Beadle's New York Dime Library (no. 1076) (1903 09)
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2 Qy * r 4 } | : \ « ; Ba 2 SS . a ‘ NE ee SP ATONE a = —— re) ney ‘ CopyriGut, 1884, By Braptzs & ADAMS. a ae tr bere Gist ak CU yy 00g Sas uihes bak Pada tin bape e he eee ae ae pape ridnccas«hesed tagetnenles Sepr., 1903. Ho. 1076, Teigiegzree FERRERS Con wabitiners: yo cons « mr. Vol [IVY « . Month. tie RIES Shear y $1.00 a Year. ® © 379 Pearl Street, New York, THE LOST CORVETTE; or, Blakeley’s Last Cruise. BY CAPTAIN FRED. WHITTAKER, AUTHOR OF “NEMO, KING OF THE TRAMPS,” “RED RUDIGER,” “THE RUSSIAN SPY,” “THE RED RAJAH,” “‘THE IRISH CAPTAIN,” “THE MAN It RED,” ‘‘ DEATH’S HEAD CUIRASSIERS,” ‘‘ PHANTOM KNIGHTS,” ETC., ETC, sea it DOWN WITH THE BRITISH!”
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a 78 ‘. to windward; for the lit i of the crew, consisting of Tedd 2 ~The Lost Corvette; BLAKELEY’S LAST CRUISE, A True Story of an Irish-American Sailor in 1814. BY CAPT. FRED’K WHITTAKER, AUTHOR, OF ‘‘THE THREE FRIGATES,” ‘“‘ THE SAUCY JANE, PRIVATEER,” ‘* THE FOG- DEVILS,” “ THE FLYING DUTCH- MAN OF 1880,” ETC., ETC, CHAPTER I, THE FAUGH-A-BALLAGH. A TEARING northwest gale was driving the aes from the broad Atlantic into the eyes of the watch on deck of the fishing-lugger Faugh- a-Ballagh, as she dashed through the waves. Such a gale, on the coast of Europe, is a very different thing from the same gale on the Amer- ican coast. Here, we are used to associate the idea of a ‘‘northwester” with a clear sky and a itiless cold, that comes howling from the Vestern prairies and blows off-shore all the time; while, on the other side of the Atlantic, the very reverse is the case, The Faugh-a-Ballagh was covered with the driving mists from the Gulf Stream, that shows its influence in warming the waters on the west coast of freland, The sky was covered with a mass of ragged gray clouds, all torn and dirty looking, with little light, as they went scudding across the face of the heavens, like frightened sheep before a ravening wolf, The lugger was of that kind among fishing- boats, in possession of a deck, with quarters for her crew. She had two masts, that’ carried jorge lug-sails; while a little spar, that rejoiced in the name of the “‘ jigger,” supported over the extreme stern a little sail of its own, only useful when the vessel tacked. Her watch on deck was confined to the gray- headed owner, Captain Matthew Blake, of Gal- way; while Tim Bodkin, his first mate and factotum in general, was steering, and the rest French, Pat Lynch, Florence McCarty and Jim Morrissey, were below, ready to come on deck whenever their services were wanted, but not particularly . anxious to face the cold, damp gale that had driven Blake’and Bodkin to their pea-jackets, oilskins and ‘‘sou’westers,” from under which they sullenly contemplated the scud as it drove across the heavens, while they conversed to- gether in low tones. * And it’s goin’ to be a wild night, Tim,” said Blake, sententiously, as he dashed the spray from his eyes with the sleeve of bis coat. Tim only nodded, as he pare the tiller a push the little lugger “‘ carried a weather-helm,” as it is called, and needed con- stant watchfulness, ; “ And it’s lucky that the boat’s got plenty of po aoa the captain continued: “lhe boys - ht have sint us ata better time, I'm thinkin’, m,* Tim shifted the helm again, and replied, dryly: x he Sassenach won’t wait, Mat, and why should we wait, ayther? It’s the time fur the boys to strike, whin the ould harridan’s at her worst. An’ they say that, what wid Boney ani the Yankees, she’s clane at her wit’s ind fur money and min.” Matthew Blake laughed rather bitterly, as he said: “ Divil a man need she want, while ould Ire- land is to the fore, It’s never the time I saw England in trouble, she didn’t have the Irish to fight for her. And don’t I mind the days of *Ninety-eight? Sure it was the Irish killed the Irish, and will be so, till the Sassenach’s gone foriver.” He shook his fist vindictively toward the east, where the shores of England lay, out of sight, behind the curtain of mist, and added: ‘ris there they are to-day, bad-luek to ’ém! An Irishman heads the army that’s b’atin’ Boney, and Irishmen are in ivery ridgmint that’s in the sarvice; and what's the use of our comin’ out bere, to find a Yankee ship, that: no man knows anythin’ about, ’cept that. she’s comin’ to barry the English coast, till she gits __ tuk, like the last.” } as ~ The Ingger at this point shoved her nose into the middle of a wave that came curling over the bow, and shipped such a quantity of water that Blake exclaimed: “Tis no use, Tim. The hooker was niver meant to go oper in weather like this, and we may as well turn back,” im Bodkin shook himself from the water that had dashed over him, and said to his ebief: ‘* We'll bear up, av ye say the word, captain; ‘ but what'll the boys say, ay we come back and niver see the ship that’s come all the way acrass the salt say to meet us? We'll be disgraced in- tirely. And there isn’t a revenue cutter to be seen, and the lugger can stand more than this, tin times over.” , : hands with Matthew B ‘intelligent, bearing the unmistakable stamp of The Lost. Corvette. Matthew Blake said nothing more; but set his face to the southwest, and peered through the mist in silence for some minutes, At last he said, slowly: ‘* And it ain’t a Blake as will turn his back whin the boys want him to go to a place, Tim; but what are we goin’ to do, in the world, av she don’t come at all? We can’t go huntin’ over the ocean fur her, like a hound after a fox. Av she don’t come in sight in half an hour, ’m thinkin’ we’d better go back.” Tim made no answer but to throw the bows of the lugger away from another wave taat threatened a 13 abe agg of the last ducking, and the Faugh a-Ballagh dashed on like a panther (for she was of that sharp and graceful build, that reminded the beholder of a panther), Be- fore the little craft could go another mile in the gale, the captain espied, through the driving mists, the dim outlines of a ship ahead, and cried to Tim, in a tone of great relief: “ And ther’s the cr’ater at last! Did ye iver see the likes of that, now? And she has come, whin I thought it was all a trick.” Sure enough, a ship it was, ahead of them; and she seemed to 2 a swift one. She was ‘* close-hauled on the port tack ”—that is tosay, had the wind on her “port” or left side, at an acute angle to her bows, so as to make her pro- gress through the waves by af oblique advance, and was stripped to her topsails and courses, her long, naked spars standing out above the swelling canvas below, with a graceful effect. She came driving down on the little lugger, as if she, also, was bent on a meeting, and, before she had been in sight for twenty minutes was abeam of the fishing-craft, and had backed her maintopsail, becoming stationary, to wind- ward of the lugger, which thus found itself in comparatively calm water, under the lee of the great bull of the ship. Then it became apparent that the stranger was a ship-of-war, from the uniforms of men, who looked over her sides, and a hail came down to Matthew Blake: ‘‘ Lugger ahoy! Is that the Faugh-a-Ballagh?” Captain Matthew Blake flooked up at the towering bulk alongside him, his face beaming with an expression very different to that which it had worn for the last hour, as he shouted out: ‘‘And is it yerself, Master Jack? Andit’sa proud day that sees ye here again, wid a good wp under ye.” be answer seemed to be all that was required; for he heard some one else shout, on the sbip: “Stand by to heave a rope to’the lugger. It’s all right.” Then the great ship came drifting down on the little lugger, so close that there was danger that they might collide, and a rope came flying through the air tothe decks of the wh to Ballagh, which was neatly caught by Blake, who called down the fore-hatch to his crew to ‘come out and help,” in the democratic style that prevails on fishing-boats. They came tumb- ling up to his assistance, with more promptitude than might haye been expected, and, in a short time after, the lugger was being towed at the end of a long hawser, with her sails down, while the large ship was standing off to sea a and Captain Blake was making his pre- parations to go aboard hér, by no means an ge 4 task in such a sea as was running. ut the fishermen were used to going out in just such seas, and before long the skipper of the ube) Recut h stood on the deck of the’ ship; shaking hands with a young man, whom he addressed as ‘Master Jack,” evidently full of joy at the meeting, CHAPTER IT. MASTER JACK, Tue face of the young man who was shakin ke was handsome an the race from which he sprung. His dark gray eyes, with long lashes, were of that kind which—as the Celtic on it--are ‘Jaid in wid a dirty finger.” His prominent brow, square jaw, and rather high eheek-bones, together with the clustering curls of dark soft hair that fell on either side of his face, pro- claimed him an Irishman by race, whatever the place of his birth. He wore the uniform of the British navy, as did the rest on deck, and, from the way in which they gave way before him he was evi- dently the chief in command in the ship. The captain of the lugger kept shaking hands with him, as if he did not know when to stop, r ting all the time: ‘And it’s meseif that’s proud to see ye, Master Jack, after all these years, wid a ship of yer own. And what’s her name, sur?” Master Jack smiled, as he answered; ** And it’s a enough name for her, Mat. And what would ye think we should call her?” Mat thought a moment and replied soberly: ‘* And sure I c’u’dn’t say, Master Jack. Is it the Seourge of England, or the Terror of the Say? Sure slie’s a purty ship, and sails like a we 7 at is it that stings hard, and nobody can catch it, Mat?” asked the young hennpanaer: with the same smile, Mat scratched his head and finally said: ‘* And it’s meself don’t know, Master Jack, unless it’s a bay or a wasp. W’u’d ye call her the Bay?” Master Jack laughed outright, while subdued per” newly on the faces of more than one of the officers around, who were amused at the simplicity of the fisherman, ‘* No,” replied the young commander. “We don’t call her the Bee, for Shoney is not in our line. Itis our business to sting and we do it with all our might, Mat. This isthe Wasp, and we are going to show the proud Sassenach that Ireland can sting, from a long way off. It is not because they have killed, starved, and dis- graced us for centnries, that we are going to give if up so easily. They killed my father, and the son has come to get his revenge. And ie going to have it, Mat; he is guing to have i The eyes of the young man flashed fire as he spoke, and there was more than one face, among those around him that expressed the same feelings of anger and longing for revenge, displayed on that of the commander. As for Mat Blake, he seized the hand of the young chief again, and wrung it hard as he ejaculated: ‘* And it’s niver a Blake that'll go back on a Blake, yer honor. It was the Blake of Castle Blake, was the life of ’Ninety-eight, and it’s his own son that’s comin’ back to his own place to make it hot for the Sassenachs,” Then ** Master Jack,” as he had been called by the fisherman, turned to the officers around him, and said: ‘Gentlemen, this is my cousin, Mattbew Blake of Galway, and he te come to give us important $e apes from the enemy. Mr. Winthrop will take charge of the deck, while I am down in the cabin. If you see a sail, call me af once, for anything in thése seas is sure to be_a foe,” With a slight gesture of dismissal he turned away, and went into the cabin, while the boat’s crew, that had brought Mat to the side of the ship, were taken to the forecastle of the Wasp (as the captain had declared her name to be) and entertained by the sailors as if they were wel- come and long expected visitors, In the cabin of the Wasp, meanwhile, the scene was very different, as the young captain as soon as he had entered the room, the door of reg was guarded by a sentry, said to the sol- ier: ‘ “Don’t disturb me, unless it isa sail. Noth- ing else, mind,” r\ out sentry, Mer pics Sees coat of the ritish marines, salu s ing his pi as he answered stiffly : See eee pies ** Very good, sir.” Then Master Jack and Matthew Blake went into the cabin, and the first thing that tho young man did was to throw his erms*around the neck of the old fisherman, nd say, in a. broken tone, as if struggling with some power- ful emotion: ‘* Mat, Mat, time we mét.” The old fisherman drew his sleeve across his eyes, with a hasty motion, as he answered; ‘Don’t be thinkin’ of it, Master Jack. Sura what a difference from the last the Blake of Castle Blake ¢’a’dn’t be disgraced . by any ee | thief of an Englishman, that iver wore a red coat. "Tis the name of a hero he ot, and what matter is it how a man dies, as. ong as he gets that? The thing to ask now. jg what does yer honor want of me, and.why did ye send for me?” The young captain drew closer to the old fish- a to ask in aa ‘*Does any one know me, do you a ten y ne you think, Mat rra wan of thim, yer honor, Th i that ye wint dead, like the rest, aid teat aes Neng Blake are all gone, Av I hadn't known that ye were aboord dn’ know As BA Bes: , 1 w’u'dn’t have ‘The young man smiled faintly a i stat rsa for they seemed ns seo tin S of memories, not. i he answered , entirely pleasant, and ‘Ay, ay, Mat, I don’t doubt 'm changed. Ive had enough to change me, God ra i Nursed, with the hate of England in m very blood, how can I help but fight her, as long as there isa breath in my body. But I am wast- ing time, Tell me the news from home, Mat, Tell me how they all are, and what are the prospects of a rising?” Mat shook his head sadly, Sorra chance, do I see, yer honor, unless Boney bates the duke in Spain;. and, from what they tell me, he’s on his last legs, that samo Boney. It’s all the time they do be talking at home of the great victories, and the Connaught Rangers, and givin’ us a fine palaver, an] Lut- tering us all up. And sure, though the poor cr’aters know, at the bottom of their sowls, that » it’s all blarney; they like it all the same, and they w’u’dn’t rise fur King Brian Boru bimselt No, no, Master Jack, I w’u’dn’t like to be givint ye hopes that wadn’t be made sartainties, an? that’s what’s the matter. Ye can’t depind on the boys to rise, till they see a goed: chance,
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~The Lost Corvette. 3 ' Waster Jack listened to his friend thought- fully, and asked: ‘But suppose that they saw a good chance. lb ps that they saw an army of Americans, landed on the coast, and an American fleet on the seas, to support it, wouldn’t they rise then?” Mat leaned forward, with an earnest look on his face, as he asked: ** An’ is it likely that we’ll have anything of the sort, Master Jack? An’ are they comin’?” “They may, if we are careful and play our ecards well. But it would not do to send an army across the seas, unless we are quite sure that it would be helped by another here.” , The honest face of the fisherman flushed, as he said: ‘An’ it’s meself that thinks, Master Jack, that av ye were to land an army in Ireland, and ask the people to rise, they’d do it, av they saw a ghost ofa chance. But whin we remem- ber ’Ninety-eight, and the hangin’s and murders, it makes the best of us think twice, before we lift a band ag’in’ the Government, where the spies can see us, It’s a hard thing, Master ack, avick, to come home some fine mornin’ and find the house, that ye lift so snug at bed- time, all a pile of ashes, and the wife and childer sittin’ by the roadside, cryin’ wid the cold and hunger. Ye were too young, whin ye was taken off, Master Jack, to remimber all that, but I’m not that young, or that old, but I mind it well. No, sir, ye can’t depind on the boys till the battle’s won; so don’t build any hopes on it, Master Jack.” ‘ Master Jack listened, and nodded thought- u lly. ‘OTis well, Mat. We're not likely to see it, unless my mission is much more successful than I have any means of anticipating, at present. Our country is but alittle thing yet, and it will have to grow a good deal, before it can tackle the British lion, in a square fight. But there one thing we can do, and we have done it, for some time, with more or less success; that is, to at his ships on an equality, and to whip them, ship to ship. Now tell me, Mat, what men-of-war have you seen, around Galway, this summer?” The fisherman reckoned over his fingers. “‘There’s the Reindeer first, yer honor. She’s a purty brig as iver was sailed and it’s lord somebody is the captain, And what was the that name, to be sure? It was something about Brading, yer honor, I’m thinking.” *« About what, Mat?’ ‘About good brading and purliteness, yer honor,” responded the fisherman, scratching his head. ‘‘ What d’ye call it—oh. ay, I mind now—it’s Manners, Lord Jack Manners they callbim, That’s the first, sur, and then there's the Avon and the Pelican, and a host of other ships and cutters, that goes prowlin’ about, for all the world like cats in the ,back yards, hunt- in’ up each other.” * Where was the Reindeer, when you last saw her?” asked Master Jack, sharply, with a look in his eyes as if he knew the name. . Galway, yer honor, where she had put in for fresh mate, for the officers, She wint away before we did, and I h’ard that she was to cruise in the chops of the channel, lookin’ fur Yankee ships.” Master Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Did you hear any talk of whether they sus- er that this ship, or any other, was coming, a “Sorra a word, yer honor; and not a wan of thim thinks that it’s the Blake of Castle Blake, that’s comin’ to wake ’em up. I'll swear to that. And avy I was yer honor, it’s into the bay I’'d go, as bould as blazes, and no one’u’d know ye from Adam.” _ Master Jack started slightly, as he heard the advice, and he asked: ‘*Was there any ship-of-war in the bay, when you left it, Mat?” “Divil a wