Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1053) (1901 10)
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\ AIIM OANA —- Z % Z { t. > ‘ \ tential, ~Non “ 2 ae OZ . i October, 1901, Copyricut, 1880, py Beanie & Apams. EnTerRED As Szeconp Ciass MATTER AT THE New Yor, N. Y., Post Orrice. . M. J. IWERS & CO., Publishers, a : No 1053 PuRished Brery. (JAMES SULLIVAN, Proprietor), 10 Cents a Copy. Vol L XXXII . 4 Month. 379 Pearl Street, New York, $1.00 a Year. e ~ Captain Kyd, The King of the Black Flag; or, The Witch of Death Castle BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, AUTHOR OF “MERLE, THE MUTINEER,” ‘ MONTEZUMA, THE MERCILESS,” “‘ FREELANCE, THE BUCCANEER,” ‘THE DARE DEVIL,” \‘ THE CRETAN ROVER,” “THE PIRsTE PRINC®,” ETC,, ETC, it) 4 : oe = Rain Siege _ Yq ce = meee 1) f o~ ns eet yt
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- belated pea: on the highway, and i sid the hambl e dwellers in ‘ontine’ rand near tg esr home, excepting two that had grown in the Belmont Ma me borsemen:” nie THE KING OF THE BLAOK FLAG, pace along the rocky road that followed the rR O curve of the bay, as though fearful that the one “Tis well; it suits my own humor, gi Cor-™ : who had forsaken him might hear the hoof-| mac. Come, aid me to mount.” The Witch of Death Castle. strokes of his steed, and bring a throb of pain to They entered the stable together, and a mo- the heart in pity for him whom she had set adrift | ment after the vicious animal dashed out, his: BY COL, PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ee ged sehen anes — oe ae Pe a a, Resear and Cormac following, “ INEER.” “ - nd when sunlight fell upon bay and shore, rew open the portal. ged gen fs, een te Hurtel would ascend the tower, that looked off Then, away into the dense darkness and storm: THE BUCCANEER,” ETC., ETC. CHAPTER I form of Lady Belmont, seated in some shady | vant to shiver with awe, and echoing through: : nook, promenading among the flower-beds of | the court, sounded like the cry of a lost spirit, THE TWO CASTLES. the pgich Rae or, with a gay cavalcade of | when hurled into the Inferno. Like huge sentinels standing at their posts iding forth for the chase, his brother by | Along the rocky road rushed Red Satan, his oo and silent, é olden time crown the headlands of penin- | was false. sulas, that jut out from the main land on the Thus time wore on, the portals of Castle Crag picturesque coast of southern Ireland, and form | barred against the ingress of any one from the a small and pretty bay, whose wild and roman- | outer world, and the lonely life of its master tic shores and deep blue waters are themes for | gaining for it the title of Hurtel’s Roost; but, many a weird legend. what went on in that gloomy pile of rocks, un- The one whic right, even in its desolation and decay, is a | story will show, as it will also reveal how fell formidable structure, and commands a fine | upon it the name of Castle Death. view of the bay, and for leagues up and down the coast, which here and there is dotted with CHAPTER II. other rockbound Lords of Ireland, centuries ago. It was a dark and stormy night: the wind ‘With its towers and battlements, massive | swept wailingly through the forest, lashed into | ing whirlpool. e walls and vaulted cham its court-yards, | foam the waters of the bay, rolled the sea into ever before in his life had Sir Hurtel seem # and surrounding acres stretching inland for | mountain waves, and howled like a lost soul | the bay so wild, or known the forest trees to: ¥ miles, over hill and dale, it was evident that | around the eaves and turrets of the two castles, the lord and master who held revel over its | one of which, defying the tempest without, was hospitable board was of noble lineage and the | brightly illuminated, and echoed with the music possessor of vast riches, of the dance, for a revel was being held in Beneath its spacious roof a regiment of | honor of a year of wedded life having gone by, guests had found hospitality, and in thé long- | since the Lady Lenore became the wife of the ago of which I write, their i would ring merrily out over the waters of the And Castle Crag, loomy in sunshine even, bay, and reach the ears of those who dwelt in | wasfar more so on that night of storm, while the castle upon the other headland, a mile dis- | its stern Fouus master paced to and fro the tant, and which build the cliff. manding a view across the bay, and of grand | ingly dancing with fiendish delight at the de- The grander home was Castle Cor, the abode | Castle Cor, 2 spair of the stern man and the dumb brute. of the haughty young Earl of Belmont, whose “One year ago to-night she was lost to me: —s peasantry were numbered by thousands, and | ay, forever lost to me, and to honor, for well CHAPTER II. whom he regarded as his veriest slaves. I know sbe is a loveless wife, that ambition THE SURF ANGEL. . 1 The other rocky homestead was first known | and hope of riches alone turned her brain and Upon that same ir of storm, there stood in: Yi as Castle Crag; but, as its owner became a her- | stained her heart with falsehood. a sheltered alcove of Castle Cor, a young.gitl, mit, as it were, the country folk called it Hur- “‘Oh God! had she not brokén faith with me | ing earnestly through the window upon the Joy- tel’s Roost, and this name clung to it until | I would have been her slave,” and he walked | ous scene within, where merry feet were danc- ea dark deeds done in its vaulted chambers, gained | from the window once more, and thus continued | ing, and lively strains were resounding with such. 4 for it the weird appellation of Castle Death. his tireless pace, until at last, as if he needed right: : Pos ied almost drown the howl- - Between the masters of Castle Cor and Cas- | more violent motion to counteract the frenzy | ing of the fierce wind, and roar of the waves > Ee tle Crag there was the bond of kindred blood, for they were brothers; but to the Earl of Bel- mont fell the title and estates of his father, he being the elder, while to the younger came only a fair living. And yet, it was that Fortune’s mantle h fallen upon h brother, which raised up a feeling of bitter hat- red between these two men in whose veins flowed the same accepted his destiny with becoming grace; but Love, the destroyer as well as the b of men’s joys, had cast its wand on both, bring- ing across their paths one upon whom the af- | storm might do fection of both centered, the one to make happy mood to take ad with a return of a Satan, — was felt by him for her, and the other to feel, | for his mad antics will shime in with the night | the unrequited as was his almost idolatrous wor- ship, that the poniard of sorrow must enter deep into his heart. he And it was not upon the proud earl that th Lady Lenore cast titled and comparatively poor brother of Castle | expect you to obey; I will be down in the court Crag; but only for afew months did his bright | soon,” and he turned into a door that led to his dream of joy run smoothly on, and then he was own handsome and comfortably furnished awakened a visions Pada’ e man she really loved, and went to the Cas- | shine and calm, sublime and terrible in storm | struck on Ragged Rest. a league off shore, Be? tle Cor as the wife of its proud lord. d darkness From that night Gipsy Jule, as her people es From that day called her, became known far and wide as the ence _ gloom, the reflex of its master’s haart; and, | Hurtel, as the peasantry while Castle Cor would re-echo with sounds of | courtesy, walked to the | ' revelry, and bright lights flash from every win- | aside the heavy curtain looked out. _ dow, the humble structure across the hey “Ay, revel on, my false a soli- tary taper, like a beacon, visible in the wing come when the iron crushed by the blow that had fallen upon him. | tile Se ry". ‘resound poets the forests of Castle Crag, | 8 or ounds awaken echoes on the lea, | red and vicious bay time when hope beckoned him on; but, | ‘By the Cross! old Co: silent, would ride forth at night, aiid dash like | but I saddled Lady for myself, as you might e ou. the wird over Captain Kyd ; wént forth only by night; and riding at a mad and surroundings than its neighbor on in gloom and despair, when the |W nt to ambitious object of his admiration, she to whom ty of saddling L he had bowed in idolatry, had proven herself as anding, on the north a view of the bay ' fickle as the wind, and, da by the earl’s | and Castle Cor, and upon the south and west | eat wealth and high rank, broke her faith—at | the ocean and coast, the suit_of three rooms e demand of her poverty-haunted father, who | kept ever before the lonely exile’s eye a grand 10ught love should go only with riches—with | panorama of nature, serene and beautiful in sun- Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. But this lonely horseman was Hurtel, who **T cannot, Sir Hurtel; he would kill ie, an ou’ll have to mount him in the stable, for his: pace that suited his wild humor, until he re- | humor is strangely ”"—Cormac had nearly said, turned by Castle Cor, when he would go at slow | “like your own to-night,” but he checked him- self and added: ‘‘ strangely devilish to-night.” upon the sea, and his dark eyes would wander bounded the maddened steed, while a yell broke over Castle Cor, and perhaps fall upon the fair from his master’s lips, that caused the old ser- ests. he ruins of two castles o oe side,"and her face as beautiful as her heart speed and temper just suiting Sir Hurtel, who al seemed utterly reckless of consequen al- nae he knew, that a false step of the teen shod hoofs would hurl him half a hundred feet: upon the rocks below. But, without a stumble the really splendid, _thongh evil-tempered animal, ran on at break-- neck pace, until the road wound under a cliff and bordered the shore, yet‘now huge milk~ white waves, shedding forth a ghastly glare in the darkness, dashed over the rocky er, swept across the narrow highway, and struck the solid wall beyond with a boom like a hea n, and, rebounding, formed a surging, seeth- towers up grandly on. the | seen by, and unknown to those without, the retreats, the homes of the A MAD STEED AND A MADDER RIDER. bend so low beneath the blast, while the roar of the waters was deafening. But, both horse and rider seemed undaunted by danger and madly reckless, for unhesitating- ly, they plun into the chaotic mass of waters, to struggle, to surge under, to be hurled inte x the air, to be swept away, over the rocky bar- =: rier, out from the shore, and tossing, struggling, # straining, to be left helpless a the storm-~ cs lashed bay, with gloomy Castle Crag looking a down upon them from: one side, and on the other, the rays of. light from Castle Cor, seem: aughter and song | Earl of Belmont. was far less pretentious in | dimly lighted corridor, halting at every turn that brought him to the arched windows com- within, he called out: : <3 ‘* Ho! Cormac, my horse, for I would ride!” Out of a room at the end of the hallway came a man whose locks were gray, and, with the familiarity of an old family servant, he said: ‘** But the storm, Master Hurtel.” “Curse the storm! It suits my humor,” he onreeee papel. . ‘Hark! -do you not know from that roar, Master Hurtel, that the sea has dashed over the barrier, and is breaking agaiiist the cliff | that overhangs the shore i ‘ * Ay, you can teach me nothing of what this ood Cormac; and I am in no rs, even from your gray head; out. It was a dark face, yet one of strange beauty, be: its small ai ai pe showing throu e parted, ruby lips e of iona lariguor, and in which aumberca the fire of un- dying hate, or love, whichever might suit her est. ; An abundance of ebony hair, held up with a sea-shell comb, a willowy form, indicative of ngth and endurance, a and shapely hands and and a costume, half sailor, half Gipsy, and you have the fearless, untamed beauty, a queen of a roving race that had their home in a wild, rugged glen, rg oe, 2 tag the sea-shore,. and running back into the hills. Forest-children, ma! pares basi or and e pe try gave them the name vo ipsies and tooked with no good will upon their com ing into their midst, while some were wont to ; say that the small swift-sailing fishing boate ¢ they owned—for by sea Sey came, not land— iy and kept at .anchor in the little cove near the glen, were used for sniuggling; and strange sto- ries were told of scenes enacted along the coast under cover of the night’s shadows, to give cok orto thissuspicion. © = |= But, be these rumors true or false, the strange peas continued to live in the gee on land be- a onging to Castle Crag, and which Sir Hurtel ans ha a es ore a their pos: be- G came famous along the whole coast, by goi out in her life-skiff, one night of storm, oy = not from jealousy and env: noble blood, for Hurtel had uilder up regard as deep and pure as_ so bring me my horse, and let it be ‘ore and my wild | di «Hox the love of God, Master Hurtel, take not that devil, for he has not been out of the stable for a month; let me saddle Lady for you, sir.” her heart; but upon his un- | ‘‘ You have heard my order, Cormac, and I hideous nightmare, for his | chambe: hile old Cormac, with a deep sigh, wife, r, asto the pro- dling Lady instead of Red Satan. © cuing the crew of an illfated vessel that had him through Surf Angel, end she it was who looked so wist- and drawing fully into the salon of Castle Cor, enjoying the a dancing with eager eyes, yet, with her beauty a ee and her ambition, building. ane high in ati air for the future, for already had she felt her iy, power over men, both high and humble, though Bisco + she scorned the former, well knowing their love oe meant dishonor to her, and she slighted the late ter, for she was proud and ambitions. ; he ae On that afternoon she had goneto CestleCor its with a bow and quiver of arrows, ordered from —————™S her skilled hands by the Lady. Lenore,andshe == had so a her titled parr, that he the 8 ie been asked to remain until later, and Carry SPS an we stle Crag wore a look of | Haughtily putting on his riding costume, Sir Lady Lenore; and ; but the time may yet may enter deep into your earts too,” he said bitterly, and_ turning e descended to the court-yard, where, light of a lantern, he beheld a white teed saddled and bri ac, inated oe the blood- ad or | you, my noble brother to trifle with me?” h po Nie a tS) me?” he a * ‘No, Sir Hurtel,” replied the old man with a and a horseman, alone and | ready lie: ‘‘the bay is there awaiting you, sir; home with her some of the anniversary su Safely away in her little boat had been the bountiful ; resent from Mme Loe ee oe and moor, startling the | wish me to accompan ; ; a No; i uiteo: Rlowe, fox, as I asked not your t when you were younger, I'll not com- ‘mence now, when y are erging the chief servant of the castle ha ae then, as a storm was sw on . sie SO 4 0 ¥ ing on to three oe sss) - r
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a * v Nie ove secure haven. _ the two castle-crowned cliffs that guarded the _ strength was bur and she to her work with a will and ener- ne - d her boat from its terrible Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. 3 — —— ————$$_—__—_— j strains of music, she had lingered on, until the | A few minutes more, and she had driven tempest burst in fury, and the bay and sea were | through the pass, with Castle , grim and lashed into a boiling, seething maelstrom. black, on one side, and Castle Cor, bright and ‘But too often had she facet the mad elements | joyous upon the other; gaining an o: , She on sea and land, to be drawn away from the | eaded down the coast. and, in spite of the al- fascination of that scene within by fear of a | most impenetrable darkness, and the wild wa- tempest, and still she lingered on, her cheeks | ters, safely guided the life-skiff into the cove, burning, her eyes riveted, and her bronzed | near the glen where lay the camp of her people. bosom nving tumultuously with the thought Springing ashore, she fastened her boat se- that burst impulsively from her lips: curely, and then returned for the one she had ** And I, too, have the power to make inen m be from the waves. slaves, as now those fair maidens do, and— €@ was unconscious, apparently dead; but she will!” raised him in her arms and staggered along the As though there was a certain recklessness | rugged pathway, until she suddenly halted, for called up by her daring resolve, she turned from | a tall form stood before her! : the window, and unmindful of the pelting ** Ah, Santos, it is you? Aid me here with this storm, left the sheltered nook, crossed the court | burden,” she said abruptly. and said shortly to the porter of the gate: ‘Came you by the water this night, Jule?” he “¥ would go out.” | asked, making no movement to obey. “ Which way, pretty Jule, in such a tempest?” “Yes, but aid me, I say, for see you not I asked the Y gate-keeper, , a a weight fit only for a man’s strength?” “To my camp.” “You are as reckless as you are beautiful, “ But road is overflooded: hark! do you | Jule,” was the reproachful reply, with yet no not hear the sea dashing against the cliff?’ effort to relieve her from her burden. **T came not by the road: I will return as I “Santos, you are a fool; stand from my path came, so unbar the gate and detain me not,” she | for I would save life, if it yet exists,” she sai answered curtly. in angry tones. “‘T remember; you came in your skiff, for I + Life! in God’s name what have you there, recall how swiftly ou glided over the waters, | Jule?” ; and, we servants of the lower hall, were all ad- *‘ A human being who needs human sympathy miring your skill and daring, pretty Jule.” and aid.” “} care not for compliments, from such as ‘Ha! T deemed it a bundle of silks and velvets you, Derric: unbar thy gate, for I would return | from the Lady Lenore’s wardrobe, as you are to camp,” she said haughtily. getting so fine of late.” “Thou would’st go to thy grave, did I allow ‘Dare you throw insult in my teeth, Santos, thee to pass, and the morning would break on | to say I would wear the cast-off finery of an- thy graceful limbs, cast mangled and bleeding | other? Stand from my path, or my knife shall upon the beach: return, and see the merry dan- | go deeper into your heart than you say my cers, and listen to the lively music, or, if it | eyes have ever done.” : please thee more, my sweet Angel of the Surf, be He did not shrink from her, but said sadly: seated in my cosey nook, and enjoy a flagon of “Why, Jule, what is it that has made you so wine with me, for it is the red and rich juice of | sava night?’ the grape of old Spain, thy native land, I have “You stand in my way, Santos, when I bear hear f a weight for no woman’s shoulders, and a life “Thy head is turned now, Derric, and thy | hangs in the balance, for I picked up this man tongue is witless, so let me get rid of thy com- Se the bay.”’ pany: unbar the portal. \ ‘‘Give him to me.” “Not I! never can [aid in thy death, Gipsy | He took the form in his strong arms, and, Jule,” said the man firmly. © with a sigh of relief she moved rapidly on, the “Then shall I unbar the gate myself,” and she 2 man following. laid her hand upon the heavy cross-beam of “Where do you go, Santos?’ she asked, quick- iron. ’ : ly, as he bore to the left upon reaching the “No, no, nor will I permit thee to take thy en. own life.” : 3 ‘* To my cabin.” ‘ ‘ “Stand back! or my blade shall seek your| ‘No, : him to mine.” : heart,” and she drew from her sash along, nar-| He hesitated, but she laid her hand upon his row-bladed dagger, and turned upon him with | arm, and, without a word he obeyed. flashing eyes. It was but a minute’s walk further on to With an alarmed cry Derric started back, | the cabin of Gipsy Jule, a snugly-built hut, by terror in his face, while onghisg scornfully, | no means uncomfortable, and containing two Gipsy Jule raised the bar, with a strength that | rooms, no one would have believed her capable of, and She opened the door and he followed her into passing out into the darkness, said with a sneer: | the cab ly oa B, Sega pees ‘oals he “ Farewell, Derric, and if thy poornane, proves placed: spe en form | | a true, tell the Lady Lenore that my own fool- | An oil taper was soon lighted, and the glare hardiness caused my death.” , turned full upon the rescued man, and both Gipsy Jule and her lover, Santos, gave a start, for they recognized who it was that had been so strangely snatched from a watery grave. a tall, lB Ae get sey Stee on slender, ar -suit, wiiva tae that was deeply bronzed, stern, and: features strangely perfect: in fact he was one to attract attention in any assemblage, and com- mand respect with admiration. “Do you know him?’ asked Santos, in a low tone. “Ts he dead, is the more im t ques- tion?’ she answered evasively, Be pate mae “ See this wound upon his head: it is where | my skiff struck him, yet is not dangerous I ‘**Do you know who he is, Jule?” asked again the jealous Santos. * Yes,” she answered, defiantly, ‘I do know im, for he was the gentleman who came to the rescue of your old mother and myself, when a band of peasants were:insulting us on the high- way 43. he is Sir Hurtel of Castle Crag sii es, the brother of a nobleman,” sneered tos. vt wt tt ‘The same blood is in the veins of,one that is in the other’s, and, from. all accoun® he is the nobler of the twoy but I wish no quarrel with you, Santos, but your aid in bringing this gen- tleman, back to consciousness— Ah! he is re- covering.” "' ° » 2 ‘ “ By our Lady’s honor! that girl fears neither man or Satan,” cried Derric with a shudder, as he closed the door abkly, and glanced out of the watch-port to see which way she went. But the night was too dark for him tosee her, as she walked briskly down the rugged to the little creek, where lay her lifecskift in a Entering it, she raised her tiny sail, and fear- 1 ered out upon the wind-swept waters, and, though certain death seemed to stare her in the face, held on her course seaward between entrance to the bay. But the stanch Tittle craft soon gee that lifé-skiff, the it was not an o: ary boat, but a same in which the girl had gone out to the rescue of the crew of the wrecked ship; and though its small sai] drove it over the waters with fearful velocity, and the spray quickly drenched Jule through and through, it stagger- ed from under the waves, and held on its course ae Mich ; - Presently the daring girl reached the pass be- tween the castles, and the waters swept sea- ward with irresistible force, the tide pale winds meeting, and for a moment it seemed as if even the life- could not live: but not for an instant did her nerve forsake her, and unflinching) holding on her way, she now felt that the great. est danger had passed: but no, the skiff sudden- ly bounded aside with a rude shock, and g the gunwale, to save herself; Gipsy Jule felt | _Ailowly, the dark, brilliant-eyes of Sir Hurtel pin rds tout her hand, and instinctively she ed, aa ‘fixed themselves. peas the face’ seized it, and from even her brave lips came a | 0 ae ule, and then upon Santos. “er startled cry, for an iron clutch was upon her | “You are better, sir,” she said in a soft,” arm, anda human face looked into her own, from out of the weird, white spray. “Save me!” The cry came hoarsely from the lips of the drowning man, and forgetting her own Gavger she let go her tiller, and gra | him in her arms, and dragged him into the skiff with a t surprised herself. : ven ke her feet, while the little skiff a like a chip in a mill-race: but had a heart that arose above danger, “Yes: I came near drowning, and m musical tone, habitual to her when not y Cotes sunk under me, and I hailed a boat, but’ it ran answered angrily: ‘““No, and I am sorry that Jule did.” — “Ah! I owe my life then to Gipsy Jule; others are indebted to her for the same service; \ Helpl ace of the young girl earnestly. 3 “Yes, I am so called, Sir Hurtel,” she an- swered modestly. _“ You know me then?’ ey od oe a eee ¢ 2 , ‘ c oan = gy bak re me down: did you save me, sir?’ and with an | effort he turned his head toward Santos, who | grace Soe are then Gipsy Jule?” and he gazedinto the | Old “Yes, for you did me a service omce on the highway; but your face shows that you are a : - me e gave a grimace, and answered: “My head feels dizzy, and my left arm is broken, for your boat struck me hard; but otherwise I am all right, I think.” ‘*Then you shall remain bere and I will care for you, for it was I that hurt you.” “Tt was you that saved my life,” he said with a smnile. She made no reply to his remark, though her face flushed, and turning to her lover, she said: “ Santos, and ask edictine to come here at once, forvhe has skill in wounds and sick- ness.” ““T will not go, Jule,” was the determined reply of the young Gipsy. ‘ As you pl but remain here and I will go,” and she glided from the cabin, leaving her — lover alone with the wounded and suf- ering Sir Hurtel. A moment of silence passed, and then Santos ke: Prue is a fool, and she will love you for what she has done for you to-night.” “Tt would be more gra in me to love her,” was the cool reply, but it maddened the young Gipsy for, drawing a knife be sprup toward Sir Hurtel, whose eye never quail nor did a muscle quiver, though he well knew his danger, alone, and with a broken arm in the presence of a jealous Gipsy. “Dare to wot pe love upon Jule, and you shall die, as shall she, if she raises her eyes to you; I will swear it, by the dead of my race.” ‘* Your threats cannot intimidate me, and I Lee ag that you had best keep clear of my path. The calm manner of Sir Hurtel enraged the Gipsy stiJl more, and he step nearer, and raised his knife to strike, while he hissed forth: “Your words have séaled your fate; you shall die, and by the hand of Santos the Gipsy.” Before Sir Hurtel could spring to his feet, or Santos could strike bis intended deadly blow, he felt himself seized suddenly and wear J aside, while Gipsy Jule, with ing eyes and drawn knife sprung in between the one she had rescued and her frenzied lover: ‘Coward! would you kill a wounded man?” “T would kill any one that came between me and thy love, Jule—ay, I would drive my blade d y heart, didst thou attempt to protect em “Santos, I tell you 1 hate you. and I dare thee to come on and cross thy blade with mine.” It seemed for a moment that the frenzied youth intended to accept this daring og 5p om and, weak as he was, Sir Hurtel, who for his own safety, seemed strangely indifferent—half arose, as though to place himself between the fearless girl and harm; but inthe doorway sud- denly of tae a form that caused Jule to give acry of joy, and the Gipsy to lower his head, as in shame, It was a man with snow-white hair and beard both falling to his waist, and upon whose head four-score years had fallen; but there was no fee- bleness in his step or manner,and his eyes flashed fire, as he turned them upon Santos, and said in deep, an tones; “* What! has a forest-child and sea-wanderer forgotten the hospitality due the stranger in his camp? Ay, and does he draw a blade upon a woman and a wounded man?” “T was mad, king,” said the young man, “You were a fool; but go; let not thy king, nor thy people, see thy face for one whole moon. Go! edictine, thy king, commands thee?’ He pointed toward the door, and the humbled Gipsy glided away in silence, for he dared not seouey the command of the king of his roving CHAPTER IV, THE MYSTERIOUS GALLEY. Two years have passed away since that. t of storm, when Sir Hurtel recht aay horse into the mad waters, and so nearly lost his life; ay, would have found a grave the > had it not been for the courage of Gipsy le. ; And strange raniors have gone afloat regard- : ing the hermit master of Castle Crag, for if has. o ther dusies his : on ‘his monthly : to t i:
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4 i D a j \ i i 4 Captain Kyd, the King of thimself a wife, it was nobody’s business, and more than that could not be gleaned from him, and the gossips had to content themselves with guessing as to who and what she might be, and it may be readily judged, by those who under- stand human nature, that the fair denizen of the ane suffered morally in the eyes of the inquis- itive. 5 After the birth of his son, Earl Belmont ‘determined to make an effort to break the bar- rier of separation between himself and his brother, and consequently drove over to Castle ‘Crag one pleasant morning, and knocked for admission at the iron-barred gate. Old Cormac thrust his head frori a window of the watch-tower, and asked as bluntly as though he did not recognize the nobleman: ““ Well, what’s wanted?” “* Ah, Cormac, it does my eyes good to see ‘your old face once more; come, ge your gate, and say to my brother that I wis answered the ear! pleasantly. ‘““ My master sees no company, my lord.” * But I am not company, good Cormac.” ‘‘ He would not see the mother that bore both you and him, my lord,” was Cormac’s reply, evidently posted by some one standing near him. “Then my brother refuses to see me?’ and she carl was evidently miffed. “He does, my lord.” “Then tell him that he himself breaks the links that binds us as brothers together,” ongeit y said the nobleman, who was not in the habit of being spurned by any one. **T will deliver og message, my lord,” and Cormac closed the window, while the earl drove away, angry with himself for having been humbled by his brother. When the Lady Lenore heard the result of the visit, she pondered the strange conduct of Sir Hurtel over and over in her mind, and her heart bitterly ached, for though the wife of the Earl of Belmont, she still loved the master of Castle Crag, and the presence of that fair form beneath the exile’s roof, caused her many a jealous pang; but the die was cast, and she must accept her fate without an outward mur- mur, wearing smiles on her lips while her heart was weeping. | But though the outer world was not allowed entrance into Hurtel’s Roost, with the eo tive of an authorI can lead the kin er into the old rock-bound house, and divulge a mystery still unsolved in the minds of those who now dwell upon the Irish coast, and who — to believe the superstitious legends ded down to them from their forefathers, than bave the vail of romance drawn aside by stern truth. One stormy night, a few days after the un- successful visit of the Earl of Belmont to Castle Crag, Sir Hurtel was pacing to and fro in his rooms, his hands behind his back, his eyes down- — and his whole manner that of deep medi- on, Upon a divan near the window sat a woman, | her eyes following Sir Hurtel’s every step, an her face wearing a look of anxiety when his back was turned in his walk, and a smile when- ever he faced towards her. - Suddenly he halted before the woman and asked tersely: Do you Think they will come?” ‘* Yes,” was the low reply. ‘* But the storm?’ “It will not deter them, for they have no fear ‘on land or sea.” an ‘Nor do I; the word is not in my vocabulary ; did I fear, would I do what now Iam doing for you?” he asked, sternly. “Ts it all for me? Is there not away down in your heart a feeling of revenge that burns totter than your love for me?” asked the wo- man, quietly. tie “Let my actions, not my words speak— hark!” “Tt was but the wind, Hurtel.” "No, it was a knock—come in!” The door one and old Cormac entered, his face sad and pale, and his form wrapped ina ex cloak. - “The vessel is in sight, Sir Hurtel, and is ‘heading for the castle landing. » A pallor spread momentarily over the face of Sir Hurtel at Cormac’s words, but forcing a smile, he turned toward the woman, and said: “Come, we must be at the sea stairs, as I wish to get a good offing before the break of day.” ' Tam ready,” and rising, she threw around. ther splendid form a heavy wrap, and entering ‘an adjoining room, left Cormac alone with his master. W ue “Oh, Sir Hurtel, will you, must you go?” “Yes: I must follow in the Path that Destiny ‘would lead me,” sadly answered Sir Hurtel. Py will lead you to your death, good mas- I’. ; irae Dees pienas, read. t it; but, ever fo please, I am y to meet it; bu poet fn! aiters, and light us to the sea stairs, Cormac.” “The old man turned sadly from the room, just as the lady re-entered, and following her i tena en, and roving be to see him,” very so | while my heart let death come in whatso= about, as though peering for some hole through which to see what was in the future for it, Sir Hurtel leant over and touched his lips to the baby face, and passing his arm around the wo- man led her from the room, Klpsey slowly fol- lowing. Along the corridor they went until they reached the sea tower, and there stood Cormac, lantern in hand, awaiting them. Down the stone stairway he led them, until they seemed descending deep into the very earth; but at last he paused by a heavy iron door, and turned a huge key creakingly in the rey lock, while Sir Hurtel removed a massive r. Outside was now heard the roar of the waves striking upon the rock that formed the castle’s base, and as the door swung open a gustof wind te in with great violence, causing Sir Hurtel to draw his fair companion closer to him, and a faint ery to come from the midst of the wraps in old Elpsey’s arms. ‘“"There’s the vessel, Sir Hurtel,” said Cor- mac. “Yes, and within a length of the steps; and skillfully handled too,” answered the master of Castle Crag, as a small, two-masted galley of sixty tons, was skillfully laid alongside the rock at the base of the sea tower. With a bound half a dozen dark forms were on shore and one advancing, said politely: * Ah, I see that you await us. “Yes: what we take with us you will find aia the tower,” and turning to the wo- man Sir Hurte} said simply: * “Come!” A wailing cry broke from the lips of the wo- man, and springing toward Wey she moeped the infant in her arms, saying in pin ve mes: ‘“‘ My baby, my baby, farewell! farewell! Hot tears fell upon that wee face, and hotter kisses were pressed to the baby’s lips, and then the woman ed away, holding out the little — to Sir Lois we : bis: ips wii e stern man bent over, uiv and his voice trembling, as he said in a low tone: . '* My child, farewell.” Oh, ipeny and you Cormac, I leave my in this grim old le with you, far away; farewell, fare- well!” and, as if dreading to trust herself longer near her child, the sorrowing mother turned quickly away, and, with a word of adieu to his two faithful old:servants, Sir Hurtel quickly followed, and the next moment the two were upon the ’s deck. And then followed the line of seamen hasting the luggage, a low, stern order to cast-off, an the bows swung slowly around under the im- pulse ot the sweeps. But at that moment a tall form darted out of the shadow of the high stern, his arm uplifted, and facing Sir Hurtel, said savagely: ** Die! and by Santos the Gipsy’s hand !” Into the broad breast of Sir Hurtel was driven the keen blade, and down upon the deck sunk the strong man, a groan of agony ep 5 with the shriek that burst from the lips of the woman. : ; And away dashed the Gipsy after his fiendish work, and, with a mighty bound he sprung from the galley’s high stern = th darted along the rocks toward t a dozen voices mati “ Fire on him! kill hifn!” Heariug the cry, and knowing his danger the Gipsy, with mighty bounds reached the spot where old Cormac and Elpsey stood, and tear- ing the child from her arms, sped away up the steep rocks, holding the precious burden at his side as a shield, and causing the dozen muske- topns leveled at him to be lowered. ‘Cowards! why do you not ”? Came in ringing tones from the woman’s lips, as the gal- ley swung further and further away. ‘* We dare not! he bas the child!” cried one. “Give me your weapon,” and seizing it the woman rai it quickly at the flying form, now a hundred feet above on the dizzy path, and the flash and report followed. ; A cry t from the lips of the daring fugi- tive, and staggering he fell from the cliff, down, down into the dark waters below. “T have killed him! ay, and my child too!” The first was in triumphant tones; the second a plaintive moan, and down upon the deck, across the motionless form of Sir Hurtel, sink the poor woman, while a fearful gale swept down from the hights above, and catching t sails of the galley drove her furiously over the waters, and sent old Cormac and Elpsey in haste into the tower, trembling with . titious horror, and wailing with grief. CHAPTER V. KATE ®F BELMONT. A scorn of years have ela kind reader, since thas sgh of storm he ma 5 galley. sailed from the sea tower of Castle Crag, and Time, the 1, or no longer but | the Black Flag. EER ETT RRO EE TT REI Te a rT ee e , and e castle, while © mysterious t consoler and destroyer, has Pera eon oh A a4 4) og me seb tis wlght- 4 ie » birds and any wild beast that cared to make his den there. Its iron door, through which the proud Earl of Belmont, twenty years before, had been re- fused admittance, now hangs on one hinge, and the entrance to the sea tower is crumbli g te decay, while moss grows on the turrets, the court-yard is choked with rank weeds, and deso: lation and ruin rests upon all. No longer known as Castle Crag, or Hurtel’s Roost, the dismal name of Castle Death has fall- en upon it, and the shepherd afar off on the hill looks at it and shudders, for dark stories are told of the weird old ruin since one day, shortly after the sailing of the strange galley from the bay, a traveler stopped for shelter, and the por- 1 being half wed, he entered, to start back with affright, for before him Jay old Cormac and Elpsey, slain by the knife of an assassin. The startling story soon flew far and wide, and many there were who visited the castle in the vain endeavor to solve the mysterious mur- der; and then it was found that Sir Hurtel and the strange woman who had been seen there were gone no one knew where, and the master of Castle Crag was set down as the murderer of the old couple. In the court-yard Cormac and Elpsey were buried, and from that day no one went near Hurtel’s org nese slowly went to ruin, for the Earl of Belmont, even, shunned it as he would a pest-house, and held in his heart bitter memories against the brother he now looked upon as a murderer and wanderer from his na- tive land. F But, though Castle Death, deserted and avoid- ed by all, crumbled to ruin, Castle Cor wore no lcok of mourning for its rival across the ba ; but on the con loomed up more grandly each year, until skilled masons made of it a lovely palace, and turned the rocky court and unds into a very Eden of bean, for the rl of Belmont lavishly expended bis riches to make bis home all that could be desired, for to the house of Belmont a daughter had been born, who, as she grew to maidenhood, strange- ly resembled her mother, when, at her age, she had won the hearts of the two brothers, the one to wreck, the other to make bappy, even though he knew full well that away back in her heart there still burned > flame of aftect:on for the wandering Hurtel. As much as Sir Gerald, the heir to the proud name of Earl of Belmont was disliked for his overbearing manner toward his inferiors, the Lady Kate, two years the mies of her brother, was beloved by all who knew her, from the noblemen and gentry, who sought to win her heart and hand, down to the humblest peasant on the lands of Castle Cor. That she was beautiful, none would deny who. saw her standing upon the lawn that run from the castle wall to the brink of the precipice overhanging the sea, and watching a sail far off upon the waters. She had been amusing herself for some time practicing at a target with bow and arrow, until her eyes caught sight of the vessel, and it lured her from her sport to watch its graceful motions, as it rose and fell upon the waves. _ Leaning upon her long bow, which was richly inlaid and carved with w n attitude displayed her faultless form to ec- tion, attired as she was in a blue velvet jacket, one skirt of like material looped up for conve- ence in walking, yet so as to disp y a shapely foot incased in a_ tight-fitting, p pire boot, and a a spowy plumes sheltering her red-gold curls, y Her deep-blue eyes, exquisitely chiseled fea- tures, and earnest, innocent face, would have won the heart of any one, man or woman, who Jooked upon her as she stood thus gazing out upon the sea, and forming a picture of rare beauty, with the d old | to the right, and the stately oaks, and here and there a linden dotting the lawn and forming a background. Suddenly the sound of boof-strokes reaching her ears, broke her reverie, and she turned antekts, just as a loud cry was heard, and a voice shout- ed the thrilling werneae “Fly! for the love of God, fly!” One glance and ‘her eyes took in the scene—a horseman and horsewoman dasbing along the road to the castle gate, and from the former the cry had come, while he spurred toward her to | shield her from threatened death, for with low- | ered antlers, charging w her, was a huge stag, the moaarek of the forest, who bad ety near, and observing ber in his domain, hed etermined to avenge with her death, The flushed cheeks of Kate of Belmont paled, for well she knew her danger; bat ber presence of mind did not desert her, and she sprung toward her quiver of arrows. But alas! it was arrowless, for the darts were hundred feet, away, and one-fourth that distance of her, and the horse- man, though apuering madly forward, was too far away tosave her fromdeath, To fly was rg age yee that winged- footed stag, and to over dash ar | : ‘ ‘ . 7 ih ee 4 hang nd devices, her intrusion — J all sticking in the notre Sige Prag! 5m : e itl cliff wasto
