wel) versed in gambling, and, in fact, in all the evil ways of dissolute men, but possessed of “cunning enough to keep them concealed from the knowledge of her [I loved. Circumstances favored the miserable wretches who had devised the scheme to ruin me and shipwreck my happiness. Will it be necessary for me to minutely cetail all that transpired, or are circumstances sufficiently fresh to ‘dispense with words? I hope so,” * Be brief, dear husband, for the subject is trying enough even to think of, much less to be the theme of conversation,” replied his wife, looking up through tears, pleadingly into his face. ‘*As to the will, [learn that you have Jong since been convinced of my innocence, for, although from ‘that evil day having never seen you, I have learned from others that such was the case, You are satis- fied of that fact, Mr. Snowden?” ‘* Fully, sir.” “The remaining charge still hangs clonded in mystery, for the truth has never been revealed, ‘The reason that I was so charged in both cases, was owing to a man by the name of Tripton, who had loved your sister at the same time as myself, and he it was who originated the story of the will, which by some means he discovered. To further bis aims, ho hired a man capable of any act, and he was the dis- sipated gambler. Between this man and myself there existed a most remarkable likeness, and this Tripton turned it to advantage, for, while it screened him, it enabled the story of my ill-doings to seem true. The plan he adopted was, that by re- ys visits, and demonstrations of the most dis- nterested friendship, he at last spcke of me, and in ‘such a manner as to indicate that the duty was painful. To prove what he said, he offered to con- vince Mr. Snowden and others by the best of evi- dence, namely, sight. and always chose the time when business either called me away from the citv, e. Ineed hardly add that the person seen, représented as myself, was bis accomplice. Iremained perfectly ignorant of all this until, like the sudden burst of the tempest, my wife was torn from me, and I even refused the chance of proving my innocence. The proofs of m guilt it was said were unquestionable, and they did not wisa me to increase my crimes by perjury.” There was a sprinkling of censoriousness in his voice as he uttered uhese words. After ashort pause he added: *‘ But enough, This Paper procured by me from his accomplice before he ied, wil! show in a moment my innocence.” _ Receiving the paren presented, Mr. Suowden read it attentively. s he handed it to his sister, he rose, and taking the captain's hand, said, warmly: “You will, I hope. not judge harahly of me for causing you so many days of sorrow, You must ‘see that the proofs seemed almost.unqu stionable. Pardon me, my dear sir, and believe that I will make all the restitution within my power,” “ All that I require is to have you feel that Iam not the kind of man you have so Jong been led to believe. In the future, may a friendship without suspicion exist between us.” “It shall be no fault of mine if such is not the case; so let us drop the subject, burying it deep with the unpleasant moments of the past, and live for love and contentment in the days to come. To you, also, Lieutenant Merton, I will say a word be- fore this painful conference is forever ended.” he added, turning with a pleasant smile tothe young map, “In the warmth of my love of country I treated you with the harshness, which I sincerely regret, and ask forgiveness. You married Clara with no pomp, and under extremely gloomy aus- as regaids the time and the thén lamenta- le state of the country. I now propose that we ‘speak on these matters no more, but enter upon this new era of our lives, by inviting our friends again, and let the tableau represent, not the sorrow- ing widow, but the more joyous one, of the reunion of lives and loves,”’ Tt was with more difficulty than was expected, that Captain Monmouth and Lieutenant Merton suc- ereded in resigning the command of their vessel. The country to which they had rendered sucb valu- cable service was loth to Jose them, and it was at Jast granted, by their promising to again give their aid in case it was needed. The parting with the crew was a most affectiug and trying scene. Those men, who had met with unsbrinking hearts the dangers of battle, or braved the the tempest, wept the hands of ir of: great tears as they gras’ ficers and bade them farewell. Ronald insis ‘ness for the return and restoration in love of the | on attendin -| land. The change, however, was too monotonous, The Black Ship. Merton, and two years remained on and he returned on shipboard, making annual visits | t» those whom he had aided in making happy Time rolled steadily on, each day bringing with it an increase of happin:ss to the characters of our story. The roof that covered one covered all. They had settled on the plantation of Mr. Snowden, as the health of both mother and daughter required the balmy breezes of a southern clime, : “So, Ronald, you have at length determined to leave the ocean, and spend the remainder of your ' days with us?” queried Clara, one evening in early roper did not mention | directed that the || | spring, as they were gathered in the parlor. ‘“Ay, my leddie,’’ replied the sailor. eneuch o’ salt water.” “T have ‘Indeed you have, Ronald, and I do but speak for | all when I say that your home with us shall be made ail you desire.”’ ‘**L ken it weel, my leddie, and I shall ha’e mony a merry hour, telling the bonnie bairns 0’ the brave deeds their faithers did when he and I cruised the seas in Tuk BuAcK Surp. THE END, Beadle’s Dime Library. Philip 8. Warne......... . 10¢ 1A Harp Crown. B 2 THe DareE-Devin, By Col. P. ramen ward onras 10¢ 8 Kit Carson, Jk. By Buckskin Sam........... 10¢ 4 Tue Kipnaprer. By Philip S. 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rte i aye Hy 7170 “A Trum 121 Cinnamon Chip, the Girl Sport; or, The Golden Jdol of Mt. Rosa. By E. L. Wheeler. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy; or, The Mys- tery of the Strongbow. By Charles Morris 123 Kiowa Charley, the White Mustanger. By T. CO. Harbaugh. 124 Kippy, the Texan; or, The Young Cham- ex y George Gleason. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mys- tery, the Female Forger. By i, L. Wheeler, 126 Picayune Pete; or. Nicodemus, the Dog Detective. By Charles Morris. 127 Wild-Fire, the Boss of the Road; or. The Wolves of Satan’s Gap. By Frank Dumont. 128 The Young Privateer 3 or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By Harry Cavendish. 129 Deadwood Dick’s Double; or, The Ghost of Gorgon’s Gulch. By KE. L. Wheeler. 130 Detective Dick}; or, The Hero in Rags. By Charles Morris. 131 ‘Khe Golden Hand} or, Dandy Rock to the Reseue. By George Waldo Browne. 132 The Hunted Hunter}; or, The Strange Horseman of the Prairie. By Edward 8. Ellis. 133 Boss Bob, the King of Bootblacks; or, The Pawnbroker’s Plot. By Edward L. Wheeler. 134 Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman; or, The Young Patriots of the North. By Oll Coomes, 135 Captain Paul, the Kentucky Moonshiner; or, The Boy Spy of the Mountains. By C. Dunning Clark, 136 Night-HMawk_ Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 137 The Helpless Hands; or, Backwoods Retribution. By Captain Mayne Reid, 138 Blonde Bill; or, Deadwood Dick’s Home Base, By Edward L. Wheeler. , 139 Judge Lynch, Jr.; or, The Boy Vigilante. / By T. C. Harbaugh. 140 Blue Blazes } or, The Break 0’ Day Boys of Rocky Bar. By rank Dumont. 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows. By Edward L., Wheeler. 142 Handsome Marry, the Bootblack Detec- tive. By Charles Morris. 143 Secar-Face Saul, the Silent Hunter; or, The Mystery of Fort Rane. By Oll Coomes. 144 Dainty Lance, the Boy Sport. By Joseph KE. Badger, Jr. 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective; or, Boss Bob’s Boss Job, By E. L, Wheeler. 146 Silver Star, the Boy Knight. By Oll Coomes. 47 Will Wildfire, the Thoroughbred; or, The Winning Hand. By Charles Morris, 148 Sharp Sam; _or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy. By 5. Alexander Patten. 149 A Game of Gold; or, Deadwood Dick’s Big Strike. By Edward L. Wheeler. 150 Lance and Lasso; or, The Children of the Chaco. By Captain Fred, Whittaker. 151 Panther Paul, the Prairie Pirate; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr, a 452 Black Bess, Will Wildfire’s Racer; or, Win- ning Against, Odds. By Charles Morris. 153 Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon; or, The Out- laws of the Gold Hills. By Oll Coomes. 154 The Sword Hunters; or, The Land of the Elephant Riders. By Capt. F. Whittaker 155 Gold ‘Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. By T OC. Harbaugh. 156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood} or, The Picked Party. By Ed, L. Wheeler. 157 Mike Merry, the Harbor Police Boy. By Charles Morris, 158 Fancy Frank, of Colorado; or, The Trap- er’s Trust. By Buffalo Bill. 159 The Lost Captain: of, Skipper Jabez Coffin’s Cruise to the Open Polar Sea. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. 160 The Black Giants; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. By Jos. BE. Badger. Jr. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective; or, Old Blakesly’s Money. By Ed. L, Wheeler. 162 Will Wildfire in the Woods; or, Camp Life in the Alleghanies. By Chas. Morris. 163 Little ‘Texas; the Young Mustanger. Py Oll Coomes, 164 Dandy Rock’s Pledge; or, Hunted to Death. B24 George jee ng 65 Bill age ge, the road Boy; or, Run nee to Barth, By Charles Morris, “f 166 Hickory arry3; Or. The Trapper-Bri- ade’s Spy. By Harry St. George. 167 Asa Scc tt, the Steamboat Boy; or, The Land Pirates of the Mieelonioes hy Ed. Willett, 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Vire With Fire. By J cath Badger, Jr. _ . 169 Tornado eS ; at fojon Jack From Red Core. By T. C. Harbaugh. . Card; or, Will Wildfire Wins ; and Loses. By Charles Morris. ‘471 Ebony Dan; or, The Rival Leagues of Silver Circle, By Frank Dumont. 172 Thunderbolt Tom; or, The Wolf-Herder of the Rockies. By Harry St. George. 173 Dandy BRock’s Rival; or, The Hunted Maid of Taos. By George Waldo Browne. 174 Bob Rockett, the Boy Dodger; or, Mys- teries of New York. By Charles Morris. 175 Captain Arizona, the King Pin of Road- Agents; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Big Game. By Philip 8. Warne. 176 The Boy Runaway; or, The Buccaneer of the Bay. By Lieut. H. D. Perry, U.S. N. 177 Nobby Nick of Nevada; or, The Scamps ' of the Sierras. By Edward L. Wheeler. 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper; or, The mn of Silver Lake. By Ol] Coomes. 179 Bob Rockett, the Bank Runner; or, The “ar Road to Ruin, By Charles Morris. { i 202 180 The Sea Trailer; or, A Vow Well Kept. By Lieut. H. D. Perry, U. S. N 181 Wild Frank, the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily’s Love. By Edward L. Wheeler, 182 Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, By Oll Coomes. 183 The Hidden Hand; or, Will Wildfire’s Revenge. By Charles Morris, 184 Whe Boy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path. By Joseph EK, Badger, Jr. 185 Evil Eye, King of Cattle Thieves; or, The Vultures of the Rio Grande. By F. Dumont. 186 Cool Desmond; cr, The Gambler's big Game. By Col. Delle Sara, 187 Fred HMalyaré, the Life Boat Roy; or, The Smugglers of the Inlet. By Charles Morris, 188 Ned Temple, the Border }'oy; or, The Mad Hunter of Powder River. By T. C. Harbaugh. 189 Bob Rockett, the Cracksman; or, Driven to the Wall... By Charles Morris. 190 da! ee or, The Tigers of High Pine. By Wm. R. Eyster, 191 Wuffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker; or, The Doomed Thirteen. By Capt A. B. Taylor. 192 Captain Kit, the Will-o’ the-Wisp; or, The Mystery of Montauk Pvuint. By Lieut. H. D. Perry, U.S. N. 193 «aptain Mask, the Lady Road-Agent; or, Patent-Leather Joe’s Defeat. By P. 5. Warne. 194 Ruffalo Bill’s Bets or, The Gambler Guide, By Capt. Alfred B. Taylor, U.S. A. 195 Deadwood Dick’s Dream, or, The Ri- vals of the Road. By Edward L. Wheeler. 196 Shadoweds; or, Bob Rockett’s Fight for Life. By Charles Morris. 197 Little Grit, the Wild Rider; or, Bessie, the Stock-Tender’s Daughter. By Col. Ingraham. 198 Arkansaw, the Man with the Knife; or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. By Harbaugh. 199 Featherweight, the Boy Champion of the Muskingum 3 or, On his Muscle, Wits and Honor. By ‘ea ward Willett. 200 The Boy Bedouins; or, The Brothers of the Plumed Lance. By Capt F. Whittaker. 201 The Black Hills Jezebel; or, Dead wood Dick’s Ward. By Ed. L, Wheeler. Prospect Pete, of the Boy Brigade; or, The Young Outlaw Hunters. By Oli Coomes. 203 ‘Khe Boy Pards; or, Dainty Lance Un- masks. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr, 204 Gold Piume, the Boy Bandit; or, The Kid- Glove Sport. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 205 Deadwood Dick’s Doom; or, Calamity Jane's Last Adventure, By Ed. L. Wheeler. 206 Dark Paul, the Tiger King; or, Caught in His Own Trap. By Charles Morris. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. By T. C. Harbaugh. 208 The Boy Hercules; or, The Prairie Tramps. By Oll Coomes. 209 Fritz, the Vound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Leetle Game Mit Rebecea. By FB. L. Wheeler. 210 Faro Frank of High Pine; or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Pards. By Wm. R. Byster. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City, By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 212 Dashing Dave, the Dandy Detective. By Charles Morris. 213 Fritz to the Front} or, The Ventriloquist Scamp-Hunter, By Edward L. Wheeler. 214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine, By Capt. Fred. Whittaker, 215 Captain Bullet, the Raider King; or, Little Topknot’s Crusade. By T. C. Harbaugh. 216 Bison Bill, the Prince of the Reins. By Col. 21 peeks DAG EALae ; 7 Captain Crack-Shot, the Girl Brigand. By Edward L. Wheeler. ” 218 Wiger ‘Kom, the Texan Terror. By Oll io ong te Bas : 2 espa ¢ 1e Duelist; or, The Mountain Vam vines. 4 By Philip 8. Warne. 220 Tom Tanner, Scalawag ond Scapegrace; or, The Black Sheep of the Flock. By Philip S. Warne. Sugar-Conted Sam 3 or. The Black Gowns of Grim Gulch. By Ed. L. Wheeler, 222 «irit, the Bravo Sport; or, The Woman Trailer BY, Jol. Prentiss Ingraham, 223 Ozark Alf, King of the Mountain; or, Featherweight Among the Outlaws, By Ed- ward Willett. 224 Mashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom's Castle. By Oll Coomes, { 225 Sam Charcoal, the Premium Darky; or, How the Boy Got Iiven. By Chas. Morris, 226 Snoozer, the Boy Sharp; or, The Arab De- tective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 227 Dusky Darrell, Trapper; or, The Green Ranger of the Yellowstone. By Edwin Emer- son, 228 Little Wildfire, the Young Prairie Nomad; or, The Idyl of Echo Canyon, By Oll Coomes. 229 Crimson Kate, the Girl Trailer; or, The Cowboy’s Triumph. By Col. P. Ingraham. 230 The Yankee Rajah; or, The Fate of the Black Shereef. By C. Dunning Clark. 231 Plucky Phil, of the Mountain Trail; or, Rosa, the Red Jezebel. By T. C. Harbaugh. 232 Gold-Dust Dick, By Ed. L. Wheeler. 233 Joe Buck of Angels and His Boy Pard Paul Powderhorn. By Albert W, Aiken. 234 Old Rocky's ** Boyees3? or, Benito, the Young Horse-Breaker. By Maj. Sam 8. Hall, * Buckskin Sam. 235 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy; or, Turning the Tables. By Charles Morris. 236 Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate from Right Bower, By Ed. L. Wheeler. 237 Lone Star, the Cowboy Capea: Mysterious Bwuyueros By Col. P. Ingraham, i \ , b or, The 238 Whe Parson Detective; or, Little Shocky, the Ranger of Raven Roost. By Oll Coomes, 239 Whe Gold-seeker Guide}; or, The Lost Mountain. By yd eg Mayne Reid, 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. By Edward L Wheeler, Bill Bravo, and His Bear Pards; or, The Roughs of the Rockies. By T. C. Harbaugh. 242 The Two * Bloods; or, Shenandoah Bill and His Gang. By Charles Morris. 248 The Disguised Guides or, Wild Raven, the Ranger of the North, By Oll Coomes. 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret; or, A Sister’s Devotion. By Edward L. Wheeler. 245 Merle, the Midday; or. The Heir of am Ocean Freelance. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 246 Giant George}; or, The Ang’l of the Range. By mye ce Sam 5. Hall—* Buckskin Sam, 247 Old Grizzly and Mis Pets, By Capt, * Bruin ** Adams, 248 Sierra Sam’s Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints. By Edward L, Wheeler. 249 Milo Romer, the Animal King; or, The Round the World Wanderer. By Capt. Fred, Whittaker, 250 The Midshipman Wutineer; or, Brandt, the Buccaneer. By Col, P. Ingraham. Light-House Lige or, Osceola, the Fire- brand of the Everglades. By Captain J. F. C. Adams, 252 Dick Dashaway; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago, By Charles Morris. 253 Sierra Sam’s Pard3 or, The Angel of Big Vista. By Edward L, Wheeler. 254 The Half-Blood 3 or, The Panther of the Plains. By Edward §. Ellis, 255 Captain Apollo, the King-Pin of Bowie. 2 T. C. Harbaugh. 256 Young Kentuck 3 or, The Red Lasso, By Captain Mark Wilton. 257 The Lost Hunters 3 or, The Underground Camp. By Captain J, F, C. Adams. 258 Sierra Sam’s Sevens or, The Stolen Bride, By Edward L. Wheeler, 259 The Golden Harpoon: or, Lost Among the Floes. By Roger Starbuck. 260 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ran- ger. By Oll Coomes, 261 Fergus Fearnaught, the New York Boy. By George L, Aiken, 262 ‘The Bre hel i Sleuths; or, Rollicking Mike’s Hot Trail. By Charles Morris. 263 Deadwood Dick’s Divide; or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake. By Ed. L. Wheeler, 2614 '*he Floating moeypery or, Merle Monte’s Treagure Island. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 265 Whe Tiger Tamer; or, "he League of the Jungle. By Captain Fred, Whittaker, 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; or, Davy Crockett’s Crooked Trail. By Ensign C. D. Warren, 267 Whe Buckskin Detective; or, Claude Crecy, King of American Road-Agents, By T, C. Harbaugh. 268 Deadwood Dick’s Death Trail; or, From Ocean to Ocean, By Ed. L. Wheeler. 269 Whe Gold Ship; or, Merle, the Con- demned. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 270 Blizzard Ben, the Arizona Cyclone; or, The Riot at Keno Camp. Py Capt. M. Wilton: 271 The Huge Hunter; or, The Steam Man of the Prairies. By Edward 8. Ellis, 272 Minkskin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. By Oll Coomes. 273 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol; or, The Rival Heirs, By Edward L Wheeler. 274 Joly Jim, the Detective Apprentice; or, Harry Keen's Big “ Lay.”” By Charles Morris. 275 Arizona Jack 3; or, Giant George's Tender- foot Pard. By Buckskin Sam. 276 Merle Wonte’s Cruise; or, The Chase of “The Gold Ship.” By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen, By Edward L, Wheeler. 278 The Three Trappers 3 or, The Mountain Monster. By Bales L, W. Carson, 279 Old Winch, the Rifle King} or, The Buck- skin Desneradoes, T. OC, Harbaugh. 280 Merle Monte’s Fare ;-or, Pearl, The Pi- rate’s Pride. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, 281 Denver Doll's Victory 3 or, Skull and Cross-bones. By Edward L. Wheeler. 282 The Typo Detective; or, Weasel, the Boy Tramp. By Edward Willett. 283 Indian Joe; or, The White Spirit of the Hills. By Major Lewis W. Carson. 284 The Sea Lt or, Merle Monte’s Pledge. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 285 Denver Doll’s Decow; or, Little Bill's Bonanza. By Edward L, Wheeler. 286 Josh The Boy Tendertoots or, The Wild Men of Buzzard Bar. By Capt. M, Wilton. 287 Billy Bine-Kyes, the Boy ver of the Rio Grande. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 288 Whe Scalp King; or, The Human Thun- derbolt. By Captain J. F. C. Adams. 289 Jolly Jim’s Jo; or The Young Detec- tive’s Triumph. By Charles Morris, 290 Lit'le Foxtire, the Boy Spy. , By Ol Coomes. f 291 'Turk, the Boy Verret. By RK, L. Wheeler. 292 Sanche Pedro, the Boy Bandit. By Maj. E. L, St. Vrain, A New Issue Hvery Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all newsdealers, five cents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PusBLisHErs, 98 William Street, New York. ,
Page 16
LU ‘ ye NP eR, we may ee ae war a" nip ey-s e “ BEADLE'S | " sin HALE-DIME 293 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; cr, The | 356 Cool Sam and Pard3; or, The Terrible | 424 Cibuta John. By J. C0. C ick Maid of the Chiff, By Captain Comstock. ° Six From Texas, By T. C. Harbau hy 425 Texas Trump. By T. O Hecich. 294 Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowie Blade of | 357 The Ranch Raiders; or, The Siege of | 426 Sam Slabsides, the Beggar-Boy Veiective, Cochetopa, By T. C. Harbaugh, ] Fort Purgatory. By Buckskin Sam. hy E. L. Wheeler. 295 Fearless P 3 RD The King of Quartz- | 358 Wirst-Class Fred, the Gent from Gopher. | 427 The ‘Three Trailers. By Buckskin Sam. ville, By Edward Willett. By Edward L. Wheeler. 428 Wred Flyer, the Reporter Det.ctive., By 296 Denver Dolls | Drift; or, The Road | 359 Durango Dave, the Young Champion Charles Morris. Queen’s Big Campaign. By E. L. Wheeler. Wrestler. By Major E. L, St. Vrain. 429 Duncan Dare, the Boy Refugee. By Col. 297 whe ‘Tarantula of aos; or, Giant George’s Revenge. By Buckskin Sam, 298 The Water-Hounds or, The Young Thoroughbred, By Charles Morris. 299 A Now, 1, the Dashing Toll-Taker; or, The Schoolmarm o’ Sassafras, By E. L. Wheeler. 360 361 362 Silver-ask, the Man of Mystery; or. The Cross of the Golden Keys. By J. C. Cowdrick. The Phantom Light=HMouse,. By Roger Starbuck. ; Deadwood Dick’s Claim; or, The Fairy Face of Faro Flats. By Edward L, Wheeler. Prentiss Ingraham. Deadwood Dick®s Dust; or, Chained Hand. By Edward L. Wheeler. Little Ah Sin. By Philip S. Warne. Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret, By Charles Morris. 430 The 431 432 300 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ran- | 363 Wittle 'T . , er, By Oll Coomes. Glen. bers Pulp S Worne. eg eae oa 433 A Cabin Boy’s Luck, By Col. Ingra’ am. 301 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport By Major. | $364 Suap-Shot, the Boy Ranger; or The Snake | 454 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. EB, L. St. Vrain. and the Dove. By Buckskin Sam. By E. L. Wheeler. 302 ‘the Wountain Detective; or, The Bul- | 365 Waltimore Be ; 5 stecti ly of Trigger Bar, By T. C, Harbaugh. By aanthicnyibl Martins. Tete rine T Loe ethan Oo ey ted OR it eae 303 ?Liza Jane, the Girl Miner; or, The Iron- | 366 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective, or, The Mortis : Nerved Sport. By Edward L. Wheeler, Taos Tiger. By T. C. Harbaugh? Y 436 Phil Flash, the New York Fox. By T. C. 304 ‘The Dead Shot Dandy ; or, Benito, the | 367 Wide-Awake Joe, By Charles Morris, Harbaugh. Boy Bugler. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 368 Yreka Jim, the Gold-Gatherer; or The | 487 The Sea Raider, By Col. P. Ingraham. 305 Dashaway of Dakota; or, A Western Lottery of Life’ By Edward L. Wheeler. 438 Santa Fe Sal, By E. L. Wheeler. Lad in the Quaker City. By Chas. Morris. 869 Shasta, th i , ve i 806 Neck-Tie Ned, theLariar-Thrower; or, The | 87 wreaker Ros ti Reef Rommers or Tho | 439 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, By J. C. Dug-Out Pards, By Maj. Henry B. Stoddard, Telltale Hand. By Roger Starbuck,” Cowdrick. 307 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben's | 3741 Kingbolt Chris, the Young Hard-Shell | 440 Litt'e Foxfoot, the Gold Bowie Kid. By 808 Ponths inne. apy Ba aaler's Ba PAULUS eer Detectiv. By Maj. KE. L. St. Vrain. Arthur C. Grissom. , rier ; , « « 9 . a; 4 ~ . » r ry Shot Dandy’s Double, By Col, P. Ingraham. | $73 BAttle Jinze3 or, The Gueer Pard. ‘By | 441 The Ocean Firefly, By Col. P. tngrahan. 809 Deadwood Dick’s Big Deal; or, The Philip S, Warne. : 442 Bluii Wills; or, The Lynx of the Leona. By Gold Brick of Oregon. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 310 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful 374 Gold Dust Tom} or, Ambergris Ben’s Double Match. By George Henry Morse. Buckskin Sam. Deadwood Dick, Jr. By E. L. Wheeler, 443 Decoy. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. } } reer J 311 Whe Roving’ Sports or, The Pride of 375 pd ig Oy Bechelin ear’ Tae Three Thun 444 Little Buckskin. By Oll Coomes. Cbuckaluck Camp. By Edward Willett. 376 California Joe's First Trail, By Col. | 445 The City Sleuths. By T. C. Harbaugh. 312 ease veain® Vigilante Prince. By au souls: Boye Monstery. 446 Haphazard Harry. By Col. Ingraham. je be . 3 or: 2 sy 7 313 Cimarron Jack, the King Pin of Rifle- ” ohana: Be Gol, brentisa iuetatun ee 447 New York Nat. By Albert W. Aiken. Shots. By Frederick Dewey. 378 Nabob Ned; or, The Secret of Slab City, | 448 Nickel-Plate Ned; or, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Defiance. By Edward L, Wheeler. 314 The Mysterious Mara ct or, The By Edward L. Avhecler. Boy Bugler's Long Trail. By Col, P. Ingraham. | 379 Larry, the Leveler3 or. Tae Bloods of the | 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective; or, The 315 ag the an n oe or, The Witch of Boulevard. By Charles Morris. Brand-Burner’s Daughter. By J. E Badger, Jr. the Haunted Fort, By Jack Farragut. 880 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide. By | 4509 Wizard Will, the Wonder-Worker; or. The 316 Old Eclipse, Trump Card of Arizona, By 5.0 Harbaugh. 317 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Lead- ville. By Lieut. Alfred Therne. 318 Ker-Whoop, Ker-Whoo! By Buckskin Sam, 319 ‘The Black Rider} or, The Horse-Thieves’ League. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. 320 Whe Sea Sorceress; or, Lieutenant Ned, the Boy Skipper. By Jack Farragut. 321 Deadwood Dick’s Dozen; _ or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats. By Ed. L. Wheeler. 822 Nemo, the Detective. By Ed. Willett. 823 Arkansaw Jack, of the Man Hunters; or, The Scourge of the Mines, By Harry Hazard. $824 t**alph Ready, the Hotel Bov Detective; or, Tracking the Foxes to Earth. By Chas. Morris. $325 Kelley, Mickey & (o., the Sleuths of F iladelphia. By Edward L. Wheeler. Major E. L. St. Vrain. Bandera Bill; or, Frio Frank tothe Front. By Buckskin Sam. \ Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance. By Edward L. Wheeler, The Indian Pilot. By Col. P. Ingraham. Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero; or, The Bordvr Schoolmaster. By Oll Coomes, Wreka Jim’s Joker; or, The Rivals of Red Nose, By E. L. Wheeler. Captain Cutlass, the Ocean Spider; or, The Buccaneer’s Gir) Foe, By T. C. Harbaugh, Warpath Will, the Poy Phantom; or, The Traitor Guide, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham, Little Oh-mv3 or, Caught in His Own Trap. Py Philip 8. Warne. Bicyele Wen. By Edward T.. Wheeler. Javuar Joe, of the Mountain Mail-Line, a E. L. St. Vrain. 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 383 389 390 Boy Ferret of New York. By Col. P. Ingraham. 451 Colorado Kate. By P. 8. Warne. 452 Hotspur Bob, the Street Boy Detective. By Jo Pierce. 453 Sunflower Sam, of Shasta; or, Dendwood Dick Jr’s Full Hand. By Edward L. Wheeler. 454 Wizard Will's Street Scouts, Ly Col- Prentiss Ingraham. 455 Little Lone Star, By Buckskin Sam. 456 phe Brick, the Jolly Vagabond. By Chas. orris. 457 Wingedfoot Fred. By Oll Coomes, 458 New England Nick. By A. W. Aiken. 459 Flush Fan, the Ferret; or, Deadwood Dick . Jr’s Big Round-up. By Edward L. Wheeler. 460 The Lawyer’s Shadow. By Jo Pierce. 326 The Ten Pards, By T, C. Harbaugh, 391 dt) ve Kit, the Dandy of the Rocki 327 oe aries ORS: nail ay Mie The Red and By Maj. H. |*. Stodc and, peat A | 461 One Against Fifty. By T. ©. Harbaugh. CN le Ma ah OR, Acie pai ; r 392 Romeo and the Reds, By BuckskinSam. »» By Col, P.] ham. 228 és he Sky mckoottves. or, A Boy’s Fight | 393 Seawalf, the Boy Liautadieit: By Colonel 462 The Born Guide ey aot, B or Life and Honor. By Major Mickey Free. Prenties Ingraham. 463 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy, By 7°% ttedeskin Lom. By Harry Hazard. 394 Yreka Jim ot Yuba Dam, By Edward Oll Coomes. ; S10. (dstle Quick-Ghose by. E. 1b. Wheeler. L. Wheeler, 464 Nimble Nick. By Albert W. Aiken. a RP EN ky EE ead tale Sete ge Be California Joe's War Trail. By Capt. | 465 Philo Fly, of Phenix; or, Dendwood > «7 ieee 4 , ’ ° taker, , No. 10, B 4 332 bb NM a Magy, The Tonkaway’s Trust. | 396 Rough Rob, of Dynamites or, The Twin tian BS ee ae heer 233 Mrimatone Job, and His Lightning Horse | 299 een eee oe pune: | 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or, En- , uartetts, ay Maio cp hs St. aap mi 398 Kid-Glove Kit and Pards; or, The Gold tombed Alive. By C. Morris. gti cig ce ag LE cle a eee King of Weird Canyon, By Maj. Hl. B, Stoddard, | 467 Disco Dan, the Daisy Dude. By J. 0, Cow-. 35 Old ‘Dou ble Fist: or, The Strange Guide, | 299 Black Buckskin. By Col A. F. Holt. drick, 335 By J ork Bad . ay © berange ®& | 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. By | 468 Neptune Ned, the Boy Coaster. By Col. 336 Wie Be , one B Bombshell: Edward L. Wheeler. Prentiss Ingraham. Boo ete een Lasse By TO. Harbaugh, | 401 EAttle Shoo-Fly, By Philip S Warne. he Rival Giants of Nowhar’. By J e Queen of the Lasso. _ By T. C. Harbaugh. | 402 tsodor, the Young Conspirator; or | #69 = See hat $837 Ben Prd, the Cave King; or, big Pete's The Fatal Leavue. By Col. P. Ingrahan. 470 The Boy Shadow ; or, Felix. Fox’s Hunt | Scoop, By W. J. Hamilton. . : 'R ? Bee fee Mics Warkota oo ten Bride en Ukee Meer ene ey pints eke for the Nabob. By .'C. Harbaugh. 9 404 Little Lariat. By Buckskin Sam. n Bill of Big Brace 3; or, Dead- of Played-Out. By Edward L. Wheeler. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. By 471 gad pdt Irs Corral By ©. ut ocion, $40 Clip, the Contortionist; or, The Vigilantes of Willett. Edward L. Wheeler. 472 Jaunty Joe, the Young Horse-King. By erce. Montana, By Edward 341 Ton Thorn, the Vagabond Detective; or, 406 Al Ale eer Hunter, By Maj. H. B. Jo Pi Running Down a Rogue. By Charles Morris. | 40” ne Boy Insurgent. By Col. Inercham. | 473 Old Tom Rattler, the Red River Epidemic. ountain Devil; or. Yellow Jack, the Outlaw Captain, By Harry Hazard. $343 Manhattan MWike, the Bowery Blood, By Edwari L. Wheeler, 344 The Fighting Trio; or, Rattlesnake, the Tonkaway. By Buckski’ Sam. 845 Pitiless Mat, the ‘Br Slayer; or, Red 342 The Thunderbolt’s Secret. By T. C. Harbaugh. $46 Rapier Raphael}; or, The Swordsmen of Zacatecas. By Maj. H. B. Stoddard, Ex-Scout. 847 Deadwood Dicks Ducats; or. Rainy Days in the Diggings. By Edward L. Wheeler. $48 Wireheels; or, Old: Skinflint, the Death- adow. By Roger Starbuck. 849 Wild Wolf, the Waco; or, Big-Foot Wal- lace to the Front. By Buekskin Sam 350 Red Ralph, the River Rover, or, The Brother’s Revénze, By Ned Buntline, 851 Deadwood Dick Sentenced; or, The Terrible Vendetta. By Edward L, Wheeler. 352 Tombstone Tom, the Arizona Boy of \s 9! np! o Le By Major E L. o. Me an The Repo «Petective 5 or, Fre iy- f ard, Ry Charies Morris. | 408 Little Leather-Breeches, By P.S.Warne. 409 Wercules, the Dumb De-froyer; or, Dick, the Boy Ranger. By Ol] Coomes. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Diamonds, By Ed- word L, Wheeler. 411 The Silken Lasso. By T. C. Harbaugh. 412 The Wild Yachtsmans; cr, The Cruise of the War-Cioud. Rv Col. Prentiss Ineraham. 413 Rilly Bombshell, the Ciiff Climber. By Frank 8. Winthrop. 414 Pe Daisy from Denver. By Buckskin am. 415 TWheVagabond Detective. By Jo Pierce, 416 High Hat Harry, the Base Ball Detec- tive. By E. L. Wheeler. : 417 Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. By Oll Coomes. 418 Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter. By T. C, Har- baugh, 419 conned, the Knife King. By A. F. Holt. 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy WithoutaName, Bv J. C. Cowdrick. 421 Deadwood Dick in New York. By By Oll Coomes. 474 Flora, the Flower Girl; or, Wizard Will’s: Vagabond Pard. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 475 The Black Ship. By John 8. Warner. 476 Humboldt Harry, the Hurricane; or,, Deadwood Dick Jr’s Dog Detective. By Edward L. Wheeler. 477 The Excelsior Sports or, the Washington. Spotter. By T. C. Harbaugh. Ready Sept. 14. 478 Wangemund, the Desert Detectiz. By Frederick Dewey. Ready Sept. 21. 479 Detective Dodge; or, The Mystery c« Frank Hearty. By Charles Morris. Ready Sept. 28. 480 Three Jolly Pards3 or, The Pets of Paddy’s Flat. By P 8. Warne. Ready Oct. 5. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The HMalf-Dime Library is tor sale by all. newsdealers. five cents per copy, or sent by mail on. er's Blizzard. Dace y) i ke, the Hill Tramp; or, Th E. L. Wheeler. ve receipt of six centseach, : B54 = Satie i ? vane or, The 422 Baby Sam, the Bov Ciant of the Yellow- BEADLE AND ADAMS, Pusu |) ar 355 The King of the Woods}; or, Daniel stone, By OllCoomes. > eatic ahs —— ip fg 4 i EN a Boone's Last Trail. By Jos, E. Badger, Jr, 423 The Lost Finger. By Charles Morris, ’ jam Street, New Yorke. \. a he Siw OW ‘ . a he A aah bi ka a * ) ‘ ¥ : ey ; . A, or “ in an Re 7 De oe 2 Sie yey rie ee a oie ed ay nk ey es ie # ; fal RS Th oe ‘g \p EE ees * : cltnin st teat saratgarmateienetn i, = tan rierprn eae Bes iy Se tT 5 »S = tes t Seay alas i ree ft Eee i = I ss whee Vos . - aoe ys =