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7 ila Se eee % vials Frais a you.” ing cf the Pe ERT A LD A TS ———— eee eee eee her lips, Kate of Belmont sunk upon her knees, Henge, | herself to the death she felt must be hers, and which her proud, brave heart, would make her face undauntedly. But suddenly, when the ragged antlers of the fierce stag were within ten feet of her, and the horserman and horsewoman drew up in borror, the latter to cover ber face with her hands to shut out the fearful scene, there came the sbarp twang of a bow string, a steel-headed ar- row sped on its way, and sunk to the feather | in the huge body of the maddened forest mon- arch Down in his tracks sunk the stag, and, her full length upon the green lawn fell Kate of | Belmont, unseeing the tall form that came bounding toward her, bow,in hand and a second arrow bent for use. But a second shot was needless, for the first had been unerringly aimed, as the stag lay dead where he ‘had fallen, his sharp antlers driven deep into the sparen and his hairy body almost touching the fair form of Lady Kate, who had sunke upon the soft greensward in a deep swoon. ‘“ A brave shot that, my lad, and worthy the t Robin Hood himself,” cried the horseman and springing to the ground, while asbing u the one who had sent the fatal shaft, stood with flushed face, looking down upon the maiden, and seemingly not daring to raise her from the ground. CHAPTER VI. THE NOBLE AND THE PEASANT. THOUGH’ the one who had fired the ame 9 shot that brought down the stag, seemed diffi- dent about raising Kate of Belmont from the ground, not so with the horseman, who sprung quickly from his steed, and knelt by her side, while he took her small, gloved hand in his own, and said sternly : “ Quick! bring me water to dash in her face; be quick, I say! ‘Here is my flask, Lord of Meredith,” was the py i response, and the archer handed it to the horseman, who was about to dash the con- tents into the pale, but beautiful face, when the fringed eyelids were raised, and Kate of Bel- mont looked up at the one bending over her, and said softly, while a shudder passed over her ame: ‘Ah! Tam safe then, and to you Lord Manly I owe my life.” The face of the young noble flushed, but he said evasively: set eee “T am glad to see you recovered, Lady Kate.” Placing her hand upon his arm she rose to her feet, just as there approached a maiden, of al- most equal beauty as Kate of Belmont, and who had been the companion of Lord Manly. Dismounting from her horse, when she saw that Lady Kate was unhurt, she now rushed up ew her arms around her, crying ear- nestly. Ps ae os Ob, Kate! how near you were to death, and how I rejoice in your rescue; but no, indeed, Manly Meredith did not fire the arrow that saved here,” and ra Grace, of Greyhurst Castle and a cousin of Kate of Belmont, approach the embarrassed archer, and extending her hand, continued: aii ‘* And 1 thank you from my heart for saving the life of my sweet cousin.” “ And it is to you, Kenton Cavanaugh, that I | awe my life? I might have known no other hand and eye could send an arrow as you have done; here, let me clasp the hand that saved me, and ever remember that in Kate of Belmont you have a true friend.” The one he ad d was attired as a bunts- man, and one in the lower waiks of life; but his costume, though not of rich texture became him well, and fitted his splendid form, as though *twere made by the same tailor who cut the vel- vet riding-suit worn by the Pong Lord Manly. With a face that was darkly bronzed by ex- re, there was yet upon every feature the stamp of intellect and character, and in his dark eyes there dwelt a power of fascination few men could boast of, and, knowing him to be the son of a poor fisherman of the coast, the haughty oung Lord Manly was angered at the kindly ne of — Kate in addressing him, and spoke up quickly: PTs as a fair shot, Lady Kate; but the fel- low but did his duty, and, had it been neces- sary, should have sacrificed his life to save thine.” “‘T would gladly have given my life, Lord of Meredith, to save the Lady Kate from harm,” was the reply of the young huvter, in as haugh- a tone as that used by the noble, whose face hed with anger as he hotly responded: “ By the Cross! but thou art become imper- _ tinent fellow.” Unbeeding the remark of Lord Manly, the - huntsman raised bis game.bag from the ground and touching his hat to Kate of Belmont, sai . with deep a ig ; “Lady Kate, I have "agg here for the castle, ben I saw {our danger, bitber I was going w hen bappy to have served “Stay. Kenton Cavanaugh, I would not in- Pe et aid I am more ~ * ou, but this handsome young man | | sult you by offering you gold for what thou | hast done; but you are poor, and [ know earn | your living by your hunting and fishing, and I would that you allow me in some way to reward you. | Kenton ee face turned crimson, and seeing it, Lord Manly said etna be ‘*Forsooth, he blushes like a lover about to ask the hand and love of his lady.” ‘‘For shame, Lord Meredith, to insult one who, not being your peer, cannot resent an in- jury,” said te of Belmont with evident anger, while her co&sin, Lady Grace, cried: ** Well said, cousin mine, and if Lord Manly repeats the offense I will look upon Kenton Cav- | anaugh as the most noble.” The young peer bit his lip angrily and his eyes flashed, but he made no reply, and the | huntsman again spoke: : “Lady Kate, you have given me, in your | friendship, a greater reward than I could ask; | may Ialways deserve your respect.” “By the gray castle of Meredith, but I will not listen to a peasant’s fine speeches to thee, | Lady Kate of Belmont, but punish him as he deserves for daring to address you as he has,” and the angry Lord Manly strode forward, whip in hand, for a lover of Lady Kate, his | jealousy got the best of his reason for the ; moment. Kenton Covenenes turned calmly toward him, as he advanced, and there was a dangerous light flashed up into his dark eyes; but uvheeding the cry of both Lady Kate and her cousin to stay his hand, he brought the whip down with heavy foree upon the shoulder of the young huntsman. Stinging under the insult and unheeding the law that one of humble birth dare not raise his hand against a noble, Kenton Cavanaugh seized the whip, tore it from the hand of the insulter, and grasping him in a clutch of iron burled him to the ground with a force that momentarily stunned him. | “Ob Kenton, what have you done?” cried | Kate, in alarm. ‘*Ay, young man, you have struck a noble- man,” said Grace, with an angry flush on ber ace, “T have resented an insult offered me, and were he of royal blood I would do the like | again; but I crave pardon, Lady Kate of Bel- mont, for losing my temper in your presence.” “Cavanaugh, you have just ay my life, and, as Lord Manly acted cowardly to insult and then strike you, so I cannot condemn you; but go, or he will take ed life,” and ‘te | spoke gpa while La 4 Grace said: “Yes, fly while you can.” ‘* No, I will not fly from any danger, even at po command, Lady Kate,” and turning to Tie ons aad tee patcaanaiie ie ioe e one da en : “And to you, ant oF Me if will say ‘that peasant though you call me, and noble thoug ire be by birth? will not shun you, and my home, should you wish to find me, you ; know full well.” “Ha! is this a challenge, fellow?’ burst from Lord Manly’s lips. ‘* As you please, noble,” and raising bis hat to the surprised Lady Kate and her as- tonished cousin, Kenton Cavanaugh slung his bow and quiver upon his back, and strode on to La the castle with the bag of game, the result of | . | his afternoon’s hunt. ‘* Peasant though Kenton Cavanaugh be by birth, he isa nobleman by nature, Lord Manly,” said of Belmont, as the young hunter walked away. “Ay, and peasant as he is, his life shall be a pemeiy for this day’s work,” hissed Lord anly. ; cs You gave the insult, and_he but resented it, my Lord of Meredith,” said Lady Kate. ‘By the Cross! but you uphold that lew-born dog in what he has dane, and admire him for it I verily believe,” and the noble became pallid with rage, while Lady Kate calmly replied: ‘““T admire any man who has the nerve to re- sent an insult, my Lord of Meredith, and I ad- mire Kenton Cavanaugh more because I owe it to him that I am not lying at your feet mangled andy the Chastening R e ning Rod! but I believe you love this dastard Bower Lady Kate of Bel. mont, but you shall weep over dead, rather than smile on him living.” . ‘Lord Manly of Meredith, you have gone too far: yah P Exesenc’. gt and Lady Kate’s eyes flashe ngerously, while her li iver- ed with emotion " Fisch es hig Instantly the oung noble saw the mistake of his words, and dropping upon one knee he said earnestly: Pardon I crave, sweet Lady Kate; for I was mad and knew not what I said. pointed toward the highway. ‘ “ hid and forget my words, I 5 se __ Hesaw that she was unyielding, and rising to his feet he strode toward his horse, and throw- i ing biMsele into the saddle dashed away like the wind; Kenton on rs a ae “made when sbe wasac Black Flag. 5 CHAPTER VII. KENTON CAVANAUGH’S OATH. THx young fisherman, or huntsman, for he was h, passing his time almost equally ujpwus the sea fishing, or in the forests hunting, deserves more than the passing notice given of him in ihe foregoing chapter, as he is destined to pisy a prominent t in the pages of this story of the ocean the olden time when the »pawe of Kyd was a terror to mariners from the Mediterranean to the Gulf of Mexico. Though scarcely over twenty years of age his py was perfect, as he was tall, with road shoulders, a slender waist and small hands and feet that would more become the noble than the peasant. a His face, as I have before said, was dark} bronzed, and his eyes were his most remarkable feature, being soft and gentle almost to sadness: in moments of calm: but, when aroused to an- ger they fairly burned, and his habit, when eeply moved, of lowering his brows, caused them to fairly blaze, and seemingly to emit. fiery gleams, like flashes of lightning bursting out of a thunder-cloud. Carrying himself with: the air of a high-borm youth, and with his dark, waving hair falling upon his shoulders, his coarse, though well-fit- ting hunting-suit alone distinguished him as one not of noble lineage; but of humble origin though he was, he possessed an independence of spirit, and pride of character not compatible with a poor fisher lad, and a fearlessness that the reader has ne a exhibited when in- —— by the young Lord Manly of Meredith taste, Stopping at the side entrance of tae casile, and opening upon the lawn, Kenton Cavanaugh celled to the pompous butler, delivered to him the geme for ile earl, aud which he bad orders to furnish for the nobleman’s table twice each week, and strode on round the wall toward the cliff, dovn which a steep and rugged pathway led to the beach. , As he went along it was evident that he was deeply moved; but it was not by the scene with Lord Manly, or his threat; on the con- trary it was because what he had not dared cieam of kefore be now knew was reality—hbe loved Kate of Castle Cor. Peasant though he was, and the daughter of an earl as she was, he loved ber, and to his own heart be could not longer disguise the truth. When a little girl be had often killed for ber a noble eagle, and sent herthe wings, or brought down a splendid stag with far-branching antlers, and made her the recipient of this proof of bis skill with the bow and arrow, while in many other ways he had shown his interest in the sweet little maid of Castle Cor. And Lady Kate, knowing that Kenton Cava- naugh, bumble Jad though he was, was the truest archer in all the coun near, and the best sailor on the coast, she could not withhold her admiration, especially. when, as a horse- man be had no equal among the young nobles of her acquaintance, and was engaged by her father, the ear], to train the refractory steeds in his stables, while, added to all of his accomplish-. ments he was certainly the kandsomest young man she had ever seen, she felt herself irresisti- bly drawn toward bim, though the idea that she, Lady Kate of Belmont and Castle Cor. could love a poor’ fisher lad, had never entered her head, Besides, was she not, through an agreement ild, between her father and the old Earl of Meredith, the promised wife of Lord Manly, the boon companion ¢t ber brother, Sir Gerald? No, the thought of loving Kenton Cavunaugh had never entered the haughty head cf the Leautiful gir) until] the moment she felt that sbe owed to him her life, and then her fece flushed with the revelation of the secret her heart had securely held, and in very shame she had dropped her eyes before the hunteman when he stood before her, as’proud, and far aap than Lord Manly, her accepted over. And this very circumstance brought to Ker- ton Cavanaugh, as he wended bis way to his bumble home, that Lady Kate Belmont was dearer to him than all the world besides, and © he groaned in agony of spirit as he felt how far apart in life his path and bers must lead. “Qh God! what a curse is birth, if it elevates one and lowers another,” be muttered; and, es he swung himself recklessly A unerring- ly down the cliff, and gaining the beach walked swiftly along, he continued: ‘‘ Curses my low-born lot that keeps me from the side of that beautiful being, whom now I know I love with all the passionate idolatry of my strong nature. ‘** Am I not like those they noble? “Ts there one of them with eye as true, and hand as steady with the bow and arrow? “Go! Lord of Meredith,” and Lady Kate | a there one cron I cannot crush with my greater “Ay YY not a sailor as well asa landsman, and has not my good old father taught me the mys- terirs of learning until 1 am their equal, if not their supericr in knowledge of men and the great wide world? pars a ¥ aA
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NEC ah 7 : augh’s 6 Captain Kyd, the King of eee on her without reproof; but, low-born frou h I be, I know that love knows no rank, and this day will I cast off the yoke of a peas- ant, a slave, and raise my head and my voice among men; yes, I will yet teach the haughty nobles that a serf can win a name as proud as their own, for now am I the architect of my own destiny, and I shall make for myself a glo- rious title, or fall beneath the ruins of my am- bition— Ha! yonder comes before my eyes the means I will grasp: — beautiful vessel of war dashing so grandly toward the bay! ** Are all men on her deck noble? . No! but yet many are famous, and their names will go down in history—ay, and so shall mine: I swear it by the throbbing heart within my breast!” CHAPTER VIII. THE KING'S CRUISER. Back under the rocky cliff, upon which stood Castle Cor, sheltered by the towering rocks in the rear, and by a low growth of rugged trees upon either side, but open toward the sea, stood an humble cot, built of stout poles, and with the crevices filled in with clay. Across the front was a shelter or roof, form- ing what through courtesy we will call a piazza, though the flooring was the solid earth: but here was the favorite resort, in fair weather, of the two occupants of the cabin, for, when seated upon the rustic benches resting against the wall, they commanded a fine view of the ocean, the coast to the left, and of Castle Cor, rising grandly up above their heads almost, to the fi. iften, when seated there on balmy evenings, listening to the wash of the surf, the two hum- ble dwellers in that lowly cabin would hear the merry laughter of gay company up at the cas- tle, floating down to them, or perhaps the strains of niusic, with, ever and anon, a clear, melodious voice in song, which could not but set to throbbing the heart of one of the listeners. And that one was Kenton Cavanaugh, for in that little cottage he dwelt, with Dermot the fisherman whom he called father, and such he had ever been tohim. — , Seated in front of the cot, as Kenton ap- proached, that afternoon after his scene on the ee Ewe was the old fisherman mending his ne He was aman of dignified mien and noble bearing in spite of his coarse pants, jacket and stout ts, and a close observer would have said that he had not always led the humble life he then followed, especially when a glance into the interior of the cot showed a neatness, com- fort, and articles of refinement incompatible with the home of a low-bred and ignorant man, for there were books in severa) foreign tongues, a rare painting here and there hanging upon the wall, and a few rare species of the sculptor’s art, and other indications that the old fisherman was at heart a lover of the refined and beautiful, be his lot in life ever so humble. ‘“*Well, Kenton, what luck to-day in your hunt?” asked old Dermot Cavanaugh, as the outh approached, and he looked up with a ndly smile of welcome. Good luck in the sport, father, better luck in having served the sweet Lady Kate, and bad luck in having offended the noble Lord Manly of Meredith Castle,” said Kenton, with bitterness in his tone when he referred to the young noble- man. Sy mageseneed old Dermot glanced at him, and “Nay, boy, you have allowed that hot temper of yours to run away with your judgment, I fear; come, tel] me about what happened.” In a few words the young man told all that had passed, and the old erman shook his head slowly. ‘Ah, Kenton, you have built up for yourself trouble in the fiiture, for the Meredith blood never forgives nor forgets an injury.” “Nor does Kenton Cavanaugh, father; he struck me and 1 threw him to the earth and would have placed my foot on his neck, had not a ie! the sweet Lady Kate recalled me to myself, rar ‘Boy! boy! you are treasuring up sorrow in that quarter, too, for I have not been blind to Sewid igh ambition; do not ba a fool, Kenton, ‘or we are but as serfs, and the nobility are masters, and we must do as they will.” “T, for one, will not, father; nor do I believe you are of such craven heart, tor the words are unworthy your utterance.” “Kenton, do you awd, to whom you speak?” asked the old man, sternly, Instantly the youth’s manner changed, and he said fra’ ‘ are mate me, father; but I was wrought up by the thought that we were looked upon as pid slaves, when we are men such as they are, y different in the accident of birth.” A strange smile came , and his lips twice moved as though ped seat but a nd thought seemed to check the ; but after a while he said calmly: good ” have a desire to get a m Dermot Cavan-. boat for a sail over the a inet ‘ot re ' | The rioon. now nm, and ‘at a -he had brought bome nearer view of an armed vessel that has round- ed Castle Cor headland and run into the bay to anchor,” ‘““An armed vessel, did you say, boy?’ and the old man spoke quickly’ and with an excite- ment of manner he in vain tried to conceal. ‘Yes, father; but why should it move you so to hear it?” “Ah, my boy, you little know, you little know; but go in thy skiff, take a supply of fish with you, and the game tbat remains in th bag, and board the vessel; then return and tell me all that thou hast fourA out regarding her and her business in these quiet waters.” ‘* Tt has been said that a piratical vessel has been seen in these waters of late, father.” ‘* True, true; she doubtless is on the hunt for pirates; but go, Kenton, and I will await thy coming with anxiety.” ; “But why sbomid you be anxious regarding me, father?” asked the young man, surprised b the nervous manner exhibited by the old fisher- man, “ They may seize thee, boy, and earry thee to obhedt’ info as a sailor.” “3 **T would care but little, for it would be the em ag from the forecastle to the quarter- deck, which I am determined one day to tread.” “You dream, Kenton, you dream, and dreams have sad awakenings; but quick, seek the vessel, and tell me of her on your return.” Glad to have an excuse to board the armed craft, Kenton pevenang took up the game or their own use, an with a basket of fresh fish went down to the beach, where lay, keel up, several ts. Selecting the largest he ran it into the sea, pan ay a small mast, hoisted a leg-of-mutton sail, and before the light breeze glided along the coast toward the headland on which stood Castle Cor, As he rounded the rocky pact he eng up, and beheld a small group looking down upon the strange vessel, which had anchored close in under the shelter of Castle Death, and his heart ave a t throb as he recognized the fair orm of Lady Kate. ‘‘He is not there, for I see the earl, the countess, Lady Grace of Greyhurst, and her to whom my high hopes will fly, guard them as I may; bah! I believe I am a fool, to dare raise amy eyes to Kate of Castile Cor.” ’ He said no more, but headed for the vessel of war, and was within twenty boat-lengths, when a voice hailed: “ Boat ahoy! do you intend to run down the king’s cruiser?” enton put his helm down, and as the skiff swept round, ansv wered: ‘*T have fresh fish and game I wished to offer for sale,” ““Come alongside, my beauty, for welcome indeed,” answered a rough, but not unkind voice, and a moment after the young man went over the side, his game-bag in one hand, his basket of fish in the other. Instantly be a ready market for all he had, and at a good price; but the. beautiful vessel interested him more than the sale, and he gazed admiringly upon the tapering masts, the delicate tracery of the rigging, the snowy sails, and the fearless-looking crew, who seemed so able and willing to man and fight the large black guns. ““My lad, you gaze on our pretty craft with asailor’s eye, and as though you would like a cruise in her,” said the tswain who had hailed him. “T would give my good right arm to get a berth on this vessel,” impulsively answered the youth, and with a smile the subaltern replied: ‘* That would unfit you for sea service; but I think the captain would take you in the fore- castle, and many a youngster, with less grit than you seem to have, has boarded a royal cruiser over the cat-head, and afterward paced the quarter-deck.” ** And you think I could get a berth?” angen asked Kenton, seeing the path to fame suddenly opening before him, . **T'll guarantee it, lad.” * “Then I will return home, and if I can sail with you, I'll be back before eight bells,” and going over the side into his skiff the youth was soon fying homeward with a flowing sheet. But twilight had crept over land and sea, and the group on the battlements of Castle Cor were invisible to Kenton, if they still were there; but bright lights streamed out over the water; and one shone more brilliantly than the others, and from the wing in which Kenton Cavanaugh knew were the rooms of Lady Ka and her cousin Lady Grace, who was on a visi to her, and the promised wife of Sir Gerald. . Running in the wake of the light s ng over the waters, Kenton Cavanaugh took it as a good omen, and, feeling that he could make better time ee than sailing after he round- ed the Cor headland, he ran close in under the castle and landed. ‘ ? Swiftly along the beach he strode until sud- denly he came to a halt, for down the steep ou are petieey from the hights above, came two L fore Kenton Cavanaugh recognized ance the Black Flag. him, and doffing his cap, he said with marked respect: Your servant, Lady Kate and Lady Grace,” They had, at sight of him, turned as if to fly but seeing who it was had advanced and me him, and Lady Kate said quickly: “Kenton Cayaraugh, it is you whom we seek.” He seemed surprised, yet pleased,.and an- swered bitterly: ‘* How can one so bumble as I serve you, a high born ace *“Cavanaugh, you are too sensitive for one in your walk in life, and I fear you will imbitter your whole future; but you have served me, and nobly too, and I have come to ask you to grant me a favor?” ‘* A favor, Lady Kate? J grant youa favor?” ‘Yes, will you do so, Cavanaugh?” “Tf it were to the giving up my life for you,” he said passionately, and Kate fairly started at his intensity, while Lady Grace fixed her fine eyes upon bis dark, handsome face with the look of one who had penetrated a mask and read the secret revealed beneath, ‘No, Cavanaugh, I ask no great sacrifice of you; but knowing that you would accept no gold from me—” “Lady Kate,” he said, reproachfully. : ‘‘There is your pride again, Kenton; but I repeat, knowing that you would accept no gold from me, I asked my father to give you a letter to the commander of the cruiser anchored in the bay, and he bas done so: here it is, and on her decks there is a future before you far above that of fisherman and hunter, ifso you will it.” The eyes of the youth flashed fire, and his voice trembled as he answered; ‘Lady Kate, Iam now on my way to beg m old father’s permission to ship in yonder vessel, and from my heart I thank you and your noble father for all you have done for me; you. have made a new being of me, and if Ido not win a name and honor, then indced am I unworthy the friendship you co kindly gave me to-day. ‘* Farewell, y Kate; farewell Lady Grace, for I sail on the king’s cruiser, and if 1 am low- born, my name shall be linked with the names of nobles.” ‘ He took the letter, and impulsively Kate Bel- mons grasped his hand, and said, in trembling “Farewell, Cavanaugh, and prosperity and honor be thine.” sate ~ She turned away quickly, and with a wave of the hand to the youth, Lady Grace followed singing half aloud, so that her words reached her cousin’s ears, and aptly sueneme the words to suit herself and tease Lady Kate: “So the laird ho married the lady, The lady of high degree; And the fisher laddie she loved so well Sailed far away o’er the sea. * And oh! where would my heart be?’ Was ever her constant cry, ~ ‘For now that I’ve dared to marry the Jaird, My laddie will surely die.’ ”’ ‘“Grace! Grace, what nonsense is that you are singing?’ cried Lady Kate suddenly, well know- ing every word she had sung. “Oh, it’s only a little Scotch ballad, half mine, half the author’s, and about a laird and lady of high degree, and a fisher lad of humble origin,” answered the gay girl. ; Tut! tut! you wicked cousin to tease me be- cause I wish to do a favor to a youth who saved me from a death.” ¥ “An exceedingly handsome perth withal, nobler in appearance than any titled personage of our acquaintance, as proud as Lucifer, and with, oh! such glorious eyes.” ‘*]T will hear no more, cousin mine; come, let us stroll out on the Jawn to the scene of to day’s adventure, for my father, the earl, has ordered all the deer driven from the park since my es- cape this afternoon;” and linking her arm in her cousin’s, she led the way along the path, past the castle, to the spot where she had so nearly met her death a few hours before, CHAPTER IX. A FATAL MISTAKE. Upon leaving the Lady Kate and her cousin Grace, Kenton Cavanaugh walked slowly on toward his home, his heart deeply moved, hig brain ina whirl. ; His hopes now kept : pas with his ambitio and he felt that he at last taken the first = ascend the ladder of fame. -In his lonely cabin sat old Dermot the fisher+ man, awai the return of the youth he loved so well, and meditating upon some subject that was evidently of a sad nature, for his face was full of gloom. “Ah, boy, you have returnédy” he said, as _ Kenton entere ‘Yes, father, and the amount the fish and me brought more than repaid the trouble; t tell me, have we much in our box father?” “A hundred rix-dollars, or so, Kenton; bu why do you wet a - us am going away, father, and wished to leave you abows Rea st ee ‘és Going away, my sont Do you mean to say 3s ae 7 “NG "
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a, Ps iy + i ‘he, Lady Grace?” cousin Gerald: at least such men as we meet ‘that you are going to desert your old father mow that the snows of sixty winters have whitened his head?” asked the old man sadly. ‘‘Pather, I must. You have given me an education superior to that of nobles; you have taught me to be ambitious, and to feel myself a man, and the result is that I shall prove myself -one, for I go to-night on board the cruiser in whatsoever capacity they may take me.” ““Do you mean this, Kenton?’ “I do, father, for I will no longer be a serf, but win a name that will bring joy to your heart.” ‘You may never return. “But I will; destiny will not be thus cruel to me.” ’ ‘*Kenton, not a wordof mine shall deter you, and, upon the whole, I think it best, for 1 am not blind, and can see that you have been allow- ing our heart torun riot with your brain. ‘JT have ample funds to keep me, even should 1 dono work fora year, and you have it in you to make a name; go, and may God guide yoa is my prayer.” The voice of the old man trembled, and Ken- ton, too, was deeply moved; but he cast off the gloom creeping over him, and set to work making his arrangements, his father aiding him all in his power, and telling him he would see him on board the cruiser. Half an hour after, with his worldly goods ‘tied up in a kerchief, half a dozen rix dollars in his pocket, and a stout heart, he sprung into the skiff, and his father following, took the tiller. Seated upon the juttin ‘her own wing of the castle, Kate Belmont saw the little boat put out from the shore, and called ‘her-cousin, who was in an adjoining room. “There he goes, Grace, and—” “ And he carries a maiden’s heart with him, <cousin mine.” ‘““Why, Grace, do you love the handsome fisher lad?” ” “Very dearly, for my sweet cousin’s sake; | but, joking aside, I am g d he has gone, for f£ ‘know the nature of Lord Manly too well to for a moment think he would forget the youth; and it was a lucky thought of yours to get him out of the way of your jealous lover.” ‘*T fear I was too severe with Lord Manly to- day; but he should have known better than to be jealous of an humble fisher-lad.” “It depends upon the lad, Kate, and also “apon the woman; besides, love is a queer disease, and strikes the high and low alike,” said Lady Grace. “You speak from experience then, cousin **Oh yes, for I hawe loved half a dozen times, and yet I could love but once, when it comes to the bona fide article; but see how the Jad’s skiff glides over the water; be will soon reach the cruiser, and then his — leads him—” “ Where#” asked Lady Kate as her cousin paused, | ‘He is the architect of his own fortune; he ‘will either become a great man, or—” oe she paused, and Lady Kate asked: ‘Or what, Grace?” “Ora very bad one, for Kenton Cavanaugh will Ru nagpen os half-way.” “Why what a prophetess you appear; but God grant he become great apd good.’ ‘“* Amen! but here comes your brother,” and as Lady Grace spoke there entered the room a oung man in hunter’s dress. His face was strangely like his sister’s, for the oung man was Lord Gerald, the first-born of he Earl and Countess of Belmont. But there was a look of recklessness and dissi- pation ec a his face that marred its beauty and fnanliness, and one would not have to be long in his society to have it proven that he was an arrogant, wild young sprig, the idol of his parents, and an object of aversion to the peasants on the estate of Castle Cor. ‘‘Ah, here I find you, moping like two old maids; but Kate, what is the trouble with you and Lord Manly?’ asked the young noble, throwing himself into a chair. “He was so rude as to insult a person who saved my life to-day, and I drove him from my = : “‘It was only the fisher lad, Cavanaugh, and ‘whom he believed impertinent.” * And Cavanaugh is dof a heart and a —_ and is the nobler of the two,” was the hot reply of Lady Kate. ‘By the Rood! how you never ws how to under Kate: but one a woman, does ‘* Men are incapable of understanding women nowadays.” ; “Whew! well, Ill not bandy words with follow; but, Lord Manly seemed burt deeply, poor fel- ve me this letter for you, as I Meredith Castle on my return from se, to wet my parched throat with a f wine; but see, the cruiser is under sail ling out of the bay, so I will go on the baleony of stone, in | : —— eee askéd; ““Who is it, Kate, that your brother knows on the cruiser?’ ‘*T do not know—yes—oh God! Grace, it is Lord Manly Meredith,” and Lady Kate dropped her face in her hands; but only for an instant, as her cousin sprung quickly to her side in sur- prise. “See, it is Lord Manly, for listen to his let- ter,” and she read aloud: ‘* MEREDITH CASTLE. ‘*Lapy Kare Betmonrt, of ; * Castle Cor. ‘* Driven from your presence to-day, by your com- mand, I obey, though I had hoped that 1 was ere long to have the honor of claiming you as my bride, and, so believing, I had sent in my resignation to the Admiralty, as an officer in the navy, intending to devote my future life to you. “ But instead of an acceptance of my resignation; Tam ordered on duty at once, and the cruiser now in the bay came to bear me away, perhaps forever, — my native land, and te you I now bid fare- well, “* Manty OF Merepira Caster.” ‘*Oh Kate! the very means we took to kee them apart has brought them together,” cri Lady Grace. ‘Yes, it was a fatal mistake to sent Kenton Cavanaugh on board that vessel, and now it is too late to remedy it, for see, the cruiser flies like the wind, and is already a league away,” and burying her face in her hands she continued: ‘* Grace, I have sent him to his death; but be- hold! from whence comes that bright light?” There was now a bright, red glare filling the rooms, and in alarm the maidens looked around them, and discovering that it came from the windows facing up the sea-shore, ran there, to | start back with cries of horror upon their lips. | _ What they beheld was the cot of Dermot the fisherman in flames, and before the humble dwelling a fierce struggle going on, for several rough-looking men were Seating to the earth the gray-haired defender of his little home. ‘*Oh God! this is terrible, for they have killed | him!” cried Lady Grace, ‘Yes, they have killed him, and they fly for ae et but they must not escape—help! he ringing voice of Kate Belmont brought the earl and half a dozen servants rushing to the room, and behcliding what had meppeaes, they all started off in pursuit of those who bad left the old fisherman dead before the door of his burning eabin. CHAPTER X. SAVED BY A FOE. WueEN Kenton Cavanaugh went on board King William’s cruiser, it was bis determina- tion to do his duty in all things, and so act as to soon bring the eye of his commander upon him. A phono sailor, ever smce he was a boy of eight, he felt no fear for the result, though it would be his first deep sea service, and he stood leaning over the forward bulwarks, gazing upon Castle Cor, and straining his eyes to catch sight of the one who was all the world to him now, even though his love was re. “The boat is coming, Mr. Lacey: have all ready to make sail and get out of this, for we deck, who had given the order turned to retrace his way to the quarter-deck, when his eyes fell Me eg the splendid form and fine face of the “Well, my mee a er have shipped, I see.” “ Yes, sir,” and Kenton saluted politely. AS ong dwell on this coast I believe?” “Then you should know these waters well?’ “As I do my cabin home, sir.” “Then come aft and take the wheel, for we have no pilot to run us out though we came in by day without one,” Kenton silently obeyed, and, as he took his lace at the wheel the boat from the shore uched the side, and the first man that stepped on deck was Lord Manly of Meredith Castle. It was a source of regret to the young sailor to behold his foe, now in full uniform as a junior officer, come on the very vessel on which he had shipped as a foremast hand, for he felt how thoroughly he would be in his power; but his brave heart did not quail, for if he gave him no chance to find fault, he would not dare to rsecute him. y ‘*T knew he was in the navy, but I had no idea that he was connected with this vessel; could Lady Kate have known it, when she—no, no, I will not wrong her with the thought: but let come what may, my lord of Meredith*will not find me a coward,” and he stepped to the wheel, as the order came: ‘* All hands to make sail!” The vessel was soon under canvas, the anchor up, and with Kenton Cavanaugh at the helm, when Lord Manly came on deck, and rape ed his commander who stood near the pilot. The eyes of the two young men met, and car- rying out bis design to adhere strictly to duty, Kenton saluted; but the young lord took no ne a eu haw tr ; oe, 1 see you have a i lad from tga = Bah your wheel.” = — - ett, * a * broke the seal ef the letter, while Lady Grace | have no time to lose,” and the officer of the. Captain Kyd, the King’ of the Black Flag. 7 — ‘““Yes, and he is a bright fellow, and I am glad he has shipped with us.” A triumphant light came into the eyes of the young noble, and he said in tones that could ill conceal his joy: ‘** He has then shipped for the cruise?’ ‘Yes; do you know aught of him, my lord?” ‘*He will bear watching, Captain Defoe, though he is a thorough sailor, I must admit.” ** Yes, he handles this vessel as he would a innace, and I like his looks, and regret that fe is not all that I could wish; but you should know,” and Captain Defoe walked over toward Kenton Cavanaugh and stood admiring the easy way in which he managed the cruiser. “Pardon me, sir, but we are going to have a bad night of it,” said the a helmsman, who had been glancing searchingly around the horizon. ‘Indeed! you must be a good reader of signs, my man, to see aught but fair weather promis ing now.” ““Do you feel a dampness on your face, sir, when you turn it toward the wind?” “T do, in faith.” ‘Well, sir, that is a sure sign of a comin storm in this latitude, and a severe one, for it is the spray blown far in advance—see, sir, look at that dark line rising above the horizon. **T see it, and feel you are right, and shall take the necessary precautions,” and giving his orders to have all snug aboard to meet a gale, caused the crew and officers to think their captain had suddenly become most timid. ut rapidly now over the heavens skurried the storm-clouds, flinging huge black shadows over the sea, and shutting out the light of the moon, while a deep, moaning sound was heard, like the rumbling of far-off wheels. ‘Lord Manly, I am inclined to like my new man more and more, for he predic this storm, when I should have retired to rest, willing to wager a month’s pay on fair weather for hls ht hours.” “‘ As I said, Captain Defoe, he is a good sea- man,” said Lord Manly, significantly; but the - captain was now all devotion to his ship, as the rumbling sound grew louder and louder, and the sails flapped now and then. ‘She is not making two knots, and it will be dead calm in a few moments— Take in the lower studd’n’sails, Lord Manly, and stand to hand down all the light canvas, for we have it blowing great guns soon.” The orders were quickly obeyed, Lord Manly proving himself a good r, end then the calm came and the cruiser lay motionless upon the sea, with only her topsails, spanker and jib. And now, on came the storm, with a roar and fury that meant death and destruction to the brave ship and men not red to meet it. “Secure the guns with lashings, Lord Man- ly, for we are going to have a fierce blow!” sg Ay, ay, sir,” and the young nobleman issued his orders promptly; and nimbly the men sprung to obey, for one and all knew their danger now, Calmly at the wheel stood Kenton Cava- naugh, seemingly indifferent to the comi storm, but ready for instant duty when - ed, and having already discovered that he knew well what he was about, the captain approached and said: ‘* Well, my lad, you predicted right; we are = ave a blow, and a biting one too.” ‘Yes, sir; and though the topsails are reefed close, you'll find they won’t stand, or will lay us over on beam-ends when the gale strikes, for I never saw it threaten worse than it does.” ‘“Then I shall make an Eolian harp of the craft; stand by the topsail halyards! Lower away! Strip er naked, for she won’t need even a lady’s kerchief in this blow,” cried the captain in ringing tones, and then he added: ‘Two steady men come here to the wheel, and mind you,” be continued, as they approached, Sard ps this lad directs, for he knows what is The men made no reply, for they had, with the remainder of the crew, come to the con- clusion that the fisher lad was no fresh-water sailor. ot a breath of air yet moved the sea, and the moaning sound grew louder and louder, and afar off was seen along white line, the glare of the wall of water ranking down upon the de- voted vessel. * Es All now stood in a death-like silence, the ship lying bows on to meet it, and yet as quiet asa miniature boat in a duck-pond, th the sea was torn into only a mile away. “Down on the deck all!” suddenly shouted the captain, and the next minute the bows sprung into the air as it were, and the wind and waves, with a terrific roar, burst like a deluge upon the stanch cruiser. : And then, amid. the shrieking winds, was heard the despairing cry of those who were torn from their holds upon the rigging and guns, and swept away upon the sea to die. All who had been standing when the shock came, were thrown down, and for a moment it cee —— — was 1 eces, for the cracking ‘ieking — of the winda, s spars e shi and the heavy wash of the *» grivenin ae
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ee Saptals Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. — Lashed in the maim rigging Captain Defoe issued his orders, to have them hurled away upon the tempest, and the vessel was driving along at a frightful velocity, having been twirled around like a feather. Glancing aloft the captain saw that his main top-gallant-mast was gone, and that the fore- top-mast was tottering, and an effort must be made to save it. ‘** Ho there, forward!” ‘* Ay, ay, sir!” shouted the crew in chorus. ‘“‘T want a bold lad to go aloft with a rope and fish that fore-top-mast,” shouted the captain in stentorian tones. But not a man moved, although every eye glanced upward and saw that to save the stick, prompt action was needed. “Up, lads, some of you, or she’ll come down like an arrow and go through our decks; who wants a year’s pay for the act?” Half a dozen men sprung at this offer, and a more furious blast coming at the instant swept three of them away upon tho seething waves. ‘*By Heaven!” it still holds, but it won’t do 80 long; what officer wants hs sega for this work?” called out Captain Defoe, seeing that the crew would not move again. Lord Manly at once sprung forward, and was creeping toward the rigging, when a huge wave boarded the vessel, and sty og! aft with terri- fic force, dragged him from his hold on a gun- lashing, and bore him, with several others, rap- idly astern. n vain did he clutch at the ratlines, and all else that presented an obstacle to cling to; the wave was irresistible, and swept mercilessly on, , ‘Hold hard all! now men I'll risk it!” It was Kenton Cavanaugh that spoke, and he addressed his two comrades at the wheel, while, with a stout rope around his waist he sprung to leeward, and as Lord Manly was being hurled over the bulwark, helpless and despairing, he threw his arms tightly around him. Then came a fearful jerk, as the rope tight- ened, but it held firmly, and grasping it, the _ two young men dragged themselves back to the quarter-deck in safety, while a wild cheer went 2p from the crew who had seen the daring act of enton Cavanaugh. ‘Kenton, you have—” began Lord Manly, earnestly, but the youth interrupted with: “ Ay, ay, sir; I must save that topmast now, | for it won’t last long,” and he sprung into the waist, while Captain Defoe shouted: ‘You have won an epaulét, my lad, by that act, but why have you left the wheel?” “To save the spar, sir,” shouted Kenton, above the storm. ‘* Bravo! if man can do it, you will,” cried the captain, and, with a coil of lashing upon his arm, the youth sprung into the weather rig- | ging. very eye was upon him, as slowly, and with great difficulty he ascended the ratlines, for the ming of the gale against him was fearful, ub step by step he went up until he gained the top, and ascending to the wounded spar, he ceeded, with the utmost coolness and intrepidity to secure the mast, so that should it pitch loose it would not come down and drive through the ic. As calmly as though in a calm, he worked, every eye watching bim anxiously, for the ship was pitching and rolling terribly, and they feared to see him hurled to the deck, but at last his task was completed, and ‘he seized a stay and descended to the deck, amid the wild cheers of the crew. ‘“Gallantly done, my lad; the epaulet you won for saving Lord nly shall have a com- panion on the other shoulder:* you are a brave rae and will be un bonor to any quarter- deck,” cried Captain Defoe, and, at his words a ud smile lighted up Kenton Cavanaugh’s ace; but he said quietly: “She’ll bear her jib and spanker close-reefed; sir, and then we can steady her with the wheel.’ “ You are right,” and Captain Defoe gave the necessary orders to set the sail, as the gale had blown its rudest blasts, and Kenton Cavanaugh crept aft and resumed his place at the wheel. “Cavanaugh, forgive and forget the day at Castle Cor,” and Lord Manly extended bis hand, which the youth grasped, while he answered: ““Willingly, my lord Mereditif.” “T owe you my life, Cavanaugh, and it isa debt I will not forget.” “Do not speak of it, my lord; I would have done as much as that for any of the poor lads that have gone, had they been swept off, as you were, . ‘“‘T shall not forget you, Cavanaugh,” and Lord Manly turned away; but had Kenton Cav- anaugh seen the look upon his face, he would have felt that in saving the life of the young no- ble, he had but increased his hatred for him, CHAPTER XI. THE STRANGE SAIL. Harpy had Kenton Cavanaugh returned to the wheel, when Captain Defoe came aft, and | Vessel was commanded _said pleasantly: : was the custom in olden times for one epaulet oo datote 8 junior officer.—Tax Aurior, ~S w . > a Pr ee 5 Zt RS = ae . A Ds | vessel drove along so furiously, that Captain | little astern of the cruiser an | her three huge topsails were set, and she was _ | twenty years before skill of the ‘You'll get your commission when we reach ort, my lad; but, as Iam short of officers, one ing ill below, I wish you to take his place.” “I thank you, sir; I will do my duty as best I | can; but I forgot to say that there is a vessel near.” ‘* Ha! where is she?” “T saw her when I was aloft; she was to wind- ward, and scudding under bare poles.” “We must keep an eye on her, for we are in a neighborhood where pirates are frequent; Pll muster the crew and see how many are missing, and then get the ship under what sail she will bear, so that, if necessary, we can lay her.to.” Captain Defoe then had the crew mustered, and found that a midshipman and nine seamen had been lost, ‘A dear night for us; poor lads, may they get snug berths aboard some heavenly cruiser,” said the captain sadly. The increased canvas was soon set, and the Defoe determined to lay her to, a feat that was skillfully accomplished by Kenton Cavanaugh, who sprung to the wheel to execute the ma- neuver, As the gale bad now blown itself out, leaving only a strong and steady breeze, the pumps were tried and the crew set to work to repair damages. Tn an hour’s time all was shipshape once more, the clouds were drifting rapidly away to lee- ward, the waves were running down, and the moon broke out with renewed brilliancy and cast a silver radiance upon the sea, ‘* Sail, ho!” The cry came in the clarion tones of Kenton Cavanaugh, and from the fore-rigging. ‘““Whereaway, sir?” shouted Captain Defoe. ‘‘Off the weather quarter, sir; just in the moon’s wake, and walking this way with a nimble foot.” “Ay, ay! Isee her, and she isa three-master and a frigatoon; no honest eraft carries a rig like that in these waters. Stand by, all, to get under weigh!” The cruiser swung round on her course, and at once all was busy preparation on board; the beds around the guns were filled with shot, mus- kets and cutlasses were put in the stands and sockets about the masts, and clearing for action was done with a will, after which the crew went silently to the guns, ‘* Mr. Cavanaugh, I give you command of the Jee battery. Men, obey this young gentleman as | though the epaulets were on his shoulders, for he shall wear them,” called out the captain, and having witnessed the contempt for danger and outh, the men recognized him as their natural superior, and at-once gave him a cheer, for there is nothing a sailor admires more than courage. The strange sail was now distinctly visible, a about half a dooaay distant, and sailing a parallel course with er. She was a three-masted lugger, or frigatoon, such as were often seen in the Mediterianean; pan ging along at a pace that proved her a fast sailer. That she was armed and heavily manned there could be no doubt, and that she was a pi- rate all felt assured, All on board the cruiser now intently regarded the stranger, which altered her course a little and shook out her reefs, which caused her to sail evenly with the British vessel and so as to head her off within an hour, should both hold as they were then heading. ‘“He’s a bold one, for he-must see that we are no merchant craft; to convince him, Lord Man- ly, send a shot across his bow,” cried Captain Defoe. The gun burst forth with a heavy roar, and a shot sent a shower of spray upon his forecastle; but the stranger paid no attention to it, but held on his course. ‘* His idea is to carry us by boarding, for those fellows are devils at close quarters. ll ready, forward, to repel boarders!” said the captain. As the stranger drew nearer it was seen that she was of about three hundred tons, with sharp bows and broad , and came along swiftly with the wind on her starboard quarter, and causing her lugger’s sails to stand out as stiff as boards, Forward, and in the waist, a dense mass of heads were visible, and the moonlight flashed upon steel, while her open ports revealed a broadside of seven guns. Nearer and nearer came the two vessels, and then Captain Defoe said: ‘1 d&now that fellow well: we have met before: men ca]l him Hurtel of the Red Hand: but what is he doing in these waters?” ; Lord Manly started at the name, for long had | he known of the 1 Spapbeten disappearance of Sir Hurtel of Castle Crag, and heard the rumors that he had become an outlaw upon the sea. Could then, he thought, that the stran by the brother of the Earl of Belmont? ; And Kenton Cavanaugh too heard the words of Captain Defoe, and he too remembered how Sir Hurtel had left his — home to go to ruin, and the discovery of the bodies of old Cormac and Elpsey by a traveler. “Can the commander of yonder vessel be the uncle of Lady Kate?” was bis thought. “I see the chief now,” continued Captain Defoe, glancing through his glass. ‘‘Heis the same; a tall, gray-bearded man, with broad. shoulders, and dressed like a Turk; see, Mr. Cavanaugh, he is standing by the helmsman.” Kenton took the glass and turned it upon the pirate chief, and at once, even at that distance, ; was he struck with the resemblance to the Earl of Belmont, for the moon shining directly in his face, revealed every feature distinctly. ‘Will you allow me to look, please?” asked Lord Manly, as Kenton silently returned the j glass to his captain, 74 Leveling it, he fairly started, for in the great: } dining-hall of Castle Cor hung a full length por~ trait of Sir Hurtel, and, excepting that the aay chief seemed much older, for he had gray air and moustachios, there was a striking simi- larity, for the face wore the same look of sad- ness in the eyes and sternness on the mouth. “Captain Defoe, when I wasa very little boy, Sir Hurtel, the brother of the Earl of Belmont lived in the ruined castle, under the shadow o which you anchored yesterday, and he led a. hermit life. * One day a eee entered the castle, and. found its, servants slain, its master gone, and not a soul in it, and strange stories were told of the old place and the murder committed there, while suspicions turned both upon Sir Hurtel, and a band of Gipsy sailors who camped near ¥ on the coast, but who suddenly disappeared 4 about the time with the lord of Castle Crag:. now yonder chief is Sir Hurtel, the brother of Belmont’s earl.” “It may be, Lord Manly, for I bave also z heard rumors of the ear!’s brother having turn- ed pirate; but be he whom he may, he has: twice beaten me cff before, and bas the courage ; of a tiger; once, in the Grecian Archipelago, I 3 boarded bim, on that same Jugger, an he- sp drove us back to our deeks with heavy loss; but: I would give muck to capture bim to-night, even if he were a brother of Kixg Billy!” Silently the dark hull of the pirate drew nearer and nearer, until it was evident that the- chief intended to board the cruiser, now that the sea had gone down, and the wind was light. “See, the old chief is giving orders to prepare for boarding; a shot; Lord Manly, into that dense mass forward, will shake them up con- siderably.” The shot was fired, and a crashing of timbers. 4 followed, with curses and the groans of wound- ed men, and in a dozen different tongues, which at once betrayed the character of the vessel, even if Captain Defoe had not before recognized. er. ‘Now stand by for a broadside!” shouted the captain. ‘ All ready, sir!” ‘« Starboard your helm!” “Starboard ’tis, sir!” ar “Steady! let him have it—fire!” The shock was a terrible one, and it spread‘ death and confusion on board the lugger; but, cool and commanding stood the pirate chief, -_ all on board distinctly heard his ringing orders: ‘Boarders ahoy! we want that craft, men, so don’t hurt her with iron: now lay her along- side! boarders all!” The pirate, which had been Sosetaine to- 4 strike the cruiser well forward, suddenly luffed,. - paver were thrown, and the two vessels ~~ roadside to broadside, while over their high. bulwarks came the buccaneers in dark swarms,. their chief at their head. e323 ‘* Boarders repel boarders!” shouted Captain Defoe, and instantly the fight became fierce and bloody; the cutlasses clashoe-pavegely. pis- tols rattled incessantly, men cursed, others ut-. tered their death-eries, stern orders were given by the officers, the vessels rolled fearfully, strik-. ths ing against each other with shocks that threat- eg ened to crush in their sides, the chains creaked, : = and the dense smoke and flashes of firearms, ‘ made it seem like a carnival of fiends,rather than. a combat between human beings. Steadily, though their numbers were fewer than the crew of the crtiser, the pirates drove: the king’s men back, pushing them hard upon. the quarter-deck. : : ‘Now we have them, and their trim vessel is. ours; at them, you dogs!” shouted their chief, and he sprung forward, sheathing his sword in the heart of an officer who opposed him, and gaining the quarterdeck. : ot “Kill him, or all is lost!” shouted Captain: Defoe, fighting lke a lion on the starboard side, Instantly_a tall form confronted the chief and two splendid specimens of physical man-- hood met, the one a man whose rame wes a ; terror, and who had won forhimself thetitleof 8 Hurtel of the Red Hand; the other, a-mere” *— youth in years, but a man in strength and + lien In courage. Lae ** Now I will see how good a swordsr father has tangte me to his muttered
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a ane Pais Saks Lee - captain. : ising, sought: tel of the Red Hand, and he aimed a savage dDlow to clear the youth from his path. But coolly it was ied, and straightening ap, the chief put himself on his guard, for he had met a strength that matched his arm, great as it was, and a skill he had not expected. ‘‘Now at ye, young sir, and remember that you face Hurtel of the Red Hand.” ‘I care not if you are the devil,” was the cool retort, and the two blades met savagely, twirled aand twisted like fiery serpents, and then one was struck aside, and the other was sheathed in ‘a human breast. CHAPTER XI. — HURTEL OF THE RED HAND, Tuer human heart which one blade had found was that of the famous Hurtel of the Red Hand, and the arm that drove it was Kenton Cava- a cr addened with A ae the chief, though he had received his death-wound, determined to die hard, and shortening his own sword into a dag- ger, he sprung upon Kenton, who had —, drawn his own weapon from the body of his 402, and stepped back, expecting him to fall. But the sudden blow with the shortened blade was skillfully parried, and once more the keen sword of the youth buried itself in the pirate’s road breast. But still the powerful man, tenacious of life, frenzied by pain, and maddened with revenge, sprung forward with his blade still shortened. And again Kenton Cavanaugh coolly met him, parried the blow, and then, by a most skillful movement, brought his sword down & on the good right arm of the chief, cleaving it to the bene. The blade fell from the stricken hand to the deck, and like a statue the chief stood gazing — the one who had given bim his death- dlow, and who met bis gaze unflinchingly, while all around these two rested on their arms, watched and waited. **Boy, you have killed Hurtel of the Red Hand.” In hoarse, deep tones the words came from tthe lips of the pirate chief, and then he fell his ‘ull length upon the deck, while a wild cry broke from his crew, and in alarm they fled to their vessel, some of them falling into the sea. ‘ Quickly the pols ere cast ew and the eavy sweeps 0 e lu set going, while Captain Defoe cried: a =) * ‘Back to your guns, men, and sink the ac- cursed craft!” With wild hurrahs the crew of the cruiser aprase to their guns once more, and shot after shot was poured upon the flying vessel; hut the pirates, oow despairing of capturing t: e king’s craft, turned their own broadsides upon ber, and it became a running and hot fight, until one shot from the lugger cut away the foremast of his pursuing foe, and the chase ended, the b sails of the buccaneer, extending from deck to deck, rapidly sending her out of harm’s way from the superior metal of the gallant British ‘Well, we’ve Jost the lugger, but killed her captain, thanks to you, my brave Cavanaugh, for, if you had not cut him down he'd have car- ried us, that’s certain: if you keep on as you have begun to-night, you'll be our ad xs fore I am a post-captain,” and turning to Lord Meniy he continued in a low tone: “The boy does need watching, my lord, and his example is worth following; but now to repair damages and head for port.” he cruiser was by no means in an enviable condition, for her decks had been torn by shot, her bualwarks and ng were shattered, the foremast hung a ° over the side, cut off fifteen feet above the deck, and dead and wounded lay around, more than a score in number, while many a brave fellow, able to move about, was nursing a wound, Willingly the men set to work, and soon order came once more out of chaos, and Kenton Cavanaugh, tiger 5 & moment’s rest, as the skies grew rosy with the rising elt by the side of the pirate chief, whom he placed near the wheel. “T once saw in Castle Cor, when the earl sent for me-one day, the portrait of Sir Hurtel, and the servants said the Countess Lenore was wont to look at it each morning and evening, ‘when no one was watching her; this man has the same splendid form and face, only it is older, sterner, colder than was Sir Hurtel’s; yet 1 believe this is the earl’s brother, but I hope he and Lady Kate may never know that he was really a pirate.” So muttered Kenton Sago, as he knelt — the dead chief, and sadly gazed upon im. Raising the lifeless hand, he drew from it the blood-stained gauntlet, and his eyes fell upon a large pold ring, worn upon the small finger. “Ah, bere is proof; it is the shield of Sir Hurtel, with the crest of his house cut into the stone,” and it from the finger, he read, ‘ Hurtel of Castle Crag.” - Seas dire me Se: et an : eC ereerrrre- erOOO eee eee eee goes straig | Captain Kyd, the King of the Bla ‘*Captain, Hurtel of the Red Hand is the brother of the Earl of Belmont; see, here is his ring, and I would ask, for the sake of his name, that he be buried with the service of the church.” ‘““A strange request to make for a pirate Cavanaugh, for, noble or king, a man as wicked. as he was could never be prayed out of per- dition by the prayers of all the priests in Chris- tendom; but keep the ring and give it to the earl yourself, and as I can refuse you nothing, =— Sir Hurtel with a _— “Thank you, Captain oe.” ‘* But who is to do the praying, Cavanaugh, for I confess Iam not upin such things, and 1 — my prayers would never reach the Great dmiral aloft, and we have no one on board who knows about such things.” “T will recite the service, sir, for I know it by heart.” ‘*Do so, then, and bring our dead, too, within the bowlines; but give the poor lads the benefit first, so they’ll get a start of the bloody pirate, and we'll sink them to windward, and drop the old fellow over to leeward, and that will give them another advantage over the red-handed wretch.” Kenton smiled at the words of his captain and slipping the ring upon his own finger, wen torwand — gave orders for the buri The dead chief was sewn up in canvas, a heavy shot attached to his feet, end the body laid on the lee side of the deck, while the dead men of his crew were thrown unceremoniously into the ocean. — Then the dead officer and crew of the cruiser were prepared for their watery grave in like manner as was Hurtel of the Red Hand, and all hands were summoned to attend burial. With caps off, and bowed heads they stood, while Kenton Cavanaugh, ina clear, earnest tone, recited the burial service of the church of England, and one by one the bodies were yt into the sea, diving rapidly down into the depths below, thereto remain forever. At last it came the turn of the pirate chief, and four seamen raised him unfeelingly, an were about to hurl him headfirst over the bul- warks, when there came the ringing order: ** Hold!” The men turned in surprise, ahd all eyes were fixed upon Kenton Cavanaugh. ‘*Men, that is the dead body of a human being, and be he what he might in life, in death he is sacred.” The stern rebuke was rage ace § felt, and Hurtel of the Red Hand, cnce the lonely exile of Castle Crag, sunk quietly into the waves, forever from the view of human goze, but his crimes to live in romance and story until time shall have an end. . Ps few moments of silence followed, aad ere e crew a j mast was skill : rigged, wail ‘pet, tod: “she cruieer Readed ty “Cavanaugh, I intend to put into port to re- pair, and I will send you on with the written re- port of my cruise to the Lord of the Admiralty, and youcan get your commission as second lieutenant at the same time, for no one deserves it more, and then you can join me at Queens- x days from this.” Kenton Cavanaugh’s face flushed with pride, for his dreams of amltition and fame were being rapidly realized, and he said earnestly: “I thank you, Captain Defoe: I ¢id but my duty, and am glad of your aap but, sir, if you remember last night, when we sailed, we saw a fire on theshore, and I told you that it was my own home?” “ Yes.” . “Well, sir, my father dwelt there alone, and I am _ most anxious regarding his safety, and would request that I can visit my home ere I re- turn.” ne I gave you thirty days, thinking mdon.” “No, sir, my father and myself have sailed there several times; I would rather spend that ins age a eae you please, Cavanaugh; the teat will be ready as soon as we Teach port, and you can start at once; and, by the way, I will tell Lord Manly, as he may wish to bends some word home, for you go near Castle Meredith, I believe?” ‘* Within three leagues, sir,” But Lord Manly said he would not trouble Kenton poh csar, pe as he was just going to area t ero ter igs tte! as soon as they c an wo i Castle Meredith arrive sooner at e next the cruiser reached her haven and, armed with his official dispatches Kenton Cavanaugh went ashore, accompanied by Lord Manly, who was to return with the boat. At the mail dispatch office the two young . men separated, Lord Manly grasping the of Kenton warmly, and wishing Sy! ree cess; but as he walked alone back to the land- ing where the bont awaited him, he muttered in a triumphant tone: : ‘* Instead of a smile from Lady Kate of Castle Cor, my proud fisher you will find Death to welcome oe I mis not, and my letter ly: be would like a week or two to see the sightsin | every suc- CHAPTER XIII. GLAD TIDINGS AND SAD TIDINGS. WHEN the Earl of Belmont and his servante reached the beach, they found there the body of Dermot Cavanaugh, the old fisherman, with several ghastly wounds in his breast to show what had killed him. The humble, though comfortable home tad burned to ashes, and the assassins and incendia- ries bad fled; hot pursuit instantly commen-ed, yet witkout avail, for wko they were, or from whence they had come, no one knew, and a potter? Se ed over the scene, as it did ove Castle th. Pained deeply at what had papgenes, Luuy Kate and Lady Grace both urged the earl todo all in his power to find the murderers, and he spared no expense to do so; but days went by and not the slightest clew to the guilty ones could be found. One afternoon, some two weeks after the death of old Dermot, Lady Kate and ber cousin went cut for a ride on horseback, accompanied ae by a groom. favorite place for them to visit was an old chapel, rapidly crumbling to ruin from _ a grand view of the ocean and inland was visible. Reaching a halting-place they left their horses with the servant, and wandered on foot to the spot where they loved to sit and view the scene to seaw ard and landward. Not far away ran the high road, and far im the distance, rising over the crest of the hill, they saw a Lorseman coming leisurely along. Presently, he drew near the ruined oa and halting, gaz d upon the scene with evident admiration. His face was turned away from the two maid- ens, yet they saw that he was atiired in uniform wore a cloak bargirg from his shoulders, and sat his steed like a thorcugh hors« man, And as tbey Icoked, from their position a bundred yards away, they saw two men on foot cautiously approach the rider, who, uncon- scicus of their presence, still gazed at the beauti- ful scene stretched cut for miles around him. Cautiously, noiselessly they approeched, one of thim carrying a musket; and then, even the two maidens knew that some cr'me wes intend- ed, ard utterly fearless, Lady Kate called out loudly, to warn the horseman of danger. Her clear voice reached his ears, and be turn- ed, just as the man with the gun leveled and The report, a puff of smoke, a startled neigh, ond the animal ridden by the stranger fell in bis tracks, while the two men rushed upcn the fallen rider. But, though taken wholly by surprise he was rot unnerved, and in an instant was upon his feet, his sword drawn. 2 To strike down the nearest man witha sweep- ing blow of his blace, and spring u the sec- ond was en instant’s work, while with the musket he wrenched from bis band, he felled him to the earth, bis skul] crackir g under tle fearful blow. ‘Well, that was a narrow escape, and it causes me to foot it the rest of the way, for my poor horse is Gead; but whose warning cry was that, and certainly in a wcman’s voice,” and the man Jooked around him; but seeing no one in sight, continued, while he bent over the man who had fired upon bim: “These fellows don’t look like foctpads; but what else than robbery can ha een their mo- tive in attacking me—oh, I know this one now} be was once a servant at Meredith Castle, and he is the very one whose neme I saw on the let- ter which Lord Manly posted two weeks ago,” Thrusting his hand into the pocket of the dead pe he withdrew it quickly, saying in a low pe: ‘* And here is the very letter.” The seal was broken, yet bore the Meredit& crest, and opening it, the face of Kenton Cav ana e deadly pale as he read haif- aloud: “Dennis Day: ; “On sailing from the bay I saw by the flames os old Dermot’s cot that your work was well done; but the one to whose life you were to put an end, was cv. the cruiser, having unfortunately shipped that noon, ‘‘But that one returns home in a few and then the work must be Sparongnle sae: he wi Te turn by the northern highway, leading ‘Caste instead of by Cor, and on horseback, 8. The ruined chapel will be a good place to lie m . wait for and when I learn that you have finish- ed him, I will send you the one hun ' sides what I promised you. : “Be discreet, comeencoue,, and ie. wine out oi your head and all w Sada dy toay~s he| would not give a farthing for your life, or that your accomplice. x * Dest this letter as soon as read, an® ~<a you have e the work, come to me.” There was no xp tate to the letter, but whe need was there for any? The crest told ths writer’s name, if the letter had not done so. “ Well, Dennis Daly, you made ths miss, my noble lord warned you against, and her you or your accompli hing now; but who would bslieve max ld be : as I have found out Hanly-of Becedith to bez eli, ang'of sastome = eet ~ 5 » 80 bd ice ere worth @&
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et 10 ing will yet ‘ome between him and me, for I ewe him Jevus that must be paid; now I will hasten on, and see if my poor old father es- ea from these devils’ hands— Ha!” he exclamation was caused by secing before | him Kate Belmont and Lady Grace, and there | was surprise, mingled with anxiety, upon the face of each, when they saw who it was that stood before them. “Cavanaugh! is it you indeed?” ‘* Yes, Lady Kate, it is your humble servant, Kenton Cavanaugh,” and he doffed his gold- braided naval oo ‘‘T feared evil had befallen you, when you sailed in the same vessel, on which, we after- ward discovered, Lord Manly went as an officer ; thank God you returned in safety.” “Tt nearly happened otherwise, Lady Kate,” and the young man pointed to the dead bodies of his intended assassins. “So we saw; but ag coolness and courage saved you; it was I that called to you, when the men were creeping upon you.” “Then os have returned the debt you owe me, for that cry startled the men, and saved my life; but, lady, as I am anxious indeed, re- apising my old father, having seen our cot on as we went seaward, will you pardon me if Task you if you have seen him of late?” Kate Belmont’s eyes filled with tears, and her voice trembled, as she answered: “Cavanaugh, your father is dead.” ‘*Dead! my poor old father dead?” and the proud head was bowed in grief. : “Yes,” spoke Lady Grace, ‘‘and by the same hands, I now feel convinced, that attempted your life a moment ago. Cavanaugh, these men at our feet had a master over them, to cause them to take the life of your father and attempt your own.” ; “True, lady; with you I believe such to be the case; but I knew not that I had enemies; at more than one.” ‘* And beware of that one,” said Lady Grace earnestly, while Kate Belmont put forth her han feelingly remarking: ‘“You have my deepest sympathy in your great sorrow.” ‘And mine, Cavanaugh! but how is it we find you back so soon, and wearing the uniform of a Naval Lieutenant?” asked Grace, His eyes flashed proudly, and momentarily forgetting his grief, he answered: “Tt is arank I won, Lady Grace, for services A rendered the night T left ere; I hold the com- mission of a Second Lieutenant, given me by the Lord of the Admiralty five days ago.” _ Both maidens did not attempt to hide the sur- prise and pleasure this information gave them and, recognizing in a Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, a very different person from Kenton Cavanaugh the fisherman, they congratulated _ him warmly upon his success, and calling her ‘oom, y Kate bade him surrender his horse Lieutenant Cavanaugh, and remain at the ruin with the two d bodies, until she sent assistance from Castle Cor. The Irish groom made a wry face, for though he liked a wake, he did not relish being alone with the dead; but he silently bone » and ander the escort of the young officer, the maidens returned homeward, nton Cava- naugh giving a description of his short cruise, the storm, the battle, and his trip to London, and yet speaking most modestly of the services he bad renderéd the vessel, and Lord Manly, and sayin ing about who the Pirate Chief had been discovered to be. Arriving at Castle Cor the earl was made ac- quainted with all that had happened, and al- ee liking the young fisherman, he warml welcomed him to the hospitalities of bis roof, for the lieutenant bore to him official dispatches trom London, and Captain Defoe’s printed description of the cruise. It was a severe blow to the Earl of Belmont when he learned from Kenton Cavanaugh, that hurtel of the Red Hand was his own brother of Castle Crag; but when he saw the ring, and heard all, he said, sadly: > = ero _ no re of it; but Cavanagh, ne Copan efoe says, at your requ e made not the shameful iGdinge known. keep it still _ locked within your bosom for my ; and his ring, wear, as a gift from jne, for I wish it not; por Hurtel, my brother, what a fate has veen thine,” + A few moments the earl seemed deeply moved by grief; but then he said pessentiy: ‘Lieutenant Cavanaugh, you have begun nobly! you have a bright future before you, and can, with your sword, carve out a name that will cause men to forget that you are not of noble birth; in this castle #5 are my honored for I owe it to you that my daughter is t Sng 'g and calling a servant, e earl — show the officer to the rooms assigned and which were those given always to the da: Je wost honored guest. * higher in her estimation, was Lady Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. - the splendid portrait hung on the wall before er It was the dark face, with the sad eyes and stern mouth of Hurtel of Castle Crag, and as he had been more than twenty years before when peer her love, a love she had never lost for Down into her beautiful, grief-moved face he seemed to look, and with a bitter cry she said in piteous tones: ‘* Ah, Hurtel! Hurtel! through your eyes now on me, look at me from the spirit land, and let them shine in pity on me. 3 “Forgive me, Hurtel! and yet I ask more than you cau, you should, forgive, being man, and being mortal, for 1 it was who wrecked your life; I it was that made you an exile in that old castle, and sent you away to a life of crime, “Oh, my love! oh, Hurtel! if you could look into my heart now, you would pity and for- give; ay, you would see that though I have n a true wife to him, my heart has ever been true to you, and bitterly have I been punished for my crime in giving you up. “And thou art dead, my noble, my splendid Hurtel! dead, and my every hope gone look you once more in the face before F died: dead, and by the hand of that noble youth, whom 7 I cannot but hate, because he took your e. ‘But oh! what a fate has been thine—a pi- rate! and my false act sent you to your fearful death,” She sunk over until her head rested in her hands, and like a worshiper at a shrine, there she remained until the shadows of night erept into the room, and warned her that she must drive the grief in her face back to her bosom and smile on for the sake of her husband and children, though her aching heart should break. CHAPTER XIV. THE WITCH OF CASTLE DEATH. THE morning following the arrival of Kenton Cavanaugh, as the guest of the Earl of Belmont Lady Kate asked the young officer if she and Lady Grace might show him to the spot where they had had Dermot, the fisherman, buried. ‘I walked there last night, and also to the old cabin, Lady Kate; but gladly would I go again, and with such sympathetic company as geo and Lady Grace, to whom I owe much or the kindness shown my poor father’s re- mains.” That was then where the filial youth went, when she had seen him go forth from the castle late at night alone, and he was raised still Kate’s thoughts, as she called a servant to order the riding horses brought to the door, and went to robe herself in her habit and to call her cousin to join them. alf an hour after the three dashed away, and took the road leading to the grave of Der- mot Cavanaugh, and who had been buried be- neath a large oak that grew upon the cliff half- way between Castle Cor and Death Castle, as Sir Hurtel’s ruin was now universally known. Through the servants of Castle Cor, the news regarding Kenton Cavanaugh and his good for- tune had peyons and many an humble peasant, anager long the highway, or standing in the oor of his lowly cot, gave the young officer a cheer as he dashed by, while one, more bold than the rest, shouted after him: ‘Good luck forever to yer honor; and may you be afther marryin’ ther swate Lady Kate of Castle Cor.” Kate Belmont’s face turned crimson, and Grace glanced slyly at her, and then at Kenton; but he was, to all appearances, unconscious 0 the remark, though it sent the rich blood throbbing into his heart with hope, a hope as ambitious as Lucifer’s, and which grew and grew with each moment of his existence. Beneath the aged oak they found the grave of Dermot Cavanaugh; and, while the young officer bent in reverence above the lonely mound, the maidens sat in silence, glancing over the bay, the shore road far beneath them, the two rocky headlands, crowned with Castle Cor, bright and grand, and Castle Death gloomy and desolate, while beyond stretched he dark blue ocean in all its,grandeur. Again mounting his horse, Kenton Cavan- augh joined his fair companions, and then the Ry dy Grace suggested a ride to Castle ath, “Oh Grace! do you mean it?’ asked Kate. “‘Tndeed I do; we have such a gallant escort, I do not i= to go there.” as din all my life [ never entered the cas- tle, and T do not plied Kate. ‘Yes, I have several times been there; and jieve any one ever has,” re- you know Zebel the Witch lives there,” remark- ed Kenton. ‘Ah yes; [had forgotten that fearful crea- ture, who they say does dwell in the old ruin; tan! thing, though I dread her as the Evil One pity her, for sad indeed must have been her | lo to make her live away from her human eee te oa Writes and Focteabetelen: i CES be ae naege been eh + Ae ee ee A ee ee ee eee ee have heard of, that appeared here some years ago?’ asked Grace. “Yes, y Grace, she came from no one knows where, and roams about at will, making’ her home in Death Castle, and ple attribute to her wonderful deeds of wite craft; she cer- tainly is a strange woman, and, with Lady Kate, I pity her.” “But pity won’t let us see her, and I am de- termined to getb.a look at the old Sathaness, if I have to go alone.” * You shall not do that, Grace, for I have a curiosity to see Zebel the Witch, an also the old castle, and if the lieutenant does not: object, we will go.” “Tam wholly at your service,” answered the young officer, and they dashed away in the di- rection of the ruined castle. Reaching the shore road they wound alon until they drew near the ruins of what pry bee pe outer babar encircled er — on the land approach; ing throu y soon drew rein at the portal a4 tower. The iron door hung on one hinge, and around. the ruin was a_silence that was felt, and even Grace of Greyhurst felt a momentary regret. at heaved wanted to come. **{ will hitch our horses in the court and we will ascend to the top of the sea tower,” said Kenton Cavanaugh, and they rode silently on after him. The court was overgrown with rank weeds, and trees had sprung up between the paving stones, while the hoof-strokes on the rocks caused weird echoes to be heard, sending a chill to the hearts of the two maidens. Aiding the ladies to alight, Kenton Cavanaugh hitched the three horses, and led the way into ae grand corridor that ied to the castle cham- rs. Silently Kate and Grace followed, and all three seemed to feel an awe, as though in the presence of death. Reaching the end of the corridor they came to a terrace, that ran along one wing of the castle, and here they halted. Suddenly, the maidens stepped back with a startled cry. And no wonder they felt alarmed, for sud- denly appearing before them was a woman of strange aspect. Yes, a woman upon whom no eye could look and not feel a shudder in the beart, for there was that in her face that told its own tale of woe, of wretchedness and despair. Slightly above the medium hight, she poms a form that denoted strength and en- oe oo oe for except in the ae poms and ye e leant for port upon a long staff, one- 4 black, the ote Wilts, and euriondy earved with symbolical devices. A bright, scarlet cloak hung from her shoul- a = ¥ eters of Pres a ance an ort enough to display sm own feet, stookingless end shod. im aititals. =.” Around her waist was a chain of gold and silver links, and to one end hung a large red heart, and to the other a key of jet. A turban of various colors was upon her head, and adown her backy and reaching below the searlet cloak, were masses of hair as white as. snow. And yet her face was the of all, so- deeply was it marked with passion, defiance, ek: and an expression of utter mercilessness to friend or foe. Her teeth were faultless, in spite of her age, which it was hard to tell, and her eyes were as black as coal, and seemed to penetrate to one’s = heart. ith such a creature aes suddenly in their path, it was no wonder that Kate and Grace shrunk back with a startled cry, but Kenton Cavanaugh said aed ‘* Have no fear, it isonly Zebel.” ** Ay, it is mei § Zebel; but why did you not give me my full name, boy, and call me the Vitch,” she said ina cold, hard voice and with a scornful smile. ; “Why say that which needs must grate harshly in thy ear, good woman,” answered the young man. - “Good woman! Great God! boy, that name grates more harshly in my ears than curses would, for it is long, long years ago since I have heard it, and—once I deserved it.” » ' Her words impressed all three, and yet before Kenton could reply, she changed her manner, and shouted out: “What do you here in Castle Death, the do- main of Zebel the Witch?’ _ , “Curiosity to see the old ruin brought us here, and we thought, if we saw you, that you might be in a fortune-telling mood read for these noble ladies their destinies.” “You came not here from cuxiosity, Kenton Cavanaugh, as men call you, for I have seen ou here before often, when you knew not that saw you; and, as for reading the stars, or the hands of these fair ladies, to tell them of their _ future, they had best never know what Fate holds in store for them.” In < oo of their nerve, both Kate and Grace © trembled, and seeing it, Kenton said quickly: _“ Well, Zebel, here is a golden souvenir of our visit, and-we will roam thr the ruin nel then leave you to your solitude onee more.” | q
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He held forth his hand, and seizing the gold piece almost savagely she hurled it far out into the water, while she cried in angry tones: “Give me not thy gold, boy, for I want none of it; but would you learn thy destiny, and hast thou the courage to hear it, come bere by night, and come alone, and I will breathe into thy ear a tale that will chill even thy brave heart; wilt thou come?” Moved by the manner and words of the wo- man, he said firmly: ‘¢] will come; when shall it be?” ““To-night, one hour after sunset; [ will be at the watch tower, and await you!” “T will be there, woman.” **No, no, you must nof, you shall not,” cried ‘oth Kate and Grace together, and the witch ve a malicious laugh, while she said scornful- ss ou think even Kate of Castle Cor could make this boy break his word? If you do, you know him not as / do. “And strangely careful is the Lady of Bel- mont and the Lady of Greyhurst of him, now : that he wears the honored toggery of King Billy sl and is not, as he was a few weeks since, an hum- at ble fisher lad.” ae “Woman, you are insulting; Kate of Castle Ra Cor is not one to look down upon the meanest . nt,” said Lady Kate with spirit. “ Well said, my beauty, and forsooth it is the ‘truth, as all who know you can say; but I will not harm thy gallant, low-born friend, only tell ‘to him a tale that will be as honey in his ears, -and, sweet ladies, sometime when old Zebel walks afar, and the sunshine banishes weird specters, she will stop at nd old Castle Cor, and tell to thee the destiny thou two wouldst know.” (. “We will listen, be thy star-reading for us as good or bad,” said Kate, and she turned to Grace and Kenton me Nhe gee slowly jJowing, while the Witch called out in her cold, ‘hard voice: ‘*Remember thy promise, boy; this night, one hour after sunset, meet Zebel, the Witch, in Castle Death.” Ht “T will come,” and in ten minutes more the A three were gallopins back toward Castle Cor, all ss of them impressed by their visit to the old ruin, and in each heart a secret dread of evil to follow ‘it, and a wish that they had remained away. THE INSULT. . Ir was in vain that both Lady Kate and her cousin Grace urged Kenton Cavanaugh not to fe to the ruin as they rode back to Castle Cor; e was determined and would not yield even to the entreaties of the sweet Lady of Belmont. Arriving at the castle they foutid Lord Gerald thad returned home, he having been absent on a ‘boar hunt for several days, Lord Gerald had never been a favorite with | Kenton; but for his sister’s sake, and being the | guest of his father, the young officer determined to be marked in his politeness toward him; but not so with the young noble, who said insolent- ly as the three rode up: “Well, Kate, I see that you and Lady Grace hhave secured a new groom.” The face of Kenton Cavanaugh flushed crim- | ‘son at the insult, but, curbing his temper, he said, politely: : =e “] Sank thin Lord Gerald is not one to be- lieve that no manhood exists in one of humble vrigin. **T am one that does not believe in entertain- 4ng as a guest one who has been on a level with my father’s humblest servants,” was the haughty i ‘Brother! Lord Gerald, for shame! How ¥ dare you insult my escort, my friend!” cried Lady Kate, with intense scorn in voice and manner. ‘*Ha! ha! ha! my sister defending a fisher lad: I sup Lady Grace, you will take up the — in his defense next?” laughed the young noble. Tp ep pi lif or a a i ‘* Not against one who is so devoid of man- hood as yourself, Gerald Belmont,” was the stinging retort. ** What! this from you, sweet Grace?” he said, quickly changing bis manner. ‘Ay, and more, for I will no lon be a guest Linaath the roof where one I pea, my riend is insulted, and though I love your sweet _gister and lady mother, and respect your father. the noble earl, I abhor you so much, I shall witbin the hour depart for Greyburst Castle.” ‘Oh Grace! Grace, you are too severe,” cried ‘Kate earnestly, while the young sprig of nobili- ty, feeling that he had gone too far, dropped on his knee before the angry maiden, and cried eagerly: : Forgive me, Grace, and forget my words, ‘for, if you say 80, I will even ask pardon of the ‘fisher lad himself.” ‘‘ Lord Gerald, I ask no pardon from you, for “your very words prove it would not come from ‘your heart; but, as I am a bone of contention, I “will save all trouble, and instantly remove my- welf from Castle Cor. Lady Kate, to your no- kindly say that circumstances, over i no control, called me away, and to 'y- Grace, I bid farewell.” — for: | In vain was it that the two maidens strove to detain him, and even Lord Gerald bade him re- main, adding that he was his father’s guest, not his; he was firm, and turned away from the door, and was soon wending his way down the pathway toward the ashes of his humble home. * (trace, is that fellow to come between you and I?” asked the young noble, as Kenton Cav- qnauae disappeared from sight. es, ‘Remember, you are my promised wife.” “Were I your wife your conduct this diay should part us, Lord of Castle Cor.” ; “ But I will not«release you, my haughty ady. > Task it not of you; I sever all bonds my- self,’ ‘Grace, hear me, and do not bring sorrow to my heart,” he implored. “‘T have spoken and you have heard, Lord of Castle Cor; this night I leave for Greyhurst Castle, and there you shall never come.” - She turned away as she spoke, and weeping bitterly, Kate Belmont followed her, while, with a bitter curse, Lord Gerald walked away to the stables, sprung upon his horse, and rode away like the wiad,taking the bayside road lead- ing toward Castle Death, a place he had super- stitiously shunned before but which now, in the bitterness of his feelings, he sought. CHAPTER XVI. LORD GERALD’S Vow. ““My Lord of Castle Cor, whither dost thou ride?” The speaker stepped from bebind a and her sudden appearance startled both s and rider, for Lord Gerald had kept on until within a stone’s throw of Castle Death, and Zebel the Witcb had come like an apparition before him. ‘‘Curse you, thou hag of Satan, you nearly unhorsed me,” cried the young noble, savagely, for, as the reader knows, he was in no very envi- able humor. ‘““Ha! ha! ha! my haughty and savage sprig, you are free with your curses.” ‘Ha! do you dare address me thus insolent- ly?’ shouted the enraged Lord Gerald, raising his whip, as though to strike the woman. ‘“Yes, I dare address even you, for what are you 2” she insultingly replied. ‘‘ By the Cross! you shall find out who I am, and that Lord Gerald of Castle Cor has power to burn thee at the stake as a witch!” “Lord Gerald of Castle Cor! bah! you are no Jordling, boy.” There was something in the way the woman spoke that checked the temper of the young man, who, in reality, had a secret fear of her, as he had often he stories of her wonderful powers of witchcraft, and reading destinies. In eww 3S Se on ee Spe gazing at her for a ent, and-again s z as ou are no lord, Gerald, of Castle Cor.” “In Satan’s name what mean you, woman? 1 am Lord Gerald, the son of the Earl of Bel- mont.” “7 say you are not.” sirone ty folds hOmgwe," id bo mpraing from bis at se tongue,” and he sprung from his horse dnd moved toward her. a But she did not stir a step; only laughed mockingly, and he stopped ere he reached her, for there was something in her eyes he feared. ‘Come on, my lord Gerald,” she said sneer- ingly. f x noble lord should not fear an old woman; come, and carry thy threat into execution.” os Woman, thy sex alone me,” he said in an embarrassed way. * Let that not restrain you, boy; men have killed women before, ay, even innocent infants, and they will again; comeon, I say.” ee a I will leave thee; but cross not my path again. “No paps to 4 = boy, for I ou oe ae power, an in Isay you are not Lord Ger- ald o Castie Cor. fe ae ms nd again I say youlie in your false t, he ehPicbed alinase: 2 z e 4 1 api have be Aly yh ou canst not, Witch of Perdition.” ** And I say thou liest, for I can.” He turned deadly pale, and stared her almost iy, jn the face. nk as thou courage ear what I have to tell?” she asked with a sneer. = Nettled by her words, he answered: “Yes, I fear nothing, woman,” “Except loss of title and the wealth of the Earl of Belmont—ay, and the estates of Grey- hurst Castle, which thou dost expect to get by marrying the sweet Lady Grace. The mention of the name of the maiden, who had just discarded him, again aroused his wild temper, and he stepped toward her, and, with his open palm aimed a blow at her face: but his hand was clutched as though in a vise, and with a strength that showed him he was as a child in her grasp, she almost crushed the bones, causing him to ery out with pain: Devil! Witch, release me.” She threw his hand from her with a bitter dana ond said: ie : ‘The old Witch has greater strength than the 7 me y . 5 ‘ . i} tn gS the Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. ~ “Ha! and she tola—” i Ew he —_ lordling of Castle Cor: but would you ear what I have to tell yout” ‘*T have told you yes,” he answered, nursing his aching hand. ‘*Thou wouldst know why I say that thou art not Lord Gerald of Castle Cor?” ‘** Again I say yes.” “T will tell thee, boy: dost remember one called Donald Cameron, a Scotchman?” ‘* Yes, he was my father’s secretary.” “True: and his wife, dost thou remember her?” ‘*- Yes: she was my mother’s cousin.” ‘‘ Well, Donald Cameron was thy father, and his wife, Agnes, was thy mother.” ** Now, indeed, I know that thou liest,” “T have not finished my story, boy: I have but told thee who were thy parents, and now I will prove it.” rf ‘Thou canst not, Witch.” ‘* Listen: hast thou heard that the very night that the Lady Lenore gave birth to a ch Agnes Cameron did also? ‘Yes, her child, a little girl, was born dead.” ‘*There you are mistaken: the Lady Lenore’s child, a little girl, was born dead, and fearing for the health of the countess, and that he would have no heir to his proud name and wealth, and his brother Hurtel would become the Earl of Belmont in case of his death, the man you believe your father, exchanged his dead girl for Donald Cameron’s live boy.” ‘ This is false! false as perdition.” “ Listen: you were that boy, and consequently you are not the real heir to Castle Cor and the title of Earl of Belmont.” “Woman! Witch! or whatever you are, you have no proof of this.” 5 ‘*] have: Donald Cameron and his wife were af bribed by your father to this act, and, with the vast sum he gave them, they sailed for America; : but after long years’ stay in the New World, and remaining childless, they determined to return to Ireland, give up the bribe money, fer they had been prosperous, and claim you, their boy. cf And why bave they not done so?’ sneered the young man. “ Because they are dead.” “Dead! oh yes, [remember they went down \ at sea in crossing the ocean.” - ‘They did not: they werecaptured by Hurtel of the Red Hand, and Donald was severely wounded, and died some days after, but not until he had made a written confession of what I have told you, while his wife dying soon after of abroken heart, made the same statement upon her death-bed.” “ How know you this, woman?” ‘*T hold the two comfessions; and more, the nurse, who cared for the countess and Cameron in tbeir illness, yet lives, and J have seen “She told me only what a m to her caused her to divulge, for a fearful oath, and a olden bribe, with the thought that she was oing no great wrong, kept her tongue silent.” “ And you are that nurse?” - “Tt matters not who, or what I am; I have the proof of what I say, and I can bring your rs. proud head down in the dust, boy.” ja ** Does my mother know of this?” “If you mean by your mother, the Countess of Belmont, I will say no; she believes you her child, for she was unconscious when the ex- change was made by the nurse and your father, and with the consent of Donald and Agnes Cam- eron, ‘And they, that is those who you say are my nts, are dead?” os * The are.” ‘* And the earl, the nurse and yourself—if you are not the nurse—alone know this secret?” Forgetting his 1 kc upon her, the youth or, ng ast attac m he e you turned. and dropping his hand in his bosom half drew ad r; but meeting her eyes, he hesi- tated, and she said me aie ; ‘* Beware, boy, for I can ou if so I will; I have told you the truth, and I have proof; but Paty»: not betray you, if you ' one ng. *« And that is—?” ‘*T have told you that your father was k by Hurtel of the Red Hand, and your mo ae died of a broken heart, so you have cause to hate their murderer.” 2 ; “True, if what you have said is not false.” nite ‘«T too have cause to hate him, and the secret shall never find the light, and you may live and die as Earl of Belmont, if you will bh a slay, and bring me proof of the death of Burtel of the Red Hand.” “ But how can I, woman?” “ Your fatber—that is the Earl of Lelmont— has influence with the king, and you wer < ears in the siebec = as a middy, su ould bave good Ow. . onl ba what then?’ ‘Get the earl to have King Billy commission oe ee eee t, and then cruise for Hurtel of the Red Hand, and kill him.” =* . é “ By the Cross! but you offer an enticing im- ducement, woman, for I have ever beensorry Ek a aoe - -* —- a —_ a NS
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a ee oad PI fee ice a eumesmcmeandd SS ose SAL eS BOE — FH OME aa eg es ne Oe me 7 Ka — lh ee th i 6 oe eos 12 = —? — __ eer = Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. resigned from the navy, and the duty would be a pleasure to me.” ‘Then you accept my terms?” ‘‘That this secret shall die with you, if I kill Hurtel of the Red Hand?” ‘*T accept, for this day have I quarreled with the Lady Grace, and if I win a name upon the seas, she may retract, for I dearly love her, woman.” ** And you vow it?’ “ es.” ‘By the Cross?” “ es.” ‘‘By the grave! and by perdition! by high Heaven, aut thy hope hereatter, you vow to do this [ ask of you?” ““ ] do 1”? “Then farewell, my Lord Gerald of Castle Cor, and a pleasant ride home to you.” “When shall I start?” ** At once.” “T will go to-night; adieu, Sathaness, until we meet again.” ** Adieu, my noble Lord Gerald, and luck at- tend thee, that disgrace may not follow.” He made no reply, but leaping into his saddle dashed away at full speed on his return to the house, which, in spite of his desire to disbelieve what Zebel the Witch had told him, he could not but feel he had no right to. : Arriving at the castle he sought the earl, re- ceived a letter to King William,* and ere sun- *Time of story laid about 1690, and running into the 18th century, when William Third was king.— THE AUTHOR. : set was going in haste to the nearest seaport to catch a vessel which was to sail that night for London, for the young man was more than anxious, on his own account, to hunt down and kill Hurtel of the Red Hand, as he felt assured that the famous buccaneer was indeed the for- mer master of Castle Crag, and in the event of the Earl of Belmont’s death, did he know the secret of the exchange of the dead and living infants, could lay just claim to the title and estates of his brother; but Hurtel dead, the Witch should follow, then the old nurse, ay, and last the earl himself, for fear he might repent, or fo mad, and make the baleful secret known. hen, and then beng would the devilish plotter against human life feel secure, and to accomplish this end, and yet win Lady Grace of Greyhurst by fair or foul means, Gerald. sup Lord of Castle Cor, made to himself another vow. ; CHAPTER XVII. KENTON CAVANAUGH UNEARTHS A MYSTERY. Ir was with an aching heart, that Kenton Savanaugh turned away from Castle Cor, where he had bad such a brief dream of happiness, and yet, a happiness mingled with deep grief, for he dearly loved his old father, and mourned deep- ly his sad and oy , But there, suddenly before his astonished eyes, and years before he had dreamed of such a thin coming to pass, he had seen himself an honor guest of the Earl of Belmont, and an officer of the Royal Navy, while praises for his courage were heard upon every side, And yet, in the midst of his success, he had met witi he now madly loved. : Proud, sensitive and just toward: himself, be could not remain under the same roof with Lord Gerald, and consequently he dashed the cup of bliss from his lips, hardly tasted, and turned away to feast on gall and wormwood, Descending the path to the beach, he walked swiftly along toward his old home, determined to seek comfort in the memories of the past. coed a ashes of his childhood’s cabin would recall ona wg 3 in the shadow of a tree, whose branches had been scorched by the flames, he pondered over the —_ and said, sadly: “Ah, my poor dead father, what a joyous visit would it have been to me;*had you lived to geet me, and say that you were proud of bard y; but you rest in your grave now, and | re- main to one day avenge you, for well I know who it was that murdered you, ay, and you ‘were? murdered for me; they sought me, not 4m anc .ue bloodbounds were Set on by ‘Lord ly of Meredith Castle. “A bright record indeed for a young noble to begin life,” he added, . bitterly, and, after a pause, ecutinued: “Alas! am I wretched indeed, far insult has driven me from her nce, but I will yet make men, high and low, feel that I am not a dog to be spit upon, if I have not noble blood in wy veins.’ ’ a long time he hung around the old fa- over him orward, seized he stepped a ru ie a hoat-hook, and commenced scraping away the Es cabin had not ar - dt was an casy Pe) Berns task, for the old C2 peste ¥ insult from the brother of the woman. , and at ag as a sudden idea swept | been massive in its structure, and he soon had a clear place, just where the hearth had been. Familiar with the old hearthstone, before which he had so often sat on winter nights, lis- tening to the teachings of old Dermot within, and the howling winds and roaring surf with- out, he soon raised a heavy slab, which display- ed a square hole beneath. And in that sepulcher was the gold saved up by the old fisherman from the sales of fish and game. It was all there, untouched, and unsought for, proving more conclusively that robbery had not been the cause of the attack on the cot, for who had believed that there was gold to be found in an humble fisherman’s cabin? And there was more than the gold, for a small, iron-bound box, skillfully inlaid with ivory, was there, and taking it out and placing the money in his belt, Kenton Cavanaugh walked away to the shelter of the trees and sat down to examine the contents of the little box. Several times bad the youth .seen his father open it by a concealed spring, and had him tell him that there was a secret held in there that one day he should know. His memory did not fail him about the spring, and the lid of the box flew open, revealing the contents. A pair of iron manacles, filed apart, told a tale of misery and imprisonment, escape, and perhaps death; then came a dagger, blood- stained to the hilt, and this also told a story, and was linked in the mind of Kenton Cava- naugh with the iron manacles, A necklace of ls, a roll of what appeared to be fine linen, but which unrolled displayed a suit of baby re a bundle of papers, and a crucifix of solid gold, comprised the contents of the box. Upon these did Kenton Cavanaugh gaze with acange curiosity, and one by one he raised them. Taking up the manacles first, he read on a bit of paper attached to them: “ Filed off at midnight December 25th, 1675.” These were laid back in the box, and the dagger was closely examined, and it, too, had a piece of paper attached, and on it, in the same and as the writing on the manacles, was written: “The dagger that gave me freedom, after ten long years ina dungeon. ‘December 25th, 1675— one quarter of an hour after midnight.” The crucifix was next examined, and again a scrap of paper told its story: ‘*My companion on the gallows, December Ist, 1665, y companion in prison for ten ears. z Around the roll of linen was a silk scarf, and upon this was pinned, with skill and neatness: ‘*An escaped prisoner, seeking safety in flight, one night on the Irish coast, ran his boat into a small cove, near a grand old castle, and sought repose. ‘“ Awakened suddenly by a sound near by, he discovered that a storm had swept over sea and land, and that a large vessel was within a short distance of him. ' ‘““Glancing from his hiding place, he saw strange scenes, and at last heard cries of anguish and of anger, heard running feet, a shot, a death-cry, and down through the air came a dark object, falling into the water within. ten feet of where lay his boat. “The dark object sunk from sight, but a white object remained on the water, and the fugitive drew it toward him, and found it to be a little infant,” That the pearl necklace went with the. baby- clothes Kenton did not doubt, and placing them together, he took up the pa e of papers. Pirst there was a Proclamation to Irish Pa- triots, to rise and cast off the yoke upon them; this was signed by ‘‘ Kenton, the Irish [nsur- ent. ; ee Ha! my own name; there is some deep, strange mystery lying back of all this,” said the youth, excitedly. Another paper was a reward for the capture of the “Irish Insurgent Chief, Kenton,” and offering the sum of five thousand pounds for him, ‘‘ dead or alive.” Ne Across this was written in the same hand as that upon the scraps of paper: ‘Betrayed and sold by my dearest friend.” A death-warrant, condemning Kenton, the Irish Insurgent Chief, to die on the gallows came next, and upen this was written: “Sentence commuted on the gallows to life im- prieckcnents not through mercy. but that I might ve and suffer,” Another, and the last, read as follows: “In this quiet nouk by the sea, I have found a re- fuge far from the strife of my fellow-men. ailing in freeing my people from the shackles they wear, pore and sold by my friends, con- demned to die, then to live and suffer, and yet, by my own good right hand, freeing myself f:0m a liy- ing death, here in this retreat let me find rest until the grave shall close over me, and my ashes mingle with the dust out of which I was created.” There was no signature, and yet Kenton Cav- anaugh knew who had penned those lines, and he murmured, sadly: See ins “My father, then, was that famous Irish | ‘ Aeok pr | pa ae ag? ss SS See be = SU TEREE 2.6m a surgent Chief, of whose strange history I have so often read! A nobleman, pitying the mise- ries of the people, he sought to break off their peg sin and those he would have aided betray- im. ““Now I can understand much that was a mystery in my father’s life; and I do come of. noble blood—the noblest in all Ireland was Ken- ton Tudor’s race; and I come well by my- haughty pride, which is so condemned in a ant; but was Lord Kenton Tudor, the Trish Tm surgent, my father? ‘Ah! there is the mystery, and one I must: solve, for the contents of this box put wild thoughts in my brain, ef ! the sun is sinking behind the horizon, and I must not forget my promise to Zebel the Witch, for I will meet her, come what may.” CHAPTER XVIII. THE LIGHTNING’S STROKE. HARDLY had the sun sunk behind the distant: hills, when there rolled up above the horizon a mass of black clouds, that plainly betokened a: storm. But, unheeding the threatening elements Ken-: ton Cavanaugh went to the beach, and shoved his little skiff into the sea, the same in which a little over two weeks before he had sailed out. to the cruiser in. It had been undisturbed by any one, doubt-. less from a superstitious dread of going near the scene of murder by night, and a fear to be seen from Castle Cor by day, rather than from. strict honesty: the sail was furled around the. mast, as Dermot had left it, the oars lay on the seats, and the tiller lay by them, and it was but the work of a couple of minutes to ship the latter, step the mast, and unfold the lateen can- breeze. vas to the 5 A gentle wind was blowing, and before it the skiff went smoothly along, rounded the head- land on which stood Castle Cor, Kenton me- chanically steering on his way, for he was glancing up at the massive rock structure, as: one by one the lamps were lighted and streamed. out over the dark waters. Before him, still tinged with the rosy hue of departing day, was the further shore of the bay, with Castle Death rising grim and soli above the forest back-ground, for no lights were. then in the crumbling windows to beckon bim. on, or to welcome bim after he landed. Behind him loomed up the inky storm-clouds, growing blacker as they rolled heavenward, and casting an inky pall upon the sea. Leaving Castle Cor astern, he headed for the cave beneath the shelter of Castle Death, and as. he sped along the sky grew darker, and it seem- ed, when he looked ahead, that he was sailing into a very abyss of night, so black was shore and castle. ; But mains. a vivid glare broke out of the storm-clouds, lighting up momentarily the en- tire bay, curving shores, and castles, and blind- ing the young sailor with its brilliancy: and then, a second after, came a crash of Heaven’s artillery, that shook the very waters, and sound. edas though the armies of Heaven and Helk had met in battle. But the firm hand on the tiller never wavered, the bows of the skiff never swerved, for the in- trepid heart of Kenton Cavanaugh knew no fear, held no dread of danger on sea or land. Again came a vivid flash, and there, on the - wer of Castle Death appeared a strange te) rm. The quick eye of the sailor caught sight of a strange being, standing fearlessly upon the turrets, with arms outstretched toward the storm, as if wooing its chilling embrace, and with her long white hair streaming the wind bebind her, and the scarlet cloak floating: around her shoulders like a mantle of flame. A weird, strange creature she was,.defying death, as it were, standing fearlessly upon a stone that might crumble away beneath her feet and burl her two hundred feet below; gaz- ing with joy upon the rising storm, and glory- ing in the vivid lightning, fearful thunder and. the howling winds. “Hal ba! ha! he comes! he comes!” she. shrieked forth, as the flash of lightning showed her the little skiff heading ior the castle steps. ‘*Hal! ha! ba! he fears not darkness, danger or death,” n she cried, and, in spite of his. wonderful nerve Kenton Cavanaugh felt a shiv- er run through his heart; but the idea of turn— ing back never entered his thoughts, though now he felt assured that he had to deal with a madwoman, and one whom the peasant and the- noble, too, for in those early days superstition held full sway, believed to bea witch, : weird influence over men and women, know]l- edge of the past and future, and holding her- power from Satan himself; ~ A few moments more and he would reach fhe, castle steps; but again came a vivid glare, and. the heavens seemed rended with fiery arrows, that descended upon the lofty sea tower of Cas- tle Death, shivering its rocks to atoms, and — sending them flying over the waters. while the. huge struct er thi seemed to sway junder the shock, aa. though the tasaire foundation sonia Moms Teens cee cy, te hs, ae 4% * a A? = hy pA eS ? oa el oe es ~ ry = 7
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’ was no one within twenty le Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. lightning? stroke and crash of thunder, even enton Cavanaugh’s firm hand slipped from the tiller, and the skiff rocked violently from the concussion of the waves; but quickly recov- ering himself he held his boat on its course once more, and then looked upward. The sea tower had been riven of its turrets but yet it stood firm, ready to face a century of storms to come. And the Witch? : She had gone, for the rock upon which her feet had anea: ay at the bottom of the bay. “Tf I find not her mangled body in yonder tower, then indeed is she a witch,” and Kenton Cavanaugh, sprung out upon the moss-grown water stairs, lowered his sail, and darted into the arched entrance of the sea tower, just asthe | storm swept with fury over the bay, and struck Castle Death with a shock that caused it to tremble to its very foundation. CHAPTER XIX. A PAGE FROM THE PAST, Once under the shelter of the Castle, and Kenton Cavanaugh was protected from the storm, that broke with such savageness as he dashed into it, but such a protection, with the old stone pile quivering to its , a moment before struck by the lightning’s stroke, with the dead Cormac and Elpsey in the court-yard, and how many other graves.in the ruin, who could tell; with the wind howling through the arched windows and long corridors, and perhaps the bleeding form of the Witch mangled among the rocks, forever deaf to the mad tempest with- out. Acquainted with the inner geography of the | - castle, the young man wended his way through the darkness, ever and anon discovering that he was not going wrong, by the livid streams of lightning that passed into the ruin lighting up every crack and cranny as though under the glare of sunlight. UP the stone stairway, which was descended by Sir Hurtel, his mysterious female compan- ion, old Cormac, and Elpsey bearing an infant, | twenty years before, Kenton Cavanaugh went, reaching the grand corridor and hallway, into which the chambers opened; here he paused, as the old castle again rocked under the crash of thunder that seemed rolling under its very foundations, “ Kenton Cavanaugh, you are the bravest of the brave.” The voice startled the young man, for it seem- ed to come from a sepulcher; but yet he recog- nized the tones of Zebel, the Witch, and an- swered quickly: “I was seeking you, and believed that I would find only your mangled remains, Zebel, for I did not see you leave the tower before the light- ning struck.” ‘*Bah! what care I for lightning and thun- der? Am I not protected by the Evil One, and has he not put bis hellish blessing upon my te as the priest blesses the rosary or rae xf In spite of himself he shuddered, for there es of Castle Death but what believed that Zebel, the Witch, held her powers from Satan. “You are in a defiant mood to-night, Zebel, to dare the Almighty; but I came not to quar- rel, or to lecture you, but at your request for you have said you could tell me of the past and the future; but I would much rather re- | build my old cot for you, that you might live in comfort the remainder of your days, than see you roaming night and day among these old rocks.” She made no reply, but by the now inces- sant uightning he saw that her head was droop. ing, and her bosom heaving violently, and he knew that she was deeply moved, and con- tinued: : “Come, Zebel, cast off this dire curse that seems upon you, and live like a Christian wo- man; I have gold, which my poor father was not robbed of, and by which we came honestly ; take it. Zebel, and it byl. es youcomfortable, for you are no longer young.” “Bo , you talk wildly; no longer young? Why fam not double your age, although my hair is like snow; grief, erings, made that hair white, not age; but we must not k of myself, but of you, for I am comfortable as I am, and the only joy I will ever have in life is living as | do, causing cowardly peasants to fly from my path, and nobles to tremble at sight of me.” “You are not terrible to me, Zebel,” he as- sured kindly. “Oh. God ! do you mean that, boy?,do you swear that Zebel the Witch of Castle Death, has no terror for you?? and she grasped his arm excited] ’ “Indeed you have not; I pity you, and I would see you change this life, which is akin to that of a wild beast.” ‘“‘T know it, but Fate made me what I am, ad my destiny I must follow to the end; so be it, [am eontent, Jbis life, akin to the wild beast, as you say, is preferable to what has heen; but come, you would hear what I can tell you of thy destiny; first, to prove my truth, ‘cd hag ean read sigaa in the heaven when they are torn with storm-clouds, rent with lightning, and trembling with thunder, my sight can pierce the blackness, and, undazzled by their light, find there all you would know; come, this is the room in which my sweet story should be told; come, in here, Kenton Cavan- augh, and drink to the dregs the bitter cup I hold to your lips.” he led the way into the large room, once the favorite chamber of Hurtel of the Red Hand, when a self-exile and lonely dweller in what was then known as Castle Crag. CHAPTER XX. THE FIRST DRAUGHT FROM THE BITTER CUP. Upon seen | the large chamber, wake: which the wind swept with rude gusts, the Witch led the young man to the window, over- looking the bay, and Castle Cor beyond. “There, now between the lightnings’ flashes do you see lights in yonder castle?” she asked. es | _ ‘* That is Castle Cor, the home of the Earl of | Belmont.” ‘* Woman, I know that well,” ‘In that castle dwells the proud ear] and his family—see! how distinctly the grand old pile was visible then, when the lightning shot down behind it; it revealed to me, that which you did not see.” ** And what was that, Zebel?”’ ‘The sweet Lady Kate seated in her window, straining ber eyes upon this ruin, for she knows that you are here, that I, the Witch, am here, and that a fiery bolt descended upon the sea tower, and her heart is alarmed for your sate- | _ ‘Why should she, a proud lady, feel anxiety for me, a low-born peasant?” be asked in a bit- ter tone. ‘‘ Because she loves you, boy, and woman’s love is a religion without a God.” ‘*Ah! Zebel, you may read signs, but you cannot read a woman’s heart.” ‘‘T am a woman, and I have a heart; even | though it be of iron, with the anguish it has _ known; then why should I not read the heart ofa woman? — “T tell you, boy, that Kate of Cor loves you, and with the same idolatrous worship that the Mexican Priestesses love their God, the Sun.” ** And she is noble, and I am low-born.” “‘Ha! ha! ha! why’ boy, you know not what pe are; it is that which r would make known yo | _ © Woman, what mean you?’ Am I other than | I seem? the son of the old fisherman, Dermot Cavanaugh?” he eagerly asked. “Tsay, yes; and I say you are not the son of | Dermot Cavanaugh.” & ‘‘By Heaven! I half suspected it, phone none could be to me more of a father than “Then you believe me?” “ A strange suspicion I have bad compels me to, though how can you know that of which I am ignorant?” “You forget, boy, that I read the Heavens as though they were an open book, and I know, _ what other mortals do not.” ; ns Then prove thy powers, by telling me who am. ‘“*Didst ever hear thy supposed father speak of thy mother, boy?” ‘He has told me, when I asked him, that she | died when I was a mere infant.” . ‘* He knew not what to tell thee, for he never | knew thy mother; did he ever tell thee, boy, | who thy father was?” — p *“‘T never doubted, until the day that has passed, that he was not my father.” The woman remained silent for a moment, and aint y ge the storm became less violent, | the thunder rolled far away, and the vividness : of the lightning had gone. | “Kenton Cavanaugh, as men know thee, I | will say that Dermot Cavanaugh was a good | man at heart, for he was a nobleman by birth and in deed; but, alas! he was the cause of untold misery for the ple, as, pitying the slavery of the nts, he sought to instill in their minds a desire for freedom, which they had not the brain to understand, and—he failed. ‘Yes, failed; but not until hundreds fell be- fore the king’s troops, shot down as insurgents, | and thousands went into a slavery more galling tnan that which they bad known, * But their leader escaped, and fled to the Colonies, where he remained for years, hatch- ne oe ae Basing oe ~ People of his native and, and again he return i on the coast with sopeheny ss) th, OE yom th 4 A caates ct in oad te zeus ee ee) ee oe chief.” biz * ‘Ha! I thought thou didst not know, boy.” -now believe to be my ss aa 3 this afternoon did I discover it, fron rs found amid the ashes of our cabin.” “Tis well: but Kenton Tudor was not thy father, I po io “Then who was, I ask, woman?” “Hast thou nerve to drink a cup of sorrow, bo id a Ay, to the dregs, if it concerns me, Zebel,’” he answered firmly. ‘*Then thou sbalt have it in all its bitterness: thou dost stand now in the very room in which thou wert born.” “Good God! witch! woman! whatever thou art, do you mean what you say?” he cried ex- citedly. She laughed wildly for an instant, and re- sumed: ‘Yes, and thou hast just taken the first sip from the cup of thy doom,” ‘*And in this room, the home of Sir Hurtel, I was born?” “True as Holy Writ; here thou wert born, and in this castle didst thou pass the first: months of thy baby life.” “Woman, play not with my feelings, but tell me who were my —— for thy words tally strangely with what I found with Dermot Cavanaugh’s papers.” “T tell thee first, so thou mayest see that I do not deceive you in my powers of reading the human heart; I say that here wert thou born and thouart theson of— No, not yet will I tell thee whom; but thy father and thy mother sailed from this castle one night of storm, strangely such a one as this is.” “Thank God! then they were guests of this: castle, and not otherwise, as a horrible‘ sus- picion floated through my mind and caused me to believe, to dread, for an instant?’ and the hand he Jaid upon her arm trembled violently. “Yes, they sailed away from this castle, and you, a mere baby, were taken down to the base. of the sea tower, toreceive from them their last. farewell, for you were to remain in the care of. a purse. ‘But one whom thy father had angered, a Gipsy, one of a tribe encamped near —you know the spot well—was on that vessel, as one of its. crew, and, then and there he struck what be be~- lieved to be a de&th-blow; aye, struck your father in the back with a long blade that went. deep into his body. Relieving he had killed him he sprung from the vessel’s stern to the shore, and, as the hue and cry was raised after him, he seized you from the arms of the woman who held you, and bounded up the path that borders the preci- ice; but though men dare not fire upon him, or fear of injuring you, your mother did, and her aim was deadly, for Santos the Gipsy sprung from the dizzy hight, clutching you still in his arms, and down, down into the dark, raging waters below he plunged, and—” “By Heaven, woman, witch, or whatever thou art, now do I know that thou art more than mortal, for Dermot Cavanaugh tells the story, by what he has written on a silk sash, of a child and a man coming over the cipice the night of the storm, within a ship’s lengths of Death Castle, and that he drew the in- fant from the water; more he does not say, but» the clothing, and a pearl necklace in his posses- sion I know now proves that he took, and cared for that baby through life.” ‘* And that child was you.” — os x cannot doubt it; but to your story—why left my parents, as you say they were, their child pho 25 : oj ‘*Did I not say to thee that thy father sunk down sorely wounded, and, as all believed, dead; and, when thy mother saw that she had av: his deach, she too swooned away, for there was. no hope of rescue for the baby, yourself, boy,. as Santos, the Gipsy, fell from yonder precipice. two hundred feet, bearing you in his arms, and. the sea was running high, the sweeps had car- ried the vessel’s head around until the rough winds seized the sails, and away she darted out. of the bay, and lucky, too, for she carried her- commission in her captain’s sword.” Brg erry for the love of Heaven! tell me. what dark deeds you hint at now?” . 4 “First let me tell you that you were that baby, and Dermot Cavanaugh saved your life. and raised youashisownchild.” ~~ >. “That Iknow. Now tell meof my 4 “Thy father did not die; ay, he came no nearer death with his fearful wound than did thy mother with her broken heart at the loss of her babe.” be ‘“‘ But whither sailed they?” et “Over the seas, wherever the wind listeth to waft their vessel, and where gold- babs, ice ships sailed thickest.” 3 “Fiend! do you dare hint that those whom I rovers? 9 ngs 2 Biot ttigt ony sathoen erould Do you di nt that my father wo mother into deeds of outlawry and crim ha! ha! honorable ae and the “Hal ] from. such as thou! ha! ha! ha!” woman seiged laughed maliciously until the young man seige her witha gant of iron, and, fearfully excited, arene bel a hissed forth: es fai ies s If thou dost not tell me why ou. ; ns pice kee eee
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on the coast of the 14 Captain Kyd, the K ing of the Black Flag. “ Hurl thee into the sea! his father’s very ! in the wild waves, for he was being driven out | his people, for he was a Gi ou know, bo words; ay, and, like that father, he will do as | to sea, when Jule, the Gipsy, returning to her ey yey fs MG he threatens.” / camp in her little life skiff ran upon him, and The woman seemed to momentarily forget the | —saved him.” existence of the youth, as some bygone memory swept over her; but he recalled her quickly to the present by saying, in deep tones: ‘It would have been better for both, accord- ing to you, woman, if she had left him to die.” ‘Yes, far better; but she took him to her “Yes, cast one blot upon the fair name of | camp, and his arm being broken, and his bead those to whom I owe m hes being, and, were | cut by the keel of her boat, she nursed him back d thou even not a witch, 1 wou death, into the dark waters below,” She glanced into his face, dimly visible, and saw that he would keep his word, while the clutch upon her arm told her that he was not Lord Gerald, of Castle Cor, that she could handle as she could a child, and then, for the first time in her life, Zebel, the Witch, trem- bled with fear. CHAPTER XXI. QUAFFING ANOTHER DRAUGHT FROM THE . BITTER CUP. ** Boy, I came here to tell you the truth of the t, not to be threatened, because that which I would say rings not pleasantly in your ears,” and the same defiant manner e back to the woman. “Then cease thy mocking laughter, when you eak of those whose names I look upon as ‘** Must I lie? hold them up before thy gaze as saints, when I know them to be—” “ce What?’ “cc Devils. ” ; In an instant his hands were upon her, with a force she had no power to t, and raising her in his arms he was about to hurl her into the — below, when her loud, piercing shriek re- ed him to himself, and he placed her on her feet once more, saying humbly: “Woman, I would ask your pardon; I was not myself, for things have gone wrong with me tk gat sg it Peay to od pied parents spoken of as though they were the bases of the base.” * Boy. thou bast an iron p; the same that thy father had, for he too was a marvel of strength; but lay not thy bands on me for I like not their touch, and, as thou dost no care to hear what I would tell thee, go!” For a moment he seemed half inclined to obey her; but then he said: ‘‘ This is cowardice an me, to dread hearing the truth; speak! I wi ill joy: to all thou hast to say.” that which does not chime in with thy desires?” “ Yes, ’ll not touch thee again, for already am I ashamed that I should have intended hharm to a woman.” ‘Now, thou dost reason as I would have thee; well, I said that thy parents were devils,” She paused, but though he started at the «word, he remained silen’, and she continued: “That they loved thee there is no doubt, and that they mourned thy axppcued death is true; for, hadst thou been with them, their love, if not their lives might have been different.” ~ ‘* And who were they?” “Devils, I say,” she answered, seemingly ‘ith malicious joy at torturing him; but he said calmly: 2 “80 thou has told me thrice: now give me their names and rank,” © “T will, though with the first sip of the cup, you will find it gall; thy mother was a Gipsy. ‘‘ A Gipsy? Why I’d rather che were a peas- ant even,” and he assumed a manner as though to meet her assertions with cool indifference. “Yes, she was a Gipsy one of the tribe of Benedictine, and from Old ie Sani but differing ‘from the usual forest childre ‘by sea, and encamped on land, always near the sea, for they owned a fleet of swift craft, @ score or more in number, and spread their sails for —_ = of i aay Tag land- in the ovi en in y; again ing o Mediterranean, and again in France, until at last their roving na brought them to these shores, and not half a deague from here. . : “So balmy was the air, so fertile the soil, so contented were they in Ireland, that for a long time their vessels remained idle, anchored in what is now called Gipsy Cove; and there it was that the maiden, who won your father’s heart, dwelt with her people. “Once he saved her from abuse by some an- % ts, and from that day her heart went fouth to b or though she was destined by the \aws of her tribe to marry one of her own race r man who was yet to wear the title o ay king of her e. fe loweh tee, and she was content until the day when nage! father crossed her path.” ‘And who was my father, woman?” “ *t be too anxious to know, for, the word of Zebel the Witch for it, you will not be prowd The youth shuddered at her ominous reply, remained silent, and she continued: - one night, just such an thy lion B soe off me, if I speak | n, they roamed | hurl thee to thy | to life. “But Santos the Gipsy became jealous, swore revenge, and, that night on the vessel, as I have said, he drove a knife into your father’s back.” ‘* He married the Gipsy girl then?” ‘* Ha! ha! ha! married her, did you say?” “* Yes, won by her devotion to him and wish- ing to eg her for all she had done—” ** Ha! ha! hu! no, boy, he did not marry her, ah no! but he took her from her people, and—” He again stepped toward her, but checking himself, said, in hoarse tones: ‘* Witch of Hell! I will listen to all thou hast to say, blacken my name as thou mayst; but, i? thy words are false, then I swear to thee, I will —a the peasantry to burn theeat the stake, and well thou knowest how willing they are to kin- dle the fire around thee.” “Tf I speak false, then carry thy oath into execution; but mark ye, Pil have my revenge for that threat, boy, in seeing thee writhe under my words. F “T say that thy father did not make thy mother his wife, and more, thou art his son, and the son of Jule the Gipsy.” ‘Oh, God! this is terrible!” and he groaned in agony of spirit. ‘‘ Aha! the iron enters thy heart now, but be brave, for I am not done yet, the cup is not more than half quaffed, and the dregs, you em settle in ene a tials e to and fro, and the clouds having Mee kes the starlight shone resplendent, and showed that his face was deadly pale, as he turned it to the arched window, for the winds to cool his burning brow. “Hast collec thy nerve to hear more?” asked Zebel the Witchin a malicious tone. “Yes, what more can I hear?’ “That you shall know anon,” and she drew nearer to him, laying her hand upon his arm, and turning her burning black eyes full upon his own, CHAPTER XXII. DRAINING TO THE DREGS THE CUP OF WOE. ** Yes,” continued the Witch in a low, but painfully distinct tone, ‘ thou art basely born.” He shrunk from her, as though a serpent had stung him, and yet he remaind silent, though his lips moved. Apparently she enjoyed the pain she gave, for upon her face rested a devilish smile, such an one as Satan might wear, when welcoming a lost soul into his Inferno. ““But thou art not responsible for the sins of thy parents, for Gipsy Jule loved your father, and Lelteved that he loved her; she was am- bitious, aimed high in life and fell lower than the lowest, yet she clung to the man for whom she had sacrificed honor, and her people, clung to him through all. “ But at length, urged to it by the discarded Gi lover, Santos, her tribe determined that Jule must give up her lover, or that he must become one of her people, ‘Tt was talked over at the Death Council that condems an unworthy Gipsy to death, and all decided that if she did not obey, and leave the man she had forsaken them for, that she must die, and this they told her. ; ‘‘But he would not give her up, and asked if there was no way to save her? “Yes, her life could be saved by his casting away from him his creed, his kindred, his countrymen, and his native land, in fact by be- coming, like Jule, one of a roving race, ‘‘He was given one month to decide, and he decided as Gipsy Jule urged: he became one of the tribe of Sea Wanderers. ; Ing more: recognizing his greatness, ard eee ae his courage, at the death of the old king, the lineal Benedictine, they made your father their royal ruler.” . ‘Tt isa relief to know that he did not desert the maiden he had dishonored, be she Gipsy or peasant,” said the yang mse coldly. “ Build up no h your heart that your father had honor, for he had not. “Tsay he was chosen Gipsy king, and then a council was held, for the people along the Irish eoast were im against the wandering tribe, the treasure-box of the tribe was run low, and it was decided that they must sprea their white sails and fly to other lands, while the royal craft, as fleet as the wind, armed and manned, must cruise awhile for riches. ‘Of that royal craft a ther was made pe ee t of his being king, and thus it was that he me a pirate. Again the blow struck hard, and the man reeled, as though about to fall, but recovering himself, he sai hoarsely, “‘Go on! why do you ” : 1 ae “To give you time to rally, for, strong as you: sought another haven in a forei land, he, | wedded to the sea, and the wild life he led hoisted the banner of the buccaneer, and swept from sea to sea, spreading terror along every coast, and winning a name that sent a shudder to the bravest heart.” ** And what was that name, woman?” “Have ever heard that the Earl of Belmont had a brother?’ ‘* Yes, but for the love of God! speak!” ‘*A brother,” coolly continued the woman, ‘“‘whom he cheated of bis bride, and sent te lonely exile in this castle?” “Yes, yes, I say.” “Well, that brother was it, that dishonored se x Jule.” hat! Hurtel of the Red Hand?” “ Ay, your father; Hurtelof the Red Hand |* A ery broke from the pallid lips of the wretched man, and he fell his full length upon the stone floor, and, as though death had placed his icy touch upon his pulse, lay motio as the rock upon which the castle : CHAPTER XXIT. HOPE’S FAREWELL. “HOLY HEAVEN! I have killed him; his heart was too tender to stand the rude thrusts; no, no, no, he is not dead! he will not die! he shall not die! ‘Yes, I, Zebel the Witch, will it; he shall not die!” She — fled from the room, and returnil in a moment or two, ignited a taper and hel the flame near his face, shading it with her hand, that the wind might not blow it out “* He looks as though he were dead; but he is not;” and she felt his pulse, and with a scared look his hand and pressed her ear against his heart. ‘‘Ha! ha! ha! the temple of clay is yet ten- anted with life! ha! ha! ha! now to h bint back from this death-like swoon.” _ She chafed his hands, bathed his face with water from a flask, which hung to her belt, and a dropped a liquid from a tiny bottle on his ps. . The effect was wonderful, for back once more came swinging the pendulum of life; the eyes out, the red blood rushed into the face, a shudder shook his frame, and, with a sudden bound the man was on his feet once more, Yet bis eyes wandered wildly about, and for an instant, as she gazed upon him, she feared — he had gone’ mad; that grief had turned rain, ‘‘ Ha! now I remember all, thou hag of Satan; thou didst say that I was the son of an unwed- ded woman; of Gipsy Jule of the Wandering Race?” ‘*Yes, so said I.” “‘ And more; thou son of Sir Hurtel of Castle ?’ and, as he asked the question, leaning against the stone window, he was strangely calm. <a so said I,” answered Zebel the Witch in see y as calm tones. ‘‘And more! thou didst say that Sir Hurtel, once the master of Castle Crag, now known as Castlo Death, was Hurtel of the Red Hand,” “Yes, the pirate whose bloody deeds upon the sea gained for him that name; yes, he was thy father.” ae know where ae A gl Fe ‘He is upon the sea. g his pirate banner, and leapian: behind him a red eons and the wails of women and children, the eries of dying men, to follow him upon every wind that wafts ‘him alorg.” “Ha! ha! ha! youare a false witch, if thou sayest that Hurtel of the Red Hand lives,” With a spring like a tiger at its prey, the wo- man was upon him, her hands upon either shoulder, while she hissed forth: . os hou liest} Hurtel of the Red Hand is not ead. ** And L echo back the lie, for I say that he is, and that thou art a false witch.” She saw that he spoke as one who meant all that he said, and she asked in a low tone: ‘How know you this?’ ; **How know I that Hurtel of the Red Hand ia ns ted because I saw him die.” _ : en?’ “« At sea, on his own deck.” ‘‘ Ha! you sailed from here in a king's cruiser?” “Aba! it is your turn to question now, and you look as if my wt were not music to your ears, woman. “Tf you speak the truth, then are thy words dulcet tones in my ears, ay, and honeyed drops into my heart.” “T speak the truth, for I saw him die.” ‘* Your cruiser engaged him then “ Yes, we had first it, then we met a w Hand.” “ And you captured her?’ “No; erew boarded us, n Ww | arg, Lake Le BS Bae iF a. “Yes; your father became 4 pirate, for, while © the Oe ae Ce te erat eal didst say that I was the Tee tae para ve ee the Wanderer, the vessel of Hurtel of theRed
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=. ee wy Captain Kyd, the King of the | «Ha! ha! ha! and you strung him up to the yard-arm?” 3 eas he fell fighting bravely: fell by my . a no, no! by thy hand ?” * Yes. “But he was a splendid swordsman, and none dared cross blades with him.” j “‘T dared, and I ran him through the heart; but he died hard, as a father should, at the hand of a beloved sun.” The intense bitterness of tone cannot be de- scribed in which the youth spoke, and yet youth no longer, for in one hour he had become as a man of double his years, so deeply into his tone had the iron of anguish entered. And then, through the old ruin rung the wo- man’s mocking laughter, while she danced in very glee at some inborn thought of misery to nacerbe al silently he looked upon her, until at ast he - “‘ Agony to others, is joy to you, woman.” a y you have—” “Call me not Boy; no-lon am I young, for the weight of ages of wretchedness are upon me,” be said sternly. “ T will not contradict you; one who dare not claim his own mother, and sent his father’s soul shrieking to perdition, must needs not feel like ‘a child; but do you tell me the truth? Is Hur- tel of the Red Hand dead?” _ “T have said it, Witch of Hell.” ** And died he by your hand?” “He did.” “Then there is some joy in life after all for Zebel the Witch; aba! now I see why thou wear- est. the garb of thy king, with an officer’s rank on thy shoulders: thou didst get reward for killing thy own father; ha! ha! ha! it is well that King Billy knew not from whose loins thou didst come, or he’d not commissioned in his ag he navy the dishonored brat of a pirate and a y. ‘*Woman, thy insults touch me not, for what- ever thou might say would not be more than the reality of knowing who and what I am; for I do not doubt but you have told the truth.” “Oh! read the truth only to thee; dost doubt it, hast thou ever seen the portrait of Hurtel in Castle Cor?” ‘Yes; but I have also seen Hurtel himself.” “Then hast thou seen thyself: the same dark face, sad eyes and stern mouth; the same tall fo: slender waist and broad shoulders, in which lay a giant’s strength: dost see thy own resemblance, man, to the devil, thy father ?” “‘] do: the peasant boys have often, when I was a little fellow, called me Sir Hurtel, and only last night did the Earl of Belmont tell me I was seme like his brother in appearance,” was the cool reply. “Well, why dost thou not spring from that window in d ” “Why should I?” ** Because of thy dishonored birth, and of thy father’s name.” 5 iat a aa ‘No, I wil) face it.” : “And will you win more honor on King Ly’s ship, ‘ifen thou knowest that—” **No, no! oh God! no!” “Ha! ha! you can yet feel, thou man of iron nerve; but tell me, would you not know of thy mother?” . “* Ay, poor woman, I pity, not condemn her: tell me of my mother, if thou knowest aught regarding her fate.” She is dead.” “Dead! then is she at rest in the grave!” * But she lies not in a grave.” “Dead, and yet not in a grave?’ he asked in an absent-minded way. ae ‘Yes, she was burled into thesea, and by your ather f ‘Hal did he this crime too? But then he was worthy of it, being who he was.” **-You seem not proud of thy father.” ‘Oh yes; no man ever won the name he did, so why not have pride in his name?” ‘True, and no man will ever again be the cruel a he was,” she said impressively. “ Aad Ai monsters in human form, such as he was, are not often found, and well they are not; but tell me, hast thou hopes of Kate of Castile Cor? The man’s head drooped against the stone, and he remained silent; for over him came all that he would lose by being what he was. “Wilt thou ask Lady Kate of Castle Cor, to wed the son of Hurtel the Red Hand?” He turned fiercely toward her, and almost shrieked forth: gt “No, a thousand times, no! from this night I bid farewell to every hope of ambition to every thought of love, and go forth—” “ ere?” “T know not; I care not! only let_me hide myself from honorable men and I will be con- ' tent,” he said bitterly. ; . canst be worthy of thy father, didst ‘*Ha! fiend! temptress! nt! what mean ou?” he cried, again maine, bes with a grasp made her scream out with pain. wee », and I will tell you.” . Me od her, and she said ~ LL ee 2 EIS See eee - ee ** Pollow me!’ Silentl tower. CHAPTER XXIV. THE STRANGE VESSEL. Upon reaching the sea tower, the Witch and the man into whose ears she bad poured such a bitter story of misery, crime and horror, found the stone stairs choked up with the debris of the turrets, which had been shattered by the lightning’s stroke. , But, picking their way up the stairs, over the atoms of stone and dirt, they soon reached the top. The parapet of stone was all gone 6s the sea side, the flooring rent, and other marks were visible of the fearful stroke the storm-clouds had hurled upon the tower, as if in oe of the roe x y and evil scenes enacted within the castle walls, ‘* Why have you brought me here, Zebel?’ “It was a moment before the stroke that I stood here.” ““T saw you, and feared for your life.” “Oh, no, death and I are wide apart, yet; there is more deviltry for my hands to do rrr yp ag for my tongue to give to those I ate. “Then re hate me, Zebel?” ‘ bs a love thee would I tell thee what I ave woman?” “Tt matters not; at least not now; but though I hate thee, I would serve thee.” “A strange paradox; but why brought you me here?” “To serve you, Isay; to show you how you can be worthy of thy red-handed father!” “Tell me and [ll prove me no dull pupil, Zebel, Witch,” he said, bitterly. She had already been glancing earnestly ear her and upon the sea, and suddenly cried: “Ah! ’tis there; now look where I point; what see you creeping close inshore under the shadow of Castle Cor?” ** A vessel!” “ Ay, a vessel it is; and what do you make her out?” He gazed earnestly at the strange sail for a moment, and then said, slowly: : “If I mistake not it is the frigatoon of Hur- tel the Red Hand.” : ‘You have good eyes; it is his lugger; but he commands her not, eh?” “‘T have told you that I killed him, woman,” ‘* Ah! I like to hear the sweet words again.” “ But what does his vessel here?” ‘Where has his vessel a better right to go than to the castle of its master?” af “True; and yonder vessel is coming here?” “She is; she was due last night; for once a Six months she comes into this bay, and— “T am listening.” “And she generally seeks a night of storm, coast, my for there are curious eyes upon ~ “ What comes yonder vessel here for?” **That you will soon know; see, she is stretch- ing across the bay, and is beading for the base of this tower.” “ True.” “Well, wouldst thou know why she comes, I will tell thee that it is to hide her ill-gotten gains in the vaults of this castle; there are vast riches there now, jewels that as the eyes of the sweet lady of Castle Cor; emeralds as blue as the orbs of Lady Grace of Greyhurst Castle; gold as pure as the woman thon dost love; silver from the mines of the Ind, and all gems, gold, silver, stained with blood.” “T do not doubt it,” “The blood of men and of women, ay, and of children,” “ a¢ LEE peng Ar Hurtel of the Red Hand, vie ather no mercy, ¥. Nor aia he.” * And in this old castle he hid his ill-rotten caste? ™ “* And yonder vessel now co Mieot-coceey?” nee ‘Yes; or to take away what is here, divide it among the crew, and seek safety away from the seas, now that the great chief is dead.” te Woul they save their necks they are # But will you allow yourself to be thus rob- ‘What have I to do with the gold, woman?” “You are the son of your father,” she said, “You inherit his crimes, why not his blood- money?” “By Heaven! you reason well.” “Treason justly; claim your gold, ay, and—” 4 ae what more would you tempt me to oO 7 “ : PS nal lugger you have seen sail?” he obeyed, and she Jed him from the | room, along the dark corridor to the sea | “No; but what have I done to wrong thee, | Samteimato ss aes i he ** And ride out a hurricane, which F say hoy over you before she was righted “ ves. “She is stanch?’ ** As a ship of the line.” * Swift?” ** Like the wind.” ‘* Carries a good armament?” “ None better afloat of her tonnage,” ** Anda brave crew?” ** Very devils in action.” “Then you area sailor?” “*T am,” “You will not return to King Billy’s ser- vice?” ‘‘Never again care I to raise my bead among honorable men.” “But among those who are like yourself, dis- honored?” . “They are fit companions.” “Then let them be your comrades; yonder vessel needs a commander.” The intense expression she threw into what she said, made it more forcible than what she uttered, and it struck home where she meant it should, for he clapped his hands together, and cried: * You are right, Witch of Perdition; I should follow in the career of my father: as he fell be~ neath my hand, I am worthy to be such as he was, as 1 slew the commander of yonder pirate craft, it is but just that I should get them an- other—and who better than 1 ?” ‘“No one; go down to the base of this tow there is a secret passage leads from it to a vaul | beneath the main castle; there it is that the | i ee blood stained treasure is hidden. You are fear- less; await the coming of yonder vessel, and act. as circumstances may dictate—come!” . She dragged him, rather than led him, down the debris-covered stairway, and ante the base, she pointed out through the arched door- way, and said: ‘ ‘There comes your vessel; upon her decks it lies with you to make yourself what and whom - you please.” “T will; but tell me, woman, as you know my — so well, what name gave me my pa- ren “ Thy mother named thee; she called thee by a name which, in the Gipsy tongue, signifies base-born.” ‘‘ And-that name is—” “ K. y. dD” o“ es.” “So be it; the whole world shall know the name of Kyd.” There was no reply; no mocking laughter, and turning to where she had stood, he saw that. she was gone. He called to her, but no answer came. He was alone in Castle Death, and there, within a cable’s length, was the lugger of Hur- tel the Red Hand, his father, loo! ike the huge white spirit of a vessel, relieved against the dark waters and darker rocks, CHAPTER XXV. THE DECISION. ‘ ; As the vessel neared the land, it had lowered its large lugger sails, and under only a jib and trysail, or spanker, came slowly toward the rock at the of the sea tower, and which was the. landing of the castle. Standing in the shadow of the tower, he now plainly saw that it was the lugger which, two weeks before, the cruiser had engaged, and re ‘ y, they sa en I was strange e —the—my father, for why den Bim nowf Even ag Defoe spoke of the striking resem- blance,” he muttered, and he watched its ap- proach with interest, hope and despair running riot in his heart, for not himself guilty, he one moment ——_ why should he become so; and then, feeling how base his father had been, he felt that the stain had fallen upon him. As the waves were still rough, the lugger wore round when near the ‘rock, came up into. the wind, and hoisting her mainsail only, lay as still as though she had come to anchor. Upon her decks were crowds of men, and from her trim look it was evident thatshe had repair- ed the damages sustained in her fight with the king’s cruiser. - A moment after a boat was lowered, and into it crowded full a dozen men, who spoke in low tones, and appeared to be anxious not to attract attention, should any be peasant be wandering along cep hw 9 road, - ‘“‘Oh God! have I come to this? To-day life was all that hope could make it: to-night it is as gloomy as this old ruin, and any heart is as Soret by grief and shame as this pile of stone the finger of time, and the shocks of the rm “And shall I link my fate with these men? descend in @ne night from the high pedestal of Ha ae Adega I stood, and sink into the ae But an Inot the fit comrade of these ment +4 they are outcasts, in God’s name what am aml L? xe ‘oT¢ they are branded ¥ ith outl " " y, wh t . : po A
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“*If society turns her back on them, and sets Ghe bloodhounds of justice upon their path, would it take me into its fold? ** Am I not lower than the lowest of them, for was I not born in infamy? * What hope have I to win honor, when I was dishonored at my birth? ‘* By the Cross! I am not even the fit comrade of pirates.” e paced to and fro for an instant; over- whelmed by his bitter thoughts, and then stop- ped suddenly, and exclaimed: ‘Hal can I not live without this stain show- ing a my brow? ‘What if I should win honor, and—no, no, no, that witch of Hades would make known the - fell secret, and then down, down, down into the mire of shame and guilt would I sink,” he cried in im ioned and despairing tones. ** No, like a living serpent in my-heart and brain would be that secret; that vessel comes ech, ee by Fate, to decide my course. “ With it I east my destiny; yesterday a man of honor; to-day a pirate—ay, more than a Sle buried his face in his hands and shook with emotion, for over him swept the remembrance of all be gave up, and fluating before his eyes came the fair form of Kate of Castle Cor, wav- ing him a last farewell, and shutting out from her eyes, as it were, with horror, the man whom she ved, and who had fallen so low. “‘ Let fall!” - The low, stern order reached his ears distinct- ly, and then came the splash of oars in the water. “Give way!” The boat moved slowly toward the stone stair- way of the castle, and the wretched man who ‘watched its mame shrunk further back into the gloom of the tower, his mind made up, come what might, he would cast his lot with the pirate crew, CHAPTER XXVI. AN APPARITION. Wuen the boat touched the stone stairway pe os men sprung out, one of whom turned and uM off a boat’s gt and be ready to come if I call, though I dread no danger, as no one is mele to be near this old castle. When I need you [I will send after you.” “Ay, ey, senor,” answered the boat’s cox- swain, and the order was obeyed, the men rest- ing on their oars near the shore, The one who appeared the leader, and who wore his arm in a silk scarf, as though it was ‘wounded, then called to the two who had ya ashore with him, and taking a ship’s battle lantern from beneath his cloak held it above his head to light the way, and, with a sword in his right hand, moved t gh the arched entrance to the tower. ** You know the spot well, Senor Evan, I sup- pose?” asked one. ‘**'Yes; I have been here half a dozen times ‘with Captain Hurtel,” was the answer. “ Well, it’s a safe pres to hide a treasure, as I'd be afraid of spooks and goblins here in broad me - ill said the third man. - id the castle is haunted, and I do not doubt if; but the treasure here is enough to make me face the devil himself,’ was the re- mark of the leader. ‘‘ And we are to have the jewels, and the crew the gold; that is the ar- rangement, I believe?” “We are to help ourselves to a round fortune in jewels each, and the balance and the gold and silver will be divided on board ship; of course the crew will not know about those we have concealed about our persons.” ‘*True, Evan, very true; we'll take what we want, and then make an equal division of what is left between all hands; but don’t you think you'd have gotten the lion’s share if you had not been afraid to come in here alone?” : ‘What have I to fear, Carl?” ‘Oh, nothing; only this is a place where it is best to have company along, and a good dozen amen in easy call; but what honest fellows we’ll be when we divide spoils and go ashore to spend our hard gem ‘Yes, ’'ll go into business, for I’m tired of throat-cutting, and besides, without the captain the tables would be turned upon us, and I fear our throats would be cut.” “You are right; I never saw such a cowardly set of men since our fight with the cruiger; but which way now, Evan, for I’m anxious to finger that and Fe ashore somewhere as yoann as possible, though I liked the life when peak Hurtel was alive.” This way* come,” and the leader moved on onee more, for the three had stopped within the arched corridor leading under the castle to look at their arms, raise the wicks of their lanterns, and make ready for the work ahead. That all three dreaded entering the vaults of the castle was evident, and only the desire for the vast treasure hidden there could have screwed their « _ up to going, for, once the combat with the cruiser, which lost m their , the crew of the Lugger had been ter- - gibly dem meee and teat, ot Shanes . - walt. hold a council, at which al determined unanimously to lead a different life; and this determination was more readily arriv at, on account of their having no confidence in — lieutenants, one of whom was the leader van, Following the corridor the three men con- tinued their, way, ing beneath the stone pillars that upheld the center of the castle, and presently coming to a small chamber excavated out of the solid rock. : ‘* Here’s the spot, and a Calcutta dungeon is not blacker; now let me see; you hold my lamp, Cari,” and the lieutenant placed his back against the wall and continued: ‘Tt is ten paces straight ahead, and I reach the slab, which, when raised, reveals the vault; hold up your lanterns—there; now here goes— one! two! three! four! five—” ‘** Hold!” ** Holy Virgin! it’s Hurtel’s ghost i The cry broke from the man’s lips in the wild- est terror, and his comrades beholding a tall form in the dim distance, with arms outstretch- ed, dropped their lanterns and cutlasses and bounded away in the wildest alarm. And Evan too would have fled, but his knees faltered, and muttering pater nosters he stood gazing wild-eyed at the aaa which he was firmly convinced was the ghost of his dead captain. What do you here?” demanded the supposed apparition sternly, his voice sounding deep and sepulchral in the vault. ? ‘Good captain, Icame for the treasure, be- lieving you needed it not in the other world; but senor, if was my firm intention to give half of it to the padres, to pray your soul out of purga- tory. Liar, not a farthing would you bave given for the rest of the soul of Hurtel of the Red Hand,” was the stern response. “Well, I he there’s no use lying toa ghost, captain, so I'll make a clean breast of it; except what self, and those two cowardly knaves that fled, stowed away for ballast, we were oing to divide among all of us aboard ship; ut I'll not touch the treasure, Captain Hurtel, if you say Se need it where you’ve gone,” “Fool. [am not Hurtel of the Hand,” and he that has been known as Kenton Cav- anaugh strode forward into the full glare of the lamps. ne Not Hurtel of the Red Hand! then you must be his ghost, for strangely like him you are? ‘‘T am not his ghost, though I made a ghost = hi a twas I that sheathed my sword in his ea . **Sainted Mother! then I’ll soon follow Cap- tain Hurtel; tell them not to cut me down, for I surrender,” cried the man, now fully convinced that he had a ship’s crew to deal with, and that eg were concealed back in the shadows of the vault. ie Srmerd. eos have but me to deal with, man to man; but I want no quarrel with you, for, on the contrary I can serve you.” buccaneer. “T am an adventurer, without name, rank, kindred or friends,” was the bitter reply. ‘“*And yet you are the man who so ne handled Captain Hurtel two weeks ago, for re ize you now; and, by my faith, but you are strangely like him, messmate, though mueh younger. ‘‘T was on the cruiser, and an officer; now I am 0D a : “In faith, I doubt you, and would hate to come to close quarters with you; but tell me, messmate, who are yaar ‘**T am the son of Hurtel of the Red Hand!” “ By St. Barnabas! but you look it; this then is got treasure, your inheritance, and dearly as I love gold, I’m not the man to contest the right of its ownership with you, for I saw you swing a cutlass the other day.” “You, and your crew are welcome to the treasure; go and bring your men here and transfer it to the boat.” ex the Rood! but you are generous, and Tl take you at your word; you are as generous as was your father, messmate: I'll return anon, and bring with me the lads, if they have not read sail on the lugger and put to sea.” ‘*In haste, then! return with them and the treasure is yours, for I want it not.” “Tl obey you, messmate, and with alacrity; but you'll bear me out before the crew that I bravely faced you, even though believing you old Hurtel’s ghost.” “Tl bear you out that you would have fled with your men, had not your coward legs re- fused to support pe weight; but this talk is idle, man; go for those runaways and return at once. There was something in the manner and look of the man, he had so une ly and strange- ly enceuntered, that showed he would stand no urther trifling, and Evan quickly turned, took up one of the fallen lanterns, and departed, the rays of light causing bis shadow on the walls to Were a dancing giant, as , you are generous. ve away your inheritance.” Pash “Ha! it is you, is it, thou imap of perdition? In Satan’s name who are you?” asked the’ Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. SS noes? What care I for gold, when my parents have left me such a rich inheritance of infamy?’ ‘Still moping, Isee; never mind, redden your hands a little with blood and you'll soon get he mind at ease; one murder causes specters be ever before you, and a dozen men’s lives upon ex hands, drives the’ phantoms away; but te me, do you go with that vessel?” *T do. * As what?” “Their chief.” ** Suppose they rebel.” ‘*T will quell rebellion.” “You have nerve, and you will succeed.” “HOE ka nd expac 0 bar gre : £ ht, an e t to hear t things of The hak “You shall not be disappointed. I shall be king of the Black Flag.” ‘Ha! ha! ba! I rejoice to hear you say so, for Tlove to have you commit crime; but d here on this slab with me, for I need a little of this precious dross, and as you are so generous you will not refuse your old Zebel a few guil- “Take what you like,” and at her direction he stepped upon the twelfth slab from the wall, and the eleventh one raised slowly up, like the lid of a chest. Taking up one of the lanterns the Witch held it over the opening, which was about four feet deep and three feet square; a vault in which were bags of gold, boxes of jewels and jewelry, bars of silver, diamond-hilted daggers, swo: gem-studded, and a crucifix of precious metal and rare workmanship. : ‘This is a souvenir those fellows won’t need for they served the Devil, their master,” said the woman, thrusting the crucifix into her bo- ld they will not miss; som. a) “And this bag of what they have never had they will never lose; and now a jewel or two, and I am done, with thanks for your generosity.” She took the things named, and then the slab was lowered into its place once more, The Kyd silently aiding, yet with a look of scorn upon his face. ‘‘Now, farewell, Sir Pirate, for we must Part; but remember, we shall meet again—fare- well!’ He made no reply, and she glided away in the loom, just as the sound of footsteps warned them that Evan and his comrades were return- ing. But ion pirate lieutenant came upon the safe side this time, for the whole of his boat’s crew were at his back, CHAPTER XXVII. THE DIE IS CAST, “* AH, senor, you are there: in faith, I almost expected to find you ing you a ghost,” said Evan, as he came for- ward, while his men stood back, half in gloo and eyed the youth suspicioust , for they not like the surroundings, “Were I to put my grip on you once, sir, you would not doubt my being of the earth; but come, get your treasure, and let us leave this black hole, for the night is wearing on apace.” ‘*T am willing, senor, but do you go with us, as a words t?” “Well, I'll give ou a berth on board the lug- ger, if only for the sake of your old father, while I’ll not forget your generosity.” ‘*T ask favor of no man, sir; take your treas- ure and come, for there are cruisers on this coast that san seek anchorage in the bay, and woe to your lugger then; lend a hand here, men, and bear this trash to your boat,” He sprung upon the slab as he spoke, and the next one to it, as before, rose slowly and reveal- ed the riches in the stone sepulcher. And instinctively the men obeyed, recognizin in the strange man a ruling ag: but Evan, no wishing his authority cast aside, said insolently: “You assume too much authority , Senor, for one who has not the power to back it up.” Instantly Kyd, as I will now call bim, he having buried forever the name of Kenton Cavanaugh in the grave of the past—wheeled upon the outlaw lieutenant, his eyes burning, and said: f “; es the Cross, sirrah, if you dare to dispute my authority, you'll curse the day that you were rm; this treasure was my fathers, Dut I give it to the crew of the lugger, to divided among you; the vessel anu crew were my father’s and I am his heir and woe be to the man that disputes my inheritance; for right soon will I show him that I am indeed the son of my father, Red Hurtel. B and to the boat with this treasure. The men sprung forward to obey, for the felt that. the stood is the a nce vs ae master, van, un i © warping, an believing that. his crew w defend him, out: "To dispute my authority, young sir, is to quarrel with mead 2 punish thy insolence a teleeaal boldly f rward ashe e ste y fo; ; me, a as the words left his lips, and tetra he cul resist, he rye “ was seized in a one, for I was half believ-— Bear a hand here, men, © grasp that was as
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re SP eT ee — - aN Nt aes rea ee «penne Halil lad Te Pa er Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. though iron bands encircled him, and the next instant he was hurled upon the stone flooring with a force that caused every bone in his body to crack. : The men fell back, and stood glancing at Carlo, and the other sub-officer, but they spoke not a word, and once more the ringing order came: “To the lugger with this treasure, or, do you wish me to teach you that I am master here?” It was evident from the hasty way in which they sprung to obey, and bent over into the vault, grabbing at the bags and keys, that they needed no second lesson, while Carlo, as if to hide his shame at allowing a stranger to utterly ignore him, knelt over his superior, as he lay said: “‘ Evan is dead, senor.” “T know it,” was the calm reply, and then through the vaulted chambers rung such a wild, mochin laughter, that every pirate there oowanlit down in dread and began rattling off his prayers, as though he expected his Satanic Majesty to appear before him. **Cowards! it is but an old crazy hag that frightens you,” said Kyd, sternly. “Hat ha! ha! well, boy, you have be well, and proven thyself Sal worthy of thy father: ha! ha! ha! son of Red Hurtel, success attend thee, sorrow and death follow in thy wake.” The mocking laughter, and the strange words came from far back in the gloomy dungeon, and the men needed no second bidding to shoul- der their precious loads, and beat a hasty re- treat. from the dismal fPot without giving a glance at their dead lieutenant. Closely did Kyd follow them, and reaching the stairs he sprung into the stern-sheets, giving his orders in a way that none dare dispute. A few moments more and be was upon. th ‘deck of the lugger, and without opposition he assumed command, the story of the scene in the dungeon in the castle being quickly whispered around, Standing upon the high deck astern, he issued his orders in a way that proved he was a thorough seaman, and, as the boat’s crew had done, the entire lugger’s force recognized his leading ppirit, and sprung to obey his com- mands wi since the death of Red Hurtel. As the ingen forged through the waters, on her way to the sea, the eastern sky was growin y with the approach of cawere te gi ing foamed man, who so fearlessly and so recklessl had forced himself into the position held by his dead father, that father whom he had slain, turned bis burning eyes up to Castle Cor, and like a wail broke from his lips the cry: “Ob, God! when and where will all this end?” But no answer came to his cry, and out upon the blue waters dashed the swift-sailing lugger, while her commander turned his gaze upon the receding shores, just lighting up with the rising sun, and murm $ : < ! the die is cast, and I drift upon the tide of destiny, wherever it may drive me; ay, from this day Lam the Pirate, Kyd.” CHAPTER XXVIIL THE WARNING OF THE WITCH. — WHEN it came to the ears of the Earl of Bel- mont of how his son had behaved toa guest of the eastle, he was very wroth, and regretted having given him a letter to the king, asking for a commission, for he said: “Tf the boy behaves in that manner toward one whom he believes an inferior, he is not fit to assume command of men, good sailor though he may be.” cE. ttied And yet, though angry with Lord Gerald for his unwarrantable conduct toward Kenton Cavanaugh, he was most anxious regarding bis safety, when the storm swept down upon the sea, and he kuew that he must be exposed to it. Having learned of Lord Gerald’s departure from the castle, and to be absent an imited time, Lady Grace, at the entreaties of her cousin, the earl and the conntess, changed her determination of returning to Castlé Greyhurs-, and remained where she was, for most devoi- edly was she attached to the lovely Kate of Belinont. And that night, as the storm-clouds swept down upon the scene, the inmates of the castle in awe watching its ravages, while a shriek went from the lips of the countess, when she saw the lightning stroke descend upon Castle Dea @4 * Alas! Castile has received its death- blow, as did my poor, unfortunate brother,” mm tered the earl. wn about the romise of the Witch, that after sunset. ati had. this an hour before, Cea dienppearance of rar annie ss an alacrity that had not been seen | | for I honor the youth ‘*'The morrow will tell us; but if it killed the old Witch I will not mourn, formy retainersare each day standing more in terror of the hag, and I wish I had some good excuse to rid the country of her.” “Yes, she is one to be dreaded, for I felta chill come over me, when she turned her burn- ing eyes upon me, as we p her the other day while out driving,” said the Countess of Bel- mont with a shudder, “T sent servants to the beach after Cava- naugh, but they reported they could find noth- ing of him; but to-morrow I shall have diligent search made and bring him back to the castle, eatly and the letters he | brought me, speak of the high consideration in prone and motionless upon the stone pave, and | r | wish that Lord Gerald had half the manhood,” which the king and the admiralty hold him; I said the earl, who had became an enthusiastic admirer of the young officer, who had so swiftly ascended the ladder of fame. And all through that long dreary night, while that bitter, fearful story was —. told, and strange scenes transpiring in Castle Death, Kate of Belmont lay tossing meee her pillow, thinking of the one, who, each moment was growing stronger in her love, and about whom she felt such anxiety, for, if the old ruin was terrible in the sunlight, what must it not be in the storm and darkness? Shortly after the break of day the Earl of Belmont ordered his barge, and “to the dismay of the dozen oarsmen, sprung into the stern, and told the helmsman to-head for Castle Crag, for never would he call it by the name supersti- tious fear had fastened upon it. Across the bay rowed the barge, rocking on the waves, not yet run down after the storm, and when he bade the man at the tiller to steer for the castle stairs, it looked for a moment as though there would be a mutiny in that well- trained crew, “Howly St. Patrick! but is it yer swate silf, sir, that manes thim blissid words?” asked the helmsman., : “T do: steer for the castle stairs,” was the stern reply. ss But the Witch, sir; the howly hag o’ Sa- ' “Curse the old hag!” __ **So say I, sir; but she won’t be cursed, but is after cursing; sure, sir, an’ it’s a swate sail along the coast this blissid morn.” “You have my orders, Michael Downie; do you intend to obey?” ’ pis Sry ‘Vis, sir, Pll land you at thim stairs, if the Witch herself stands Rare tv wilecome you; but its damned in Purgathory we'll become next Easter.” “Tl give you gold for your prayers, Michael; so give way with a will, may ed. & “Is not that the fishing skiff of old Dermot lying yonder against the shore?” asked the ear). “It is, sir, and for a fact.” ‘“Go and bring it to the barge, and two of ou come with me,” and the earl sprung re, is sword in hand, and followed by the two trembling oarsmen entered the castle. From chamber to chamber he went until he ' had visited nearly every part of the castle, but no sign of human being did he find, and loud and long did the boatmen shout the name of Kenton PSY “The lightning dealt the sea tower a severe stroke; but it killed no — that is certain, yet where is the youth?” said the earl, in a per- plexed tone. “Tm not afther knowin’, sir; but I’m afther guessin’ the divil has got him afore this, if he came here under the shades o’ night,” remarked Michael. ‘*Some harm has befallen him, I am assured; | return at once to Castle Cor, and take the skiff | in tow.” _ had not used in coming over, With an alacrity and ng gs muscle they @ oarsmen bent to their oars and sent the barge flying over the Water, Yet to the eyes of Kate and Grace who watched its coming, and saw the skiff in its wake, it seemed to eyes berhasttas at peewee see earl at once or- ganized his servants in ua d_sent them forth to search for the lost ine ee. but though he directed the large party to go to Castle Death and search it once more Sen vault to tower, there was not one of those de- tailed for this work that had the remotest idea of going there, and as soon as they were out of sight of Castle Cor they very coolly secreted themselves among the rocks, and went busily to work arranging the lies to tell upon their re- turn, and one and all mentally swearing to throw in gratis a ghost-story, in which he was an actor. ‘ y Having see the search-squads depart, and uttered a prayer for their success, y Kate and her cousin strolled out upon the lawn and into the k, where they seated themselves in to comment again snd ogata upon -- a rustic ar yt Ea : ‘ _-75 ees bdisad eat — a And as they sat there together did not see a human form coming with cat- tread toward them. But suddenly glancing up wif beheld in the rustic doorway the strange, wild eyes of Zebe} the Witch peering in upon them. Both sprung to their feet in an instant, and the face of each paled; but remembering at once that they were in no danger so near the castle, and that the woman must know some- thing of Kenton Cavanaugh, Lady Kate said, ly: 7 h, good mother, have you tidings of my father’s guest, that you come hithyy?’ ‘*And who is thy father’s guest?” she asked in her cold, harsh tones, - “The one who rode with us to thy weird do- main on yesterday; the one with whom t didst make ry gst ng to meet last night,’” eagerly asked Lady Kate. ‘What should I know of the movements of men if they concern me not?” “Then you have not seen him?” “Yes, he had the courage to come to my desolate abode, yonder ruined castle.” * And he went from there?’ ‘‘Yes: he liked not the tale I poured into his ears, and he left me.” “But be has net returned to the castle, and we are alarmed about him,” “Seek him not of me, maiden, for be left as became.” - ‘Not so, woman, for he went in his skiff, and it was found at the castle this morning and Sein back by my father,” said Kate Belmont, haughtily. In spite of her nerve the Witch started, for she bad forgotten about the coming of the youth in his skiff; but she answered with scorn: *“ Does the proud Earl of Belmont so concern himself about a low-born youth, that he dares go to Death Castle to search for him?” ‘“My father dare go anwbere, woman, and his duty to his guest, who left in anger, at an insult offered by my thoughtless brother, caused him to seek Lieutenant Cavanaugh to repair the ge ic 5 “You are sree interested in this low- born youth, Lady te of Castle Cor,” sud- denly said the woman, and the eyes of the maiden flashed as she retorted: “Lady Kate of Castle’ Cor allows no insinua- tions as to her conduct, and do you possess the power sat the Evil One or not, I warn you to eep a more civil tongue.” **My tongue wears no fetters, maiden: it is as: free as my soul.” “Ah, woman, would to God that thou wert different: but ’tis said of thee that thon dost revel in doing evil.” ‘Ha! ba! ha! you are right, Lady Kate of Belmont: to make others suffer is my joy.” ‘* And hast thou made him suffer It was Lady Grace who spoke, and in her quick, earnest way. ‘*'To whom do you refer?” she asked. “If thou hast the power thou claimest, then why should I tell?’ . “True, Lady Grace: you need not tell, for I know that thou referrest to him whom men call Kenton Cavanaugh: ay, did 1 make bim suffer, and as men never suffer but once in a lifetime,. or else madness would seize upon their brain and tear reason from its throne.” ne spoke earnestly, and Kate Belmont cried out: “Woman! woman! what hast thou done te Kenton Cavanaugh?” “Dost thou love him, Kate of Castle Cor? “How dare you ask me that?” eried the maiden, menetey- ‘* Zebel the Witch dare do anything, girl: but: prin Papi 1 ask, for well I know, as I read it in. thy face. ** Ay, thou dost love that brave, bonnie youth: thy beart has no horizon bevand which thy love can eatpeat: but. Hope, the star of thy love, beckons thee to ruin: Hope, the beacon of thy life, glimmers across breakers, hidden from thee now, but upon which thou wilt dash to wreck and ruin. aca “Be warned, and tear out the germ of love, for it is but a serpent that will be nursed to life, and then strike thee with its fatal : be warned, for Love and gold sway the world, girl, but they are twin devils to drag it down to a wel bees € ‘tran earn ful in Heaven’s name! “Strange, fearful woman, it vi net what mean you?” cried Lady Kate, who with Lady Cilia eras ly impressed with the words and manner of the woman. =. — “Tf I have made thee miserable, Kate of Castle Cor, I am content; but let we add one. more brand to the burning—thou wilt never see ithout another word she turned and strode. away, thy with bitter grief in their hearts. » maidens hastened back to the castle, to make mown the dire prophecy of Zebel the. the
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‘ eo Se eee a Se tf a ee a ing a rs ee ee — ——— — ———E 18 Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. At last one of the number awoke, and, ob- serving that the sun was casting long shadows deemed it time to awaken his companions, and warn them that it was time to return and re- port to the earl, not what they had, but what they had not done. “ Arouse ye, my honeys, or ther shadows 0’ night will be afther ovens upon us, and thin look out for Mither Zebel the Witch.” His words brought all upon their feet in a twinkling, and uneasy glances were hastily cast around, for they had been dreaming of the ed old woman. ‘“Will now, mavourneens, it’s a loikely lie we must be afther tilling the masther.” ‘You're right, my darlint; what shall it be?” “Pm afther bein’ spokesman, my darlints, and Pil say to the masther: ‘**Masther dear, we wint to Castle Dith, an’ ‘we wint from ther bottom to ther top, ’ach one of us dividin’ himsilf so as to kape a good é¢ye over iverything; but, masther dear, eee we ‘was not afther diskiverin’ the young gintlemin so foine, we saw the ould beldame of a she- divil, sir, an’ we gave her sich a hot time, thet she runned up to the tall tower an’ jumped clane off, disappearing loike in a flame o’ red smoke.’” “That’s a beautiful lie, it is, Barney, my darlint, but it’s naded it is, an’ may God forgive ~ yer Hs an’ ef He don’t ther praste will.” ’m afther wishin’ we'd hev gone for Father O’Wagerty, and had him with us, and thin the ould Witch would be afther hidin’ her ould white hid in—” “* Who is it you are talking about, fools?” With the stern question there suddenly bound - ed into the midst of the intended circle of shirkers, none other than the very subject of their conversation. But, had it been a bombshell of the present age, dropping among them, it would not the more ec y have scattered them, for in every direction went the frightened Irishmen, not one of them looking out for his fellow-man, but attending strictly to the business of making himself scarce with the utmost dispatch. “Cowardsi hold! or I will lay my curse on ye,” she cried in loud accents, and two of those nearest to her, and who heard the full venom of her words, came to a sudden halt, and with ‘their backs still toward her, but glancing over their shoulders, they stood muttering prayers and crossing themselves fervently. ‘* What do ye here, fools?” “Oh! we was afther stopping a bit, sweet feddy, to hould a consultation.” “Tam Zebel the Witch of Castle Death,” she said in a ringing voice. “Oh faith, and we know thet, Leddy Witch,” answered one of the trembling men. “Then if you do not tell me true, Evil you shall never eschew.” “Oh murther and the Mither o’ Moses! we are did min intoirely, Dinnis.” ‘Vis, Corwin, she'll be afther puttin’ ther spell on us,” cried the other. ; ; **T know your business, fools, so speak out.” * Oh, it’s much that yer know, my jewil.” “You have been to Castle Death in search of the pons fisher lad, who has become a gentle?” “Oh, do you moind that, Dinnis? she knows -where we have been,” evasively said Corwin. “She knows a dale, mavourneen,” uncompro- misingly answered Dennis. She “But you found not the gentle there?” “Do F moind that, how she tills it all, Corwin a! do, mavourneen.” “But you saw strange sights, and heard ‘sounds in the old ruin?” ‘So strange, old mither, that we all crossed oursilyes, belavin’ you to be there.” ‘Liars! you have not been near the castle; -yon thought to deceive me, but you cannot, and woe betide you for the little game,” she said, severely. ‘Och hone, Dinnis, it’s gone we are now in- ‘tirely,” groaned Corwin, crossipg himself vigor- olply ‘all the while. me ‘The Lord’s will be done,” muttered Dennis, | muttering pater nosters. _ “Pye a mind to touch you with my Evil “Wand,” and she held forth the stick menac- ‘ingly, and down upon their knees went bo men, Dennis muttering; : “The rte Cross protict us.” En oying their fright for a moment, the Witch suddenly pointed in the direction of ‘Castle Cor, and, as though she were starting them u m a foot-race, cried in a loud tone; And go they did, for they were off like deers and it did fadeod become a foot-race, with Dennis slightly leading, and Corwin praying to ‘him not to leave him, ‘ ever and ser lane- over ursuit. nd old Zeb rejoicing in the fear of ot ers, | ne Be es te ae ght joyous thing it is to make | stairs, her im, a his : oulder expecting to see the Vitch | \ rae oly What ek fat . : ; a and they tremble and whine like the veriest curs under the master’s lash. ‘By the Cross! I would not be surprised if they ran all the way to Castle Cor.” And the Witch was right, they did; and more, the rest of the party, who had so rapidly dis- persed when surprised by the woman, bad met on the highway shortly after, and were not tar- rying as they journeyed homeward, suddenly discovered Dennis and Corwin coming on like the wind, and,with one accord they bounded for- ward at a pace that was marvelous, for well- fed, lazy loungers about the castle. And if the old Witch could have heard the stories they told about her, she would have be- lieved that she was the Evil One himself. But the champions, in the lying tournament were Dennis and Corwin, as soon as they foun strength and breath enough to talk, CHAPTER XXX. LADY GRACE’S ADVENTURE, Hap Zebel the Witch, who rejoiced in fright- ening superstitious people, and enjoyed the mis- ery of others, known what was transpiring at Cor Castle, she would have been less jubilant as she went toward her weird home, or retreat, and felt ill at ease. 3 But not possessing the powers she laiu claim to, and which, two centuries ago, were firm] believed in, Zebel reached the old ruin, and fol- lowing a habit she never neglected, looked cau- tiously around her, ere she slowly ascended the castle wall, by means of the rough projections of the stones. y At the hight of thirty feet she came to a win- dow, from which the g had pasponred, and into this she passed, and found he inasmall chamber that displayed an air of comfort not expected, when one knew that the castle had been uninhabited for years. It was evidently the room intended for the priest, or father confessor of the castle, when such a luxury was needed by the master, for it opened into what had once been the chapel, but the entire flooring of which had fallen in upon the floor below, leaving no mode of egress, or ingress, except the way by which the woman had come, A rich velvet rug was upon the floor of the little room, a divan that served as a bed, several cooking utensils upon the small hearth, and then a perfect museum of curiosities, from a — n skull to a cimeter of rare workman- ship. ‘taking from a box some edibles, the Witch set about preparing her evening meal, which was of the most frugal kind, and eaten more from necessity, to judge from her manner, than from any pleasure she took in the repast. Seating herself in the window, which was in the wing overlooking the bay and Castle Cor, the lonely and strange woman commenced, as was her custom, to commune with herself aloud. An hour or more she sat thus, and the sun was almost resting upon the horizon, and the evening balmy and delightful, yet exerting no influence over her spirits, which were wild and wayward, Suddenly she started, and bent her head in the attitude of listening, for a strange sound had _| come to her ears, “Burn the accursed hag!” Was it a wonder that even her brave face turned pale at such words? i “ She’s a witch, and should die!” “Burn the old rookery, with her init.” “Death to the. Witch!” ; And similar cries were heard, and the voices grew nearer and nearer until around the wing of the castle, she beheld from her retreat the Earl of Belmont, accompanied by a cavalcade of nobles, and followed by a hundred or more of the peasantry, armed with sticks, muskets and whatever else they could seize for the expedi- tion against Zebel the Witch. | ; There was no mistaking the cries, no mistak- ing the intention of the crowd; they meant death to the weird woman, and déath of the. worst, most horrible kind, for their ions once aroused, she knew that they would burn her at the stake for a witch with the utmost cheerfulness. : The Earl of Belmont and some of the gentry might attempt to send her to prison; but the seeag re would never listen to.reason, now that hey had an opportunity to free the country from one they so greatly feared, and what they would do with her she well knew. With that immense crowd she knew her curses and her pretended charms and incaa- tations would avail no ; and it was no won- creature sunk down Cavanaug’ ' ) ton al 7 3 ds to the two mai- 5 ° ~ a 7” " > sible for the disap- | ¥ dens, and, in fact, worse than all, that the oung man could nowhere be found, was against e r. Into the old ruin spread the crowd, but in all their search they kept in large parties, so great was their terror of the old hag, and at leet sti heard a wild cry from the vaults, where some had penetrated with lanterns. Their shouts and words tokl her what had ey i oer ‘They have found the blood on the pavement from that wretch the boy killed; lucky for me I threw the body into the sea and let the tide carry it off,” she said, in a trembling voice; byt the moment after she cried, as other words reached her: : ““No, no, it was wrong in me to throw the body into the sea, for now they would little be- lieve my story of the pirate vessel being here, and that he went with it. Bah! they would not believe me anyhow,” and again she sunk down by the window and listened. Around the castle had been stationed’a cordon of sentinels, those of the crowd who had been armed with muskets, and she knew that escape was impossible, so must rely upon the of her chamber, whose presence no one would suspect, believing that the chapel, the floorin of which had fallen in, oecupied the whole o that wing. As the sun went down and the shadows in- creased, even the nobles accompanying the Earl of Belmont huddled more closely together, and the servants in a compact mass together, those on the outer edge of the crowd envying those who were in the center. At last Zebel distinctly heard the words of the earl: ‘“* We will return now; but in the morning we will come back, and the old Witch shall be found if we take the castle down rock by rock.” A wild cheer greeted the earl’s words, and then they all moved away, at first slowly, but rear wished to got in front, and thoge in ad- vance cared not to get behind. With baw joy old Zebel watched them de- art, and then said savagely: ‘‘ Ay, depart, ye aves of Satan, with my curse, and it will be a a day for you when you ‘burn Zebel the itch,” and she shook her hand menacingly at the departing crowd, now hidden by the gloom, Quietly she set about preparations for taking her departure, for she knew to remain there was certain death, and go she must; but re? ‘* Homeless, kindredless, hunted down Gnd a witch, oh! where can I go?” broke from her pal- lid lips in pitiful ery. - Suddenly she started, and stood trembling in fear, as she had made many another tremble. “ Zebel !? The name was called out in clear, ringing. tones, ni she made no answer, e ‘“Great God! can it be an angel?” and drop ping upon her knees, she drew out the gold cru- cifix she still carried in her bosom, and began to kiss it wildly, and do what she had not done for years—pray. ; **Zebel! it is I—Lady Grace.” Instantly the woman was herself again, and looking from the window beheld a horsewoman, and alone. ss Why have you come here, girl?” she asked y: “To save you, for to: morrow the people will surely burn you at the stake,” answered Lady Grace with pity in her tones. ** And how does the fate of Zebel the Witch affect Lady Grace of Greyhurst Castle?’ scorn- fully asked the woman. “Years ago, when a little child, you passed by Glenshield Castle, where I was visiting, and you came to the rescue of my little brother and myself, who had upset our boat in the cove and were drowning.” ‘“‘Ha! I remember! and you are that little gi] ! saved, for the boy drowned?” eagerly sail e .2 “Yes, you saved my life, but my poor little brother went down before my eyes; often have I wished to repay that debt, but only yesterday did I know who tt was that I owed my life to, for you disappeared just after the accident.” ‘*"And how do you know now that I was the one?” ‘Yours is not a face to forget when once ” = “And you would save me now?” * Yes; you can di yourself in this cloth- oo, a have brought you, and come on to the arbor where you saw Lady Kate and myself to-day; there Il find this horse; he is mine, so take and seek safety in flight, for by daybreak he will carry you far, far from here tor he is as fleet as the wind and as lasting as a hound. For a moment the woman hesitated, for she deemed it a trap to insnare her; but banishing the thought, when she remembered that Lady Grace came alone, and b “—— and she did really owe her her life, she descended the rough wall of the castle and hed her. “Lady Grace of Greybur Witch that the world is ° ae **%, a area noble — wholly a. oe : y oe x oS re . i. Z 2M om ie ee vA aA « Re ‘4 “ze, A. 1 aes. & : ¢ a - a a’, ny < P * , we = a ee _ - &
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Captain Kya, the King “‘T have but done my duty; but I beg you to tell me one thing.” | “Name it.” ‘* Have you harmed Lieutenant Cavanaugh?’ The old spirit of the woman broke out at the question, and she said sneeringly: “ Lieutenant Cavamaugh;” but changing her mood instantly, she continued: ‘‘ Harmed him bodily I have not; harmed him in heart and brain I have; but now I will tell | ou nothing, yet, within the arbor, where you | eave this horse, you will find a bit of paper, and | it will tell you the fate of the man you seek knowledge of, and it will be the truth.” “T thank you, Zebel; and he is not. dead?” eagarly said the maiden. ** He is not dead.” — ; ‘Tt is well; here is the bundle of clothing. and this horse you will find at the arbor; and if need not tell you that any moment lost is fatal ‘to you, for the peasantry are rising to-night on all sides, and to-morrow, if taken, no power can gave you from the stake.” _-**] know it well; and that I am not burned to ‘you will I-owe it; but I will not say that I will prey for you, maiden, for my prayers would Il as curses; [I will not say bless you, for that would pan you ill-fortune; yet I will tell you, y that the on ‘Witch has been made to feel that she had a heart. is this night, and you have touched it— farewell.” She turned away, but Lady Grace recalled z “Stay, here is a purse of gold for you.” - “Girl, I need no gold; I have jewels that ‘would ransom a prince, and gold sufficient.” ‘Then farewell, and may your life be differ- ent, Zebel; remember, I shall look for the paper in the arbor.” ee pounder sg y wav hand, turned her horse, and away bounded the splendid animal, his rapid hoof-strokes causing the lowly dwellers iv the roadside houses to believe that Sir Hurtel’s ghost was abroad on one of the mad rides of long years before. But without attracting attention, Lady Grace, who bad secretly taken her horse from the stable, dismounted at the rustic arbor, secured the animal, and entered the castle unseen, and with her daring night adventure unknown. But all through the night she was most rest- less and —— with the sun sought the arbor in the castle park. : \ The steed was gone, and upon the wall, pin- ned there with a sharpened peg of wood, wasthe> promised paper. In her trem!\ing hands she grasped it, and time in long years that Zebel the ‘‘Him whom thou wouldst know the fate of, has cast honor to the dogs, and the black flag to the breeze. Beware of him!” ‘* What can she mean? No, no, no! for Kenton Cavanaugh could never pirate,-no! nol be could never become the guilty thing she would make him,” and burying er face in her hands, Lady Grace burst into ' tears. _fested with adecions Tanestcers, CHAPTER XXXI. 2 THE CRUISER AND THE PIRATE. Just prior to the close of the seventeenth eentury, the king may the Earl of Belmont Governor of the then Province of New York, with his head-quarters at New Amsterdam, now the great American metropolis, but, two centuries ago, a town not larger a score of its massive squares of to-day. As the coast of America at that time was in- i whose voy- ages extended from e to the Carolinas, the earl was ordered by the king to fit out a swift- sailing yacht to carry him across the ocean, and which also might be used in the Colonial waters asa cruiser against the ruthless pirates. But in those days delays were many, advan- tages for building v were not what they are now, and it was two years after his appoint- ment as ern before the Earl of Belmont set sail for the New World. And in that time the seas had been the scene of many a daring attack, upon even armed ves- sels, by the free rovers, and the navies of Spain and England were kept busy hunting down the merciless corsairs, that flaunted their sable flag with reckless impunity. . ly had the. voles begun over the death of the far-famed Hu of tne Red Hand, before another chieftain sprung suddenly into existence and spread terror along the whole a coast, defying the cruisers sent su Lord ares in pur- of him. And he was known as The ‘Rud. Finding the work laid out for him by Zebel, the Witch of Death ae ey accomplished, Gerald ‘of Castle Cor cruised about under eral commission to drive piracy from the seas, and paring a several captures of ts, received the personal thanks of sin i : in his own tion, aoe on ce terro’ = : Ee the outlaw Spend the Snes eee ete met wey Setting sall in the really t . itis R ih false, (exe ty leagues from Castle Cor, he took the oppor- tunity to tow his prize into the bay that his father might see what a daring son he had, and also to use this, his first exploit, as a means of winning back the love of his cousin, Grace, of Greyburst Castle. Saluting the castle with his guns, the earl in turn saluted with the small battery mounted upon the battlement, and dipped the Belmont flag in honor of the coming hero, while even Lady Grace forgave the past and welcomed the wanderer home again, But the haughty Lord Gerald had another mo- tive in visiting the little castle-guarded bay, and that was to see the Witch of Castle Death and make known to her that Hurtelof the Red Hand was. no more. Though he kuew that the death of that famous pirate must needs be stale news by the time he reached Castle Cor, he wished to prove to ber that his intention to hunt Gaown the real heir to the earldom had proven good, not that he cared what the Witch might think om the subject, but he had laid a plan to en- trap her, and, once in his power at sea, her life was to be the forfeit of the secret she held, and thus two; who might come between him and the inheritance of a proud title and vast estates, would be beyond giving him trouble. The Witch disposed of, the old nurse, who also had the secret locked in her bosom, would be the next victim, and then Lord Gerald would feel secure. It was therefore with a dread of evil that the young officer heard that the Witch had not been seen since’ the eiyeerions disappearance and supposed death of Kenton Cavanaugh. e hoped, with many others, that she was dead, for all that was inflammable in Castile Death had been set on fire by the witch-hunters, and only the stone walls and towers remained, blackened with smoke, yet still grand in their rain, — True, the steed of Lady Grace had been missed from the Castle Cor stables, but that was set down to some thieving peasant, for that dis- creet maiden shed no light upon the subject, and kept her own secret with a tenacity, that, in a woman, was sub lime. . Being disappointed in really the main obj that had bronget him into the bay, and failing in his desire to win back the haughty Lady Grace to her engagement with him, Lord Ger- ald set sail with bis prize in no very amiable humor, for a hero, either with. or the world at large. : : Determined to win a name that would yet make the haughty maiden look kindly on him he scoured the seas in quest of foes, and, as have made known, made several captures of pirate crafts, the crews of which were prompiy oe eae up to the yard-arm, a proceeding w uickly gained for him a fame that caused the ree rovers to fly from his well-known er ! Thus a year and a half passed away, and the earl and his family, were daily expecting the arrival in the bay, of the beautiful armed yacht that was to carry them to America, and over which, a young and distinguished officer pees colonien hag Ten Pe tab in th t as. - [ were said in the grand assembly room of the castle, one beautiful nae pag, ie night, the deep boom of a heavy gun made the windows rattle and caused a flutter of intense excitement. ‘‘Tt is the yacht, and that is her salute,” cried the earl, and, as he spoke there burst forth a ter- rible discharge of artillery, which caused him to exclaim: ; “No; that is not a salute, but a broadside; hark! it is a combat—come!” 5p The countess and the two maidens quickly followed him to the outer terrace, where already the servants had assembled in alarm, and there not a league away they descried two vessels, slowly approaching each other, and firing rapia- ly, the one upon the other. “Yes, itis a combat; and, b hat Gerald's cruiser; bravo ! e servants took up the enthusiasm and three hearty cheers were given for the young noble, while every eye was eagerly strained upon the a which each wapiieee became hotter and ercer. : ‘Lord Gerald has run his foe down upon the coast, to give us the spectacle of a naval en- gagement,” said the ear enthusiastically. “God grant his life be spared,” cried the countess, eagerly. : : : *‘ Ay, God grant it, wife; but our brave sailors and soldiers must take the chances of life and death; ha! that was a good broadside, my boy! afew more like that, and— Good God! A I be- lieve my own sight?” “Yes, father, Gerald’s vessel is flying,” said Lady Kate, while Lady Grace replied, and with scorn in her voice: aie ‘“* His vessel is the larger of the two; he surely cannot be running from a foe thet tae alae to: destroy.” he the Cross! it is bravo for the sues him Gerald! pour our hot ' a ly your guns, Lord shot! and the earl was wild with But lard ow the Mags erie, fa _ of the Black Flag. aL Bas ing to find excuse for his lack “But he is, by our Lady! ha! how that devil | | 19 a haven in the bay, and astern, under clouds of canvas, and gaining rapidly, came the enemy, whatever he might be, while both vessels were keeping up a hot fire, the one from his bow, the other from his stern guns. ‘‘She gains rapidly on the cruiser, and—did you see her flag then?” and the voice cf tho earl dropped almost to a whisper, and still greater pallor crept over every face, fur the wind com- ing from ahead, flaunted the ensign out flat, and the flashes of the gun now showed it to be the black flag of a pirate. With eager eyes and bated breath, all on the terrace stood watching the running fight, and a chill of horror went to every heart, when they beheld the pirate craft. lay the cruiser aboard, and heard the wild yells of the bucca- neers as they sprung upon the decks, and the rattle of small-arms and clash of steel against steel. But then, above the din of carnage arose a ringing voice: ‘* Cease firing, all!” Instantly the silence of death followed. ‘““What could it mean?’ the pirates asked each other. “What could it mean?’ the crew of the cruiser questioned among themselves. ‘“* What did it mean?’ was the query of the earl and all on the battlement of Castle Cor, The answer’came soon, and in the same ring- ing tones: ‘** Back to your schooner, buccaneers! this is not the vessel I seek,” And back to their decks clambered the pi- rates; their vessel swung away from the prize hey bad really taken, and away under clouds of snowy duck stood the mysterious craft, to the joy of the cruiser’s men, and the astonish- ment of all who saw the strange act, And into the bay put the cruiser, dropping her anchor close inshore. A few moments af- ter Lord Gerald, flushed with the heat of bat-- tle, and excited over what had occurred, came up to the castle, In an embarrassed way ee received the wel- come extended to him, but as to the strange conduct of his victor could offer no explanation whatever; yet said: ** Re ing, when we drew nearer, who was my foe, I knew that it was madness to fight, though in men and guns I outnumbered him; hence I sought safety in flight.” “We saw that. and wondered why a stronger vessel should fly from a weaker one,” said Lady Brees with a slight sneer upon her pretty mouth, ‘** The reason &, that yonder is the craft of The Kyd, my severe cousin of Greyhurst.” “What! that merciless and red-handed devil, who has gained the title of King of the Black Flag?” cried the earl. “The same, sir; he has defeated cruisers twice his strength, and seems to combat and kill for the simple love of imbruing his hands ir blood.” “It is said that he has never been beater off by an enemy, and, if he cannot with his guns make a vessel strike her flag to bim, he will run down and board her, and then the scene that follows is awful, and beggars de- scription,” remarked the earl. “Do you wonder then, sir, that I did not wish to meet him?” asked the young noble, hop- of courage. Ido, of course, Lord Gerald, for Pan understand a naval officer shunning a conflict where the chances are equal even against him, and yet your own admission proves you were the strenver; but may I ask, why The Kyd so kindly sphred your vessel and yourcrew? Was it because he found a foe unworthy of his steel?” - Lord Gerald winced noticeably under this hot shot turned upon him by Lady Grace; but re- plied quietly: i ‘‘T know not; my men were crying for quar- ter, when he suddenly advanced upon me, and I prepared to meet him: but he me ge short, turned away, and then gave orcer to cease firing, and five minutes after he sailed through fear,” was the reply of Lady Grace, as she said good-night and left the recm, a strange expression upon ber beautiful face, and one young officer neither understood nor liked. Once in her own chamber she glanced out of the window and gazed upon the white sails of the flying pirate and murmured: “ After all, can Zebel ao have been has the name of The Kyd; and if he be, it Mec Lae fas tothe bgdoas hie degite c) keep locked up in my own heart, CHAPTER XXXII, A MAIDEN’S WHIM. ie WuHeETuEr it was that Lo’ =e Wea > re “Pll wager my inheritance that i wasn’t
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20 Captain not known; but certain it is he resigned his com- mission, and, shortly after his engagement on the Irish eoast, returned to his home to settle down tothe-life of a country gentleman, and hold full ewer for his Ap shee accompanied by his sister and Lady Grace, sailed for the New World secon after his arrival, in the beautiful and fleet yacht Bloodhound, which the earl had had built for special service on the American coast, and armed and equipped to perfection. A stanch craft, heavily armed, well manned, and with princely accommodations, the little party anticipated a pleasant voyage across the ocean, for, as her commander, Clement St. Vane, a handsome, dashing young officer of twenty-seven, said: : “What we cannot whip, my lord, we can run away from, so that is a consolation.” Several weeks had away since they bade farewell to Erin’s green shores, and no in- cident of mark had eon poh and the Ear] of Belmont was congratulating himself that the swift yacht would reach its destination without a chase or acombat, when, from the masthead an the always startling cry: ‘Sail, ho!” The Earl of Belmont, the countess and the two maidens were on the deck, and all looked anx- iously for the stranger, for they were not very far the coast of America, and were more wars 2 een a buecaneer than an honest craft. ‘““‘What do you make her out?” called out Captain St. Vane to the man at the masthead. “She is one of those American-built schoon- ers, sir, and is dead ahead and coming toward us with a nimble foot.” The stranger was soon visible from the deck, and as she raised to her hull, Captain St. Vane hailed the masthead: ** Ho! aloft!” hy ay ay, sir.” “What do you make of her now, my man?” “A schooner of three hundred tons, and heavily armed; I can see her decks plainly, and they are crowded with men.” ‘“A pirate, Pll wager,” said Captain St. Vane ina low tone, while Lady Grace, who acci- dentally overheard the remark, turned deadly pale, seeing which he continued; ‘Do not dread danger, Lady Grace, for this craft has a pair of heels she can throw in the face of any buccaneer that floats, and if she could not, we have a crew who can give an account of themselves in action, either at the guns or close quarters.” “Su it be The Kyd ?” answered Lady Grace significantly. a “Ah! I have longed to meet that King of the Black Flag, and ere longI shall do so, for this vessel was built, y Grace, armed and manned to cruise more especially against that noted pirate, the earl informs me.” “Then your wish will be realized, Captain St. Vane, for ee schooner flies the flag of The Kyd,” said the maiden, firmly. ‘“Why, Lady Grace, how is it that your eyes can detect what that vessel is?’ asked the cap- tain in surprise. “T live on the coast, sir, and know well the rig of vessels, and one such as that is I never saw but once before, and that was in action, and by moonlight; Ph T recognize the craft known as the Galley Slave.” Hardly had she ceased king when an old seaman approached, and saluting politely, said: 6 ‘ain, I has seen yonder craft twice afore; I was on Lord Gerald’s critisér, as fought her near Castle Cor, and it are the Galley Slave o’ that murdering pirate Captain Kyd.” “ All right, my man,” and Clement St. Vane turned to the maiden. ‘‘Lady Grace, you are doubtless right, for the craft has a suspicious look, and I'll see what his intentions are,” and he gave an order to change the course of the yacht about half a dozen a. But instantly the schooncr changed with her so as to head ber off. “ Aha! he means to get a closer look at us; let her fall off until she a free sheet, quarter- master,” said the young officer, and the order being obeyed, the stranger instantly followed suit, and yet held on so as to head the yacht off at a given er if if neither changed its course, But, as the schooner fell off too, a ery arose from the decks of the yacht: ; “ Phe Black Flag !” The men, at this ery, went silently to the guns, and in an instant all was earnest prepa- ration for action. . “What mean these warlike movements, St. Vane?’ asked the Earl of Belmont, earnestly. “ Yonder vessel is a pirate, sir,” was the quiet answer. “But you have no idea of engaging her?” % re: ORES Se A Kyd, the King of the Bl The yacht was now bowling swiftly along under pressure of a six-knot breeze, but it was plain that the schooner was outsailing her. ‘“‘Crowd on canvas, Mr. Kent, for we must drop that ugly customer,” said Captain St. Vane | to his lieutenant. “‘TItis The Kyd, sir.” “True, and therefore, that much more reason we should fly.” “We look to have the heavier metal, sir, and doubtless the larger crew, and could—” “T must be obeyed, Mr. Kent, for there is freight on this yacht that must never be risked in action.” “* Ab! I beg rdon, Captain St. Vane; I had forgotten the ladies,” and the officer went for- ward to give the necessary orders, and soon, under her increased sail, the fleet vessel was making ten knots out of a breeze that was about seven. But the schooner also set more canvas, and still not only held her own, but gained. ‘What the matter, St. Vane, for yonder schooner is sailing faster than we are?’ asked the earl, anxiously. “T do not know, my lord, for we are doing our best, unless—” ** Unless what, sir?’ “We put about and run into the wind’s eye; that is the yacht’s best point of sailing, and I’ve et to see a craft that cannot be left astern by er,” “Then try her at that; for that fellow will soon use his guns and should he cripple you, there can be but one alternative, and that I wish toavoid.” “As I do,my lord, under present circum- stances,” answered the captain, and his ringing orders sent the crew to their posts; the sharp bows swept around; the sails were trimmed close, and Jay as flat and bard as boards, and away dashed the pretty craft, laying well over and leaving a foaming wake astern. But, as though on a pivot, the schooner also swept round, and it took but a few minutes to prove that she was getting more knots to the hour out of the breeze blowing, than was the yacht. “Well, my lord, our yacht has met her mateb.” “Her superior, it seems, Captain St. Vane, but God grant he is our superior only in sailing, for it has got to come to an action, I fear,” an- swered the earl, sadly. And each moment but increased this opinion, for steadily the schooner gained, although the yacht had every foot of canvas spread that would draw. Anxiously all on the king’s cruiser watched the vessel creeping upon them, until at last Clement St. Vane called out: * Clear for action!” Hardiy had tbe words left his lips, when a por of smoke burst from the schooner’s sharp ws, and a shot flew over the deck of the acht. J “Show Og 2 colors, Mr, Kent, and if that don’t sati “4 him we'll make the British Lion wl,” said Clement St. Vane, and the ensign of reat Britain arose to the yacht’s : buta moment after a shot from the schooner cut through it, reins a wide rent in the bunting. “ He’s a crack shot, my lord, and I think we’d better put about and meet him half-way,” said the captain, eager for the fray, now that he saw that it must come. “What, Grace, you on deck?” and the earl turned in rise upon his niece, as she came forward, a roll of silk in her hand, while she said pleasantly: “TI have come to ask Captain St. Vane to humor me in a whim.” ‘This is no time, dear niece, to—” “Tt is just the time, dear uncle: Captain St. Vane; will you haul down your ensign and raise this to the peak, at the same time changing the course of your vessel so as to let the pirate recog- nize what it is?” aes captain looked mystified, while the ear oe all that is holy, Grace, what do you mean?’ : “ Just what I said, uncle Belmont: for this flag to be raised at the peak.” It is my own flag of Castle Cor, and the Belmont arms.” ‘*T know it, uncle: ah! there is another shot and—well aimed,” she coolly added, as it went through the mizzen-sail, Seeing by the manner of the maiden that she had some reason for the stran request, the oung ca took the roll of silk, hauled down he British colors, and attaching the other to the halyards, hauled it to the peak. e effect was magical; ere the flag of Castle Cor had fluttered half a minute to the breeze, the schooner wore around quickly and sped away before the wind like a frightened bird, while the earl, the yacht’s officers, and the crew stared in amazement at the maiden, and then at the flying pirate craft. ‘Grace, in God’s name, what does this mean?” asked the astonished and delighted earl. ‘ It ne X cle, crew, down to we: a ack Flag. “Tf yonder is another enemy, may he feel the same terror,” and the Ear! of Imont pointed to another sail directly in their course, CHAPTER XXXII, THE CAPTAIN’S STORY. THE strange sail seen by the Earl of Belmont, and which in the excitement of the schooner’s chase had been unnoticed, came fleetly alon, and was discovered soon to be an English vesse “ — and one of the coast guard to New York. arbor. Turning to the Earl of Belmont, Captain St. Vare said: pe My lord, I have a great favor to ask of ou, ‘* Name it, my dear captain.” “Yonder schooner is the Galley Slave, Kyd’s vessel, and I may never have a better opportu- nity than the present of engaging him, and I would request that yourself and family board the cruiser, and have her ou into New York harbor, while I give chase to the pirate.” “P faith Dildo it, St. Vane, for it would be a feather in your cap to take the famous rover, who of late, it seems, is devoting his attention to the American coast; anda good offset for me in the beginning of 5! gubernatorial duties,” and while Captain St. Vane signaled the cruiser, the earl informed the ladies of his intention, and, strange to say, was met with opposition by Lady Grace; but seeing that her veal insantices was misunderstood, as dread for the safety of the yacht’s handsome and gallant young cap- tain, she said no more, and in an hours time the transfer had been made to the larger and clumsy cruiser, of the earl’s family, servants an e, With ae. for success from all, and an additional score of men from ‘the cruiser, Cap- tain St. Vane stood away for the schooner, which was a little more than two leagues away, and, under easy sail continuing on ihe course: ei had been #nce 80 suddenly giving up the chase. Crowding on sail, until she looked like a mass of white clouds skimming over the sea, the yacht went on in hot pursuit; but almost in- stantly sail after sail was spread on the sehoon- er, and when night shut the two vessels out from the sight of those on the craiser, who watched the chase so anxiously, it was evident that the pirate was gaining upon the king’s cutter. : y _ And with the darkness came on a galé, which increased in violence until the cruiser was com- pelled to send before it for safety, and thus go many miles off her direct course into New York harbor. But, with the morning the storm broke away,,. and though the wind blew fresh, the sea was no longer lashed into a foaming caldron, and once wore the cruiser headed for “Come, ladies, all,” cried the blunt old ca tain of the cruiser, ‘‘ we'll sight the Highlands of Neversink about sunset, and you'll get a limpse of the New World for the first time; ats the Old World, I assure you, and will one day be the greatest country on the globe.” he remark of the cruiser’s captain brought even the countess on deck, and’ one and all of the passengers were not sorry that they would soon be safe on terra firma, and walked the deck with real enjoyment of the balmy after- noon, though of course all felt an anxiety about Capt.’s St. Vane, having met the pirate schooner in action. ‘‘He’ll never catch Kyd, if he once runs from him, ladies, for itis either run, or fight with that pirate; and if he makes up his mind which todo, he sticks to it,” volunteered the captain, — had risen from the forecastle to the quarter- eck, ‘*T thought he preferred fighting to running, Captain Dent,” said the countess. ~ ‘ ‘“* He does, my lady, and those who have once tackled him, prefer fighting to running next. time they met him: but why be ran from your cutter I cannot understand, as I’d hardly ex- pect him to steer clear of me even although I carry two guns to his one and half again as many men.’ ‘“‘And is he the red-handed wretch they say he is?” asked Lady Kate. ‘People lie a’ irates as well as about éhurch people, lady; but 1’ll answer you as I knew him, and it was about a year ago that L formed his acquaintance, and when he sailed a lugger that wasnd’t a beauty, but was awful = eben come Sy was the same craft at bloody devil—be & your pardon, ladies. —old Hurtel of the Hed Hand pel tes but it. may or may not be. 3 “But, as I was saying, I met him once, and I’ve come to remember it, for the schooner he is in now he got mit 5 - s e craft was built for a present to King William the Third, from the merchants of ‘ie ton, and was made as complete as vessel could be, and I was second officer, and Captain Lar- , my lord, we sailed kin her commander. ‘Well, ladies, and out of Boston witha we board, and the craft was the idol of all, the 1 a ae 7a
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R ' “just took the Captain Kyd, the King of the Bl NOT EES swe headed across the sea with our pretty play- = good King Billy. ‘* We went along well the first day out, but just before dark we sighted a queer-looking craft, that some of the lads forward said was the lugger of Captain Kyd. “Now we all wanted todo a big thing, and that was, carry to the king his beautiful vessel along with the anna Kyd to hang, and we put about for the lugger, and when in range we opened, and then we kept it up. ‘* Bat bless your soul, ladies, and you, my lord, the pirate didn’t return a shot, but came right down to grapple with us, not caring anything, so it seemed, about the iron hail we were pouring upon. him. “The wind was light, but became on swiftly, his large lugger sails cut up terribly by our shot, and we could see the splnters dy when we struck his masts and bulwarks, and sometimes half a dozen men would go down together in a hb oe But it mattered not to that murderous crew, for they never flinched, and I soon saw the reason, for they had a chief who didn’t believe in dodging. “There he stood by the helm, cool as you please, and as handsome asa portrait, and he ept his home eye on the crew, and the weather one On us, ‘‘Our captain told the men to: kill him, but it didn’t somer e0ed, for he kept his place, and in the hottest fire calmly raised his glass and look- ed at us, while 1, looking at him, actually saw JAhim smile as sweet asa lady, toa young man who stood near him, and to whom he spoke.” ‘“* Was The Kyd a young man?” asked Lady Grace, quietly. “He was indeed, and the handsomest man I ever saw, lady; but to go on with my story: he ger’s helm himself, and, though we poured in a ble fire that made his vessel ~reel fearfully, he laid it alongside of us as skill- ‘fully as though it were a pleasure craft, and ‘then over the sides he came, followed by his -demoniacal crew. “Well, ladies, our captain was killed, and about one-half of our crew went down, and then the lads cried for quarter, for they didn’t be- lieve they were fighting human beings, so ter- ribly did the pirates fight. “Now, ladies, I’m a good swordsman myself though I Say it as shouldn’t, and I crosse blades with The Kyd, who came at me smiling; and such a smile! I never saw. one like it before | or since, for it was worse than a frown, I can tell you. : ‘‘ Our blades crossed, and I haven’t seen mine since, for it went thirty feet away into the ye — I cited gaara r, though I didn’t ex = et. it; id, and turning around he called out to his lieutenant: A ¢ Call off the hounds, Valdez; the schooner’s amine, ‘‘ And so it was, and a pretty property he had, ‘too. - ; “Who commanded this schooner? he again called-out. ’ ‘*T had that honor after my captain’s death,’ I answered. ** Well, sir, I heard of your beautiful vessel and it does credit to her builders; but I need. her more than does King William, and shall take her; but should he desire her very much, he'll have to come and fight for her.’ ‘*T then knew why he hadn’t fired on the craft —he didn't want to hurt her, so carried us by boarding.” _ And did he treat you with cruelty, Captain Dent?” asked Lady Grace. “Bless you, no, lady; he had our wounded looked after, sent them on board. the lugger, which was leaking bad)y, and told me to head for the nearest port, which I did; but the craft sunk off shore a league, and we had to take to the boats.” ‘*] heard of the affair; and, if St. Vane can re the schooner for the king, he’ll be knight- Si dent sd sng @ won’t de it, my lo; he’s got the nerve to do it, and I oo > “ Whereas lad?” cried th tai wa cr. e captain, * Dead ahead, sir.” “3 All saw the distant sail, and when it rose higher above the horizon, Captain Dent hailed tha foretop: ad t do you make her, lad?” : All waited anxiously, and then came the an- swer: ‘It is the Galley Slave, sir.” “The very craft we spoke of; he has doubled on us during the blow,” said the captain, while the ear! asked anxiously : “ Can there be no mistake, sir?” The old seaman leveled his glass, and after a moment said slowly: . “We wero driven off our course; he headed back for New York, and has either run away CHAPTER XXXIV. THE COMBAT. Hap any one doubted the belief of the cruis- er’s captain regarding the character of the strange sail, a glance at the crew would have confirmed the idea of their commander, for many of them had been with him when Kyd had wrested from him the beautiful cutter. ‘There is no use running, my lord, from yon- der craft, as you on the yacht found out; and es- pecially with this old lubberly craft, that is only good to give and receive hard knocks,” said the captain. “All right; if we must fight we must, so there is an end of it; but I would it were under differ- ent circumstances,” replied the earl, sadly. “Yes, that is the schooner, uncle, so 1 may as well ask«the captain to do what was done on the yacht,” said Lady Grace, approaching the spot where the two stood. ‘And that is, fair lady—?’ asked the captain. “To haul down the British ensign and run up the Castle Cor flag.” ‘Hal Ihad forgotten that ruse and whim of yours, Grace; bring up the tolors, niece,” said the earl, feeling once more a great weight re- moved from his mind. ; The maiden descended into the cabin, but soon returned with a serious look upon her face, while she said: ‘ ‘‘Uncle, the roll of Castle Cor flags were left upon the yacht.” ‘“‘Too bad! too bad! Well, Captain Dent, what is to be dune?” “Fight it out, my lord; [hate to fire on that pretty schooner, for if I could retake her, I'd i have the honor of taking her over to King illy; but then I'll blow her out of the water, before that pack of fiends shall ever spring up- on my deck again. ‘And I'll aid you, captain, for I have not forgotten my early training in the army,” re- plied the earl. In the meantime the schooner had drawn much nearer, and was now plainly visible in the moonlight, and not a mile distant. “Til keep right on my course, my lord, and woe be to him if he attacks this old ironsides with that pretty plasibing. though I must ad- mit she is as stanch as a line-of-battle ship.” The crew were then sent to quarters, the shot- stands placed near the guns, and filled, and the masts peneircied by bristling cutlasses and board- ing-pikes. . g ow, ladies, dear, you will haye to go into the cabin, and lay low on tbe floor, for this will be no child’s play, even if we do outnumber and outweigh yonder fellow,” said Captain Dent, and reluctantly the countess and the two maid- ens went into the cabin, for they could not fe- main to see those they loved and respected ex- posed to such fearful danger. a ie rr son, ca) , to power he holds 6ver his fellow -men,’ said the oat who had just re- turned to the deck, armed with his sword, and a brace of the clumsy pistols of that age, yet they were serviceable if not handsome. “He is a remarkable man, my Jord—oh, my dear lady, have you returned to the deck?’ and the captain turned to Grace. ** Yes: please let me remain until the first gun is fired, and then I will go below. You were speaking of the courage of The Kyd, I believe?” ‘Yes, Grace, I was saying he wields a mar- vellous power over mankind, and possesses an indomitable courage, for he seems to lead his fearful life more from a love of danger than a desire for booty, as he will attack a vessel of war even, and one of double his strength,” re- marked the earl. * Yes, uncle, it is the same courage that Lu- cifer possessed, and which enabled him to lead armies of angels from Heaven down to Hell,” said Grace, with bitterness. : “God grant he lead no angels out of this ship; but if Kyd attacks us, this vessel will be a very hell with angels in it,” remarked the captain, sotto voce,.and then he ordered the helmsman to sore straight on his course, swerving not half a nt. The two vessels now were not more than two- thirds of a mile apart, and yet neither of them had fired a shot; but the crew of the cruiser were at quarters, and it was very evident that the schooner’s men were ready for action. ‘ ‘There is a flash!” cried the earl, suddenly. “No, "tis a battle-lantern seen through his open ports; he will board us, for that is his le, my jad.” -- = vard ‘We'll give him a broadside before he does, captain.” Bs ‘Oh, yes, my lord, a dozen of them if we can. Ho! at the guns there!” ‘‘ Ay, ay, sir.” ‘Send a thirty-two into yonder craft.” “Ay, ay!” and a moment after the beavy gun boomed forth with a that caused the onward and struck the water just astern of the schooner. “Too far aft; another one, and send it | his home!” " And again the thirty-two belcbed forth its ye emi strack a tow feet this wk = eon of he report cruiser to tremble, while the solid shot hurtled | ack Flag. 21 side of the schooner, sending the spray over her decks, and passing between her masts. ‘You gave them ashower-bath that time, . gunner; go ahead, for practice makes perfect, wae =e d again the h fired, in and again the hea nm was ied avawed is wehopant in all diveetiahe the shot struck, and over it, yet not a rope was cut, A : scar made on the tapering masts or graceful ull, - As soon as the firing commenced Lady Grace sunk down in the companionway unnoticed, and her determined pale face proved that she intended to remain there through all, if not dis- covered by her uncle and driven into the cabin, ‘“‘ Stand by for a broadside!” suddenly shouted the old captain. ‘* Ay, ay, sir; all ready!” came from the offi- cers at the guns. ‘* Helm a-starboard !” “Starboard it is, sir,” answered the helms- man, “Steady as you are—steady!” “Steady!” came in the cool tones of the men at the wheel. ‘* Give it to them !” The cruiser’s broadside went forth with a shock that made her hull tremble to the keel; but no crashing sounds followed, no shrieks of hard hit men followed, and it was plain that the guns had been fired a second too late, and had not sent the iron hail aboard of the schooner. ‘At your guns there!” the ringing voice came from the schooner, and was; distinctly heard on board the cruiser. Pre Teach those lubbers how to aim a gun— re! The white smoke of the cruiser’s guns hun between the two vessels, hiding them from eac other; but the well-trained gunners of the pirate sent their shots crashing through the high bul- warks, splintering the masts, tearing up the _ decks, and wringing howls of anguish from the wounded, ‘Well done, ye red dogs! boarders ahoy!” came the same clear, commanding tones, and though the cruiser’s men had rallied from the terrific shock given them, and sent their shots home now, the schooner shot out of the dense smoke, swept around like a regatta club boat turning a stake in a race, and was laid alongside of the cruiser with a skill that showed a master- hand at the helm, and an accuracy in the man- euver that could only come by long practice in just such wild scenes. “Lively at your guns! charge to tho muzzle! let ’em have it!” yelled Captain Dent, and then as the schooner came gracefully alongside, and he saw that she had skillfully out-maneuvered him, he shouted: “ Boarders repel boarders!” : “Quit your guns now! boarders here{ follow me!” and with the bound of an athlete the schoon- er’s captain sprung upon the cruiser’s deck, sweeping up, with one curve of his huge cutlass, half a dozen pikes leveled at his heart. He was the first man on the cruiser’s deck, and the quarter of a minute went by before his men, held back by a roll of the schconer, could follow; and in that instant Lady Grace, crouch- ing in the companionway, beheld his face, and with a groan of anguish let her head droop in her hands. Then followed the rattling discharge of blun- derbusses, muskets and pistols, the clash of st the cheers of the king’s crew, the wild yells o the pirates, stern orders, cries of pain, and then in swarms the schooner’s hounds Segre upon the deck of the vessel of war, and the fight be- came general, savage, brutal. ; Some had fallen between the surging hulls and were ground to atoms in a second; others - had gained a footing on the cruiser, to fall back into the waters, raising the stump of an arm piteously, or a face slashed beyond human re- semblance. Others were wegen some praying, still more shouting defiance, “tus e combat raged, while the moon looked calmly dowi upon the sickening scene, and yet with a sad, reproachful face et man’s inhumanity to man. With recklessness rate leader threw himself everywhere that the fight was thickest, his commanding voice ur is men on, and his cutlass falling unm around him “Press them back! no mercy to the bloody irates! hurl them into the sea!” cried Captain Dent, wielding his sword with deadly skill, while the Earl of Belmont was fighting like a tiger by his side. . ‘No quarter! they are but pirates! save the hangman trouble!” again shouted the cruiser’s | captain. : ~ ‘Ha! old man, that is your ery, is it?” and ‘| the Pirate Chief sprung ore him, “Yes, no quarter to pirates!” yelled the eap- tain. “Then take what you would pr and the oree upon the ptain, who, with a cheer to | sunk dead upon the deck. the fall ‘bravo —
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wee ta eee ee ee never have*turned my guns upon her. —— eee - — — 22 steel and fire, the pirate crew swept aft, carry- ing all opposition before them. ; ‘Now at them! over them! strike off their ike heads with your cutlasses,” and like a Faroutes the Pirate Chief hurled men from his pathway as though “oe d were mere children, and followed by his devils, he swept aft, and all was lost. ‘*Mercy! quarter! quarter!” The cries resounded upon all sides and came from the crew of the cruiser, for they had been cut down, routed, defeated upon their own deck, and by not more than half their number. CHAPTER XXXV. THE BUCCANEER’S PRIZE. ‘Wo commands this vessel?” and the firing having ceased the buccaneer chief stood glancing nround him with no more excitement than he would have shown under the most ordinary cir- cumstances. Out of the crowd a young man stepped for- ward and said: > - ‘*Since the captain is dead I am the ranking officer.” ‘How are you supplied with the munitions of war?” “We have a full supply.” ‘*Goodt I need iron to get me gold. You have other things on board here that I need, or I would not have attacked you, for hard knocks are generally all we get out of a vessel-of-war. You captured, several days ago, a treasure ship bound for the Spanish main.” ‘Ha! how know you that, Sir Pirate?” The chief smiled, but, making no reply, turned and walked aft, while his men were usy secur- ing what booty they could, and stores and am- munition they needed. Halting amidships he gazed upon the sicken- ing scene of death and misery around him, and the moonlight fell full upon his face and form. The latter was a model of manly beauty, tall, straight, broad-shouldered and as wiry as a tiger; the face was very dark, stern, and a Jong brown mustache drooped over the mouth, soft- ening the scornful expression that rested there. His eyes were large, and seemed to blaze-in excitement and melt in repose, and could flash from sadness to intense anger in an instant. His hair was worn long, dropping upon his broad shoulders, and a soft hag, in which was a sable Peres inned in with a diamond dag- ger, shaded his haughty head. He was dressed in buckskin boots with fanc tops, wore knee-breeches of red cloth, a blac velvet jacket trimmed with gold lace, a blue scarf of silk net, and buckskin gloves, now blood- stained. ‘Hullo, Marko! here’s game, and she’ll be mine if I fight for her,” suddenly cried a voice aft, and then came in stern tones: *“ Back, miscreant, or I'll sheathe my sword in your heart,” he words brought the pirate chief to him- self, for he had been lost in reverie, and bound- ing aft to the quarter-deck, he beheld an elder- ly gentleman, standing sword in hand before e open companionway, in which crouched a feminine form. It was the Earl of Belmont, and Lady Grace, and, confronting the nobleman, were three buccaneers, one of whom had spoken claiming a fair 6 ae ht thee for her, old man,” he said, coolly, ng his weapon and advancing. ““Hold{ what means this outrage?” and the chief bounded forward. “It means I’ye a prize, a fair petticoat, cap- tain, and the old gent will not give her up, un- til I show him the temper of my steel.” “Great God! tae Earl of Belmont!” The cry came from the chief's lips, and he stepped quickly back, drawing his hat down, so as to the better conceal his battle-begrimed face. “Ay, that am I, the Earl of Belmont; but who are you that calls me by name?” “Tt matters not who I am, my lord; I expect- ed not to see you on this vessel, or would ‘‘Ha! have we then met before, and you have ee favor at my hands, that you speak “It matters not, my lord; but you are free to di our way, without greater bai than has eareaty me, and [ will order my men on board my vessel at once,” and turning to the three who stood near, he said sternly: _ * To the schooner, hounds, and mind you, car- ry nothing with you but the arms you brought.” “But, ape Tl not give up yonder lovely ize,” said the man who had before claimed dy Grace The chief cast a glance at the shrinking form, and eo aoe face quickly away, while nes: . said 7 in rit chief sp ; one sweep t Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. were unswept now, and silence Spuer oeke all, for the Governor was visiting the forts, the Lady Lenore and Grace had gone for a horse- back ride with a young officer of the Governor's staff, and Captain Clement St. Vane, who waa in port, thoroughly refitting his cutter to go again after the famous pirate, and Kate was left alone with her thoughts. ‘*Ah me, I could have mourned him dead a thousand times, with less grief than I feel now, knowing him to be what Grace has told me he is, and what I cannot but believe him to be. ‘* And men seek my heart in love, and my fa- ther urges that I give my hand: alas! the hand must go without the heart, for that is buried in the grave of the t; would to God he also slept in his grave, for how will all this end? Ay, how can it end, but in death?” She started, a half-cry upon her lips, as sud- denly a shadow fell into the opev window, and she beheld a tall form standing within three feet of her. She would have fled, but she had not the strength; cry out she dare not, and, white as a. corpse she sunk back, one word upon her lips: * Cavanaugh.” There he stood before her; magnificent, digni- fied, and with his sad, impassioned eyes fixed upon her, but greatly changed from the youth ot two years before, and after a moment he said in his deep, earnest voice: : ‘Lady Kate of Belmont, have you forgotten me quite?” ‘No, Lremember you but too well.” * And is this your welcome to an old friend?” “Would you ask for a different greeting when you know what you are?” * He started visibly, but replied in a light ie: ‘‘Tam asailor, a wanderer over many seas, and one who, tired of the life I lead, would seek some fond heart, and have it for all my own: do you know of such an one that could love Kenton Cavanaugh, Lady Grace, in return for the idola-. trous love he would give her?” “Yes, the Kenton Cavanaugh of long ago, a woman might love; but not the mockery of what he once was, not what he is todas could a pure-hearted maiden regard with affection,” she answered firmly. He started again, and walked.to and fro for an instant: then he said quickly: ~ be know measI am, Kate of Belmont?* ‘Yes. “My name?” **] dare not utter it; for itis one that mothers frighten their naughty children with: itisa name I shuddered at hearing before I left Castle Cor: it is a name branded with infamy and red with blood: yes, Kenton Cavanaugh, I know you now, as Kyd, the King of the Black Flag.” His face was like marble, but he said calmly: apna thus knowing me you could never love mee Never!” - ‘**Once, you let me look into your eyes, the windows of your soul, Kate of Bel , and see down into your inmost heart, and what do you think I saw there?” Figs. , as it was,” she said, in a low e. ‘Yes, and you say it was not indelibly en- graven there; that time has faded it?’ ‘No, it is not there, but an eternity of time esa not have erased what thy es have one,’ “Then my image is notin your heart, Kate of Delmont? “* Whose is?” and he asked the question with # jealous flash in his oe ae “A ve only is there; the grave of my buried love for the Kenton of the past.” “Kate of Belmont, farewell; to-day we part forever. “Tt was madness for me to come here and see you, but I had not the strength to resist ‘*T am all that is bad, far worse than you can ever know; but there is one thing that is pure and good in me, and that is my love for you. ‘Behold yonder brig lying at anchor under the very of the Bioodhound; that vessel I ured last night, and my crew are on board pt ! y of her, while my schooner, the Galley Slave, awaits me two leagues abe: 3 “‘T came here to see you, to look once more in your face, in your eyes, and see if your love for me, as mine for you, bad remained gregn. * Alas! you cast me off, and I do not blame you, for woes woman could loye such as I? heed m Ue ‘reek nothing for | be that the
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Captain Kyd, the King of the Black Flag. 23 in waiting, and row out to the brigantine, which | BY J. Cc, COWDRICK, | BY OLL COOMES. spread its white sails and flew down the bay. 390 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. 7% Death Notch, the Destroyer. She watched his tall form standing at the 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. 43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger. helm, watched until she could see it no longer, 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pice. 44 Old Dan Rackhack, the Great Extarminator. and then with a moan of anguish wrung from 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, 46 B -wie-Knife Ben, the Nor’west Hunter. her inmost on i 473 Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective, 48 Idaho Tom, the Young Outlaw of Silverland. most heart, fell prone the floor ina , Bi Red Rob, the Boy Roaa-a, deathlike nt. on | BY Si™t S, HALL—“‘ Buckskin Sam.» {99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Life. ; . the Giant P \ e CHAPTER XXXVIL | 8 Kit Carson, Jr., the Crack Shot. 148 ceekained ‘Alf, the Giant: Hunter. zs CONCLUSION, | Pe ed bb aed rn epee : How Kyd kept his threat and fulfilled his | ark Dashwood, the Desperate. 3 ! BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. 186 The Black Bravo; or, The Tonkaway’s Triumph. 176 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen ophecy made to Kate of Belmont, and became | a, cs 4 , Indeed the merciless King of the Black Flag, the | sic ba rible Tonkaway; or, Old Rucky and his 494 Don Sombrero. the Caltfortia Road Gent. reader of history already knows, as he does al- | 195 The Lone Star Gambler; or, The Magnolias 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. Maid : : i 3 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom’s Mission. ‘0 that the swift-sailing Galley Slave was hunt- aid. | 993 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Motnenia. el to its death at las the Bloodhound, and | 199 Diamond Dick, the Dandy from Denver. . | Z ; her chief captured Sait to England, tried’ and 204 Big Foot Wailace, the King of the Lariat. | oi pete ey oo Tie Bick Lesene om sentenced to death on the gallows, expiating 2!2 Tue Brazos Tizers; or, The Minute Men. | 245 Barranca Bill, the Revolver Champion. = his many erimes with his life. a Es roak py - gh nok Eas = ae | 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. °S But histors ote not fully make known that 995 Rocky Mountate ‘Ale se The Waif of tis Range | 268 tron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer, af Kate ef Belmont never married, but, after 239 The Terribl-'frio: or, The Angel of the Army. | 228 Leopard Luke the King of Horse-Thieves. E Kyd’s death, took the vail as a nun, while her 244 Merciless Mart, the Man Tiger of uri. a ae i Set Big Nugget eg sects = cousin, Lady Grace, who also loved the corsair 250 The Rough Riders: or. Sharp Eye the Scourge. | 995 Lightning Bolt the Cowon Tersar iin chief, tore his image from her heart, and became 2°95 Double Dan the Dastard; or, The Pirates, | 201 Horseshoe Hank, the Mav of Biz Luck, > the wife of Clement St. Vane, = ee ie Three, The Terrible Trail. | 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover. ee Of Lord Gerald, the false heir to the earldom , 973 ee, tein Maseethe Gores OuG ae j 811 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men. > and Castle Cor, and Lord Manly Meredith, lit- | 289 The crated, comes, “em Ain sy Carl's Revenge. ! 823 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers. = aa tle is known regarding their fate; yet certain it | 287 Dandy Dave and his Horse, White Stocking. BY NEWTON M. CURTISS. is, that neither of t inherited the titles | 293 Stampede Steve; or, The Doom of the Double > oe and estates they hoped for, being cut off in their ace, ; 120 The Texan Spy; or. The Prairie Guide. ; ae early manhood by Death’s relentless clutch, | 301 Bowlder Bill; or, The Man from Taos. 254 Giant Jake, the Patrol of the Mountain. and through the vile plottings of Zebel the | 209 Raybold, the Rattling Ranger. Witch, who was none other than Jule the Gipsy ned MF ow she way ie ita the Nemesis. BY FRANCIS JOHNSON. i ; 28 King Kent; or, The Bandits of the Bason. = the poor girl whom Hurtel of the Red Hand had | 842 Blanco Bill. the Mustang Monarch. - x : ay “in! ne She Mout tain Outha . dragged down to ruin, ‘and then, as he believed, | 858 The Prince of Pan Out. 13 aim ha hs rac rs Th Bord a Jutlaws. had a into the > to die, but who had | 371 Gold Buttons; or, The Up Range Pards. 124 henementte beh torus = oie ee miraculously escaped i ri : _ = that her ion not jek ap tine foal might of | BY MAJOR DANGERFIELD BURR. | 555 The Bush Ranger: or, The Half-Breed Rajah, 2 departure from Castle Death, had made him | _% Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King. : 136 The Outlaw Hunter; or, The Bush Ranger. | 38 The Border Bandit; or, The Horse Thief’s Trail. BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY. 82 Tron Wrist, the Swordmaster. the blood-stained, crime-haunted Captain Kyd, 117 Dashing Dandy; one _—- ur of the Hills. hess nine will go down branded with infamy | ee eee ca berder Boxes: seabice iar e end of time, 5 175. Wild Bill’s Trump Card; or, The Indian Heiress. | ; 18 The Phantom Mazeppa; or, The Hyena. = Kind reader, my story hasended; putifI have | 448 Hark Kenton, the Traitor. | 7 — ee ae sone of Steel. Pe interested you sufficiently in Captain Kyd, and > I eh A A ea ce Bey. ge he ; r . 150 ©) Rubio Bravo. King of the Swordsmen. 45 ie beeen oe Le neve mos im rr histori- | BY DR. J. H. ROBINSON, 157 Mourad, the Mameluke; or, The Three Sword- : faeon comand are to follow the career 13 ay; or, Nick i . 3 masters. : ; of the noted co on the Am coast; the eee of pe tae bideest= ec aie 169 Corporal Cannon, the Man of For'v Duels, = weird, mysterious life of Zebel the Witch; the | 17 N iiahades or, The Robber Prince. 236 Champion Sam; or, The Monerehsof the Show' es: loves of Kate of Castle Cor, and Grace of Grey- 22 Whitelaw; or, Nattie of the Lake Shore. 262 Fighting Tom. the Terror of the Toughs. burst; the hates of Lord Gerald and Lord Mere- | °7 Hirl, the Hunchback; or, The Santee Sword- | 38? Spring-Heel Jack; or, The Masked Mystery, ! . 2% F P 4 maker. + dith, all will be told in the novel soon to follow: | i8 Silver Knife: or. The Rocky Mountain Ranger. BY GUSTAVE AIMARD. * , vi ydrabad, the Strangler. ’ : THE CURSE SH THR. COAST; 78 The Knights of the Red Cross; or, The Granada | 15 Th¢ Tiger Slayer; on. Eagle Heart to the Rescue, - t= We 3 - ~ . - . : 4 THE SORCERESS OF HELL GATS. ee eee : at the rapper's Daughter; on The Outlaws Fate cf BY MAJOR DANIEL BOONE DUMONT seh RD for i. . * | 62 Loyal Heart: or, The Trappers of Arkansas, a 2 se 883 Silver Sam, the Detective. | 149 The Border Rifles. A Tale of the Texan War. ea B dl U D Lib 889 Colonel Double-Edge, the Cattle Baron's Pard. | 151 The Freebooters. A Story_of the Texan War. ~~ ea e S ime rary. | 411 The White Crook; or, Old Hark’s Fortress. 158 The White Scalper. ’ = ; —— ‘ 420 The Old River Sport; or, A Man of Honor. az. BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, fA esp ee a ee Cy et tehllentaPe =. 145 Pistol Pards Or, The Silents rt ¢ from. Cinnabar. | 464 Sandycraw, tne Man of Grit. 16 The ue izard: or, The Seminole Prophet. a aad, Sharp; or, The Man e Sand. — : RY GEORGE C. JENKS 18 The Sea Bandit; or, Tne Queen of the Isle. 18% Hand : Knights of the Canyon. 2 , . . 192 The Tioteatoe Spot. 398 Sleepless Eye, the Pacific Detective, él Captain Seguaie Gerben seg senss: ce : 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch. 432 The Giant Horseman. | 111 The Smuggler Ca tain: or. The Skipper’s Crime, ; 229 Captain Cutsleeve; or, The Little Sport. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot Spy. + 268 rae the Man of ag an / BY COLONEL DELLE SARA. 270 Andros the Rover; or, The Pirate’s Daughter. = ac 4 | “ Boon pect: ; or, The Bad Time at 83 sitw er Sam; gm The Mystery of Dendwood City. 361 Tombstone Dick, the freie Pilot. ‘ a ae 333 Derringer Dick. the Man with the Drop. ‘ ) Searles Captain; or. Frisoner use, Ss. a 844 Double Shot Dave of the Left Hand. 105 Shamus OBrien, the Bould Boy of Guingal. ray or eee oS 856 Thr e Handsome Sports; or, The Double Com- BY CAPT. FRED. WHITTAKER 6 Wor eh, the Boss Bruiser. By Edward L. ination. ' eae x3 ¥: : ; j 375 Royal George, the Taree in One. 99 The Russian Spy; or, The Starry Cross Brothers. | ,9 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover. a ; wa he Piper Belective. Angels’ Fiat Racket, 65 The Red Eaiah’ of, The Scourge of the Indies, | ,20 Vidoeg, the French Police Spy. Written by : . rt ak j / i if Be tral Tiger Yom of fed Bend Be doe Lape Castelo. «2 Talo of Tonteney. 11 Midsbioman Ease. By Captain Maryat = 459 Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives. 98 The Rock Rider; or, The Spirit of the Sierra oe Rabi dag Bl eg at Ey eg | 478 Pimnacie Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. | 108 The Duke of Diamonds. : 60 Lelie the Robber King. By Frank Du- : - ee 115 The Severed Head; or, The Secret of Castle i or, Mar Magic e 8. “ 4 ase 357 Jack Simons, Detective, BY GEORGE ST. GEOREE. 410 Sarah Brown, Detective. By K. F. Hill. SI. se , BY PROF 206 Duncan, the Sea Diver. . t 471 The Heart of Oak Detective. By E, A, St. Mox, = — a at ; FY. J. H. INGRAHAM, 417 Tucson Tom; or, The Fire Trailers. A new issue every Wednesday. siepete 75 : pper: or, The Freeboo - d ss ‘Captain; or. The Fallee: BY ©, DUNNING CLARK, Newsd a 5-3 S The Pirate of the G ie SES cone nape
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mer na i SEE ae a Oe SET rue oer att 9 . \ at a Each Number Complete. a BUT THLE BILL NOvEIS 984 Buffalo Bill's Life Raffle; or, The Doomed Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. 979 Buffalo Bill's Relemtless Trail. Prentiss Ingraham, 973 The Dread Shot Four; or, My Pards of the Plains. By Col. W. F. Cody. 964 Buffalo Bill’s Invincibles; or, The Sable Shad- ower’s Sublime Saerifice. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. , 9 Buffalo Bill's Blue Belt Brigade; or, Sun- flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P, Ingraham. 6 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes; or, The ee Man in Blue. By Col. P,; Ingra< am. 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Gold Seekér's Doom. By Col. P. Ingraham. 943 Buffalo Bill's Block Game; or, The Mounted Miners of the Overland. By Col. P, ham. 936 Buffalo Bill’s Black Pard; or, The Gold Boomers of the Big Hern. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. 927 Buffalo Bill’s Bluff; or, Dusky Sport. By Col. P. Ingraham. a Buffalo Bill’s Quandary; or, Velvet Bill’s Vow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 915 Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout: or, Go- .. Wan-go, the Redskin Rider. By Col. P. In- is graham. 00? Buffalo Bill's League; or, Red Butterfly. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. : 904 Buffalo Bill’s Tangled Trail; or, Gentleman Jack, the Man of Many Masks. By Col. P. { Ingraham, * 900 Buffalo Bill's Rough Riders; or, Texas Jack's Sharp-Shooters. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 895 Buffalo Bill's Secret Ally; or, The Texan's Double. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 890 Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. 882 The Three Bills; Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and Band-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth, { By Col. P. Ingraham. : 874 yee Bill’s Buckskin Braves; or, The Card uesn’s Last Game. By Colh P, Ingraham. 869 Buffalo Bill’s Road Agent Round-Up; or, The Dick, the Mysterious Masked Man in Black. By Col. P. Ingraham. 863 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Charm; or, The Man ) With the Scar. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 857 Buffalo Bill's Royal Flush; or, The Pony Ri- ee Death-Run. By Col, Prentisa Ingra- am, 851 Buffalo Bill’s Double Dilemma; or, The Great Scout’s Big Three. By Col. :% Ingraham. ‘ 845 Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack's ‘ Death Shot. By Col. Rrentiss Ingraham. . 8389 The Ranch Kin Proxy. By Buffalo Bill. 880 Buffalo Bill's Boys in Blue; or, The Bri Band's Blot-out. By Col. P. Ingraham. 826 Buffalo Bill’s Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon Soout to the Rescue. By Col. P. Ingraham. By Colonel | Ingra- Dead-Shot; or, Texas Jack's. 7 822 Buffalo Bill’s Best Bower; or, Montebello the Gold King. By Col.. Prentiss Ingraham. 820 White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner Marauder’s Death-Track. y Buffalo Bill. 816 Buffalo Bill's Red Trail; or, The Road-Rider Renegade’s Run Down. By Col. P. Ingraham. | 812 Buffalo Bill's Death-Knell; or, The Red Hand Riders of the Rockies. By Col. P. Ingraham. OT Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl Mascot of Moonlight Mine, By Buffalo Bill. 807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl Grande Ralph, the Cowboy Chief. By Buf- '“falo Bill. . 794 Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked Woman of the Colorado Canyon. By Col. P. Ingrahem. 787 Buffalo Bill’s Deai Shot; or, TheSkeleton Scout of the Colorado. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 781 Buffalo Bill's Brand; or, The Brimstone Brotherhood. By Cc}. Prentiss Ingraham, 777 Buffalo Biil’s Spy-Shadower; or, The Masked Men at Gran& Canyon. By Col. P. Ingraham. 773 Buffalo Bill’s Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. | By Leon Lewis. 769 Buffalo Bill's Sweepstake; or, The Wipe-out at Last Chance. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 765 Buffalo Bill's Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.- ~~ my be 761 Buffalo Bill’s Mascot; or, The Death Vatley Victim No. 13. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 757, Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Desperado De- tective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 760. Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer's Shadow, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. : 743 Buffalo Bill’s Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack's _ Bravos. By Col. Prentiss . Ingraham. 739 Buffalo Bill’s Blind; or, The Masked Driver of Death's Canyon. By Col, Prentiss Ingra- ham. 735 Buffalo. Bill Robin Hood Riyals. ham. a 731 Buffalo Bill's Zeagles; or, Silk Lasso Sam. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 727 Buffalo Biii’s Body Guard; or, The Still Hunt of the Hills.. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 722 Buffalo Bill on the War Path; or, Silk_Lasso Sam, the Will-o’-the-Wisp. By Col. P. In- graham, 716 Buffalo Bill's Scout Shadowers; or, Emer- ald Ed of Devil’s Acre. By Col, P. Ingraham, 710 Buffalo Bill Baffled; or, The Deserter Des- perado’s Defiance. By Col. P. Ingraham. 697 Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Brotherhood; — or, Opening Up a Lost Trail. By Col. P, In- graham. 691 Buffalo Bill's Blind Trail; or, The Daughter of the Regiment. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 682 Buffalo Bill's Secret Service Trail. By Major Dangerfield Burr. and His Merry Men; or, ‘The By Col. Prentiss Ingra- imstone| 667 Buffalo Bill’s Swoop; or, the King of the Mines. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 658 The Cowboy Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, Ten Cents a Copy. 2 ME | Library 653 The Lasso*King’s League; or, The Tigers of Texas. By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham. 649 Buck Taylor, the Saddle King. Buffalo Bill's Chief of Scouts. By Col. P. Ingraham. : 644 Buffalo Bill’s Bonanza; or, The Knights of the Silver Circle. By Col. P. Ingraham. 639 The Gold King; or, Montebello, the Magnifi- cent. By Buffalo Bill 629 Buffalo Bill's Daring Role; or, Daredeath Dick, King of the Cowboys. By Leon Lewis. 599 The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains. By Buffalo Bill, 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or, Will Cody, fhe Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline, 414 Red, Renard, the Indian. Detective; or, The Gold\Buzzards of Colorado. By Buffalo Bill. 401 The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in Borderland. By Buffalo Bill. 897 The Wizard Brothers; or, White Beaver’s Trail. By Buffalo Bill, 394 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte; or, 7 agence Man’s Red Trail. By Buffalo Sill. 862 Buffalo Bill’s Grip; or, Oath-bound to Custer, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. 829 Buffalo Bill’s Pledge; or, The League of Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. 819 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. By Buffalo Bill. 304 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler; or, The Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo Bil, 248 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier’s Sweet- heart. By Buffalo Bill, Government Scout and Guide, 189 Wild Bill’s Gold Trail; or, The Desperate Dozen. By Col, P. Ingraham. 175 Wild Bill's Trump Card; or, The~ Indian Heiress. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot; or, Dagger Don’s Double. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 158 Buffalo Bill, Chief of Scouts; or, The Doomed Dozen. By Dr. Frank Powell. 117 Buffalo Bill’s Strange Pard; or, Dashing Dandy, the Hotspur of the Hills. By Major D. Burr. * 92 Buffalo Bill, Amazon of the West. Burr. : 83 Gold Bullet Sport; or, The Knights of the Overland. By Buffalo Bill. 52 Death Trailer, the Chief of Scouts; cr, Life ant Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo NEW ISSUES TO COME. 985 The Long-Haired Pards; or, The Tartars of | the Plains. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr. 986 Iron Wrist, the Swordmaster, By Col. Thos. Hoyer Monstery. 987 Shadrach, the Sport Detective; or, The Secret Seven. By John W, Osbon. 988 Rocky Mountain Rob, the California Outlaw. By Albert W. Aiken. the Burkskin King;, or, The By Major Dangerfield ceipt of 0000008600 0000000089 000000004 . ? THE DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per eopy, or sent by mail, pre-paid, on re- price. 000000000 000000000 000000000 009000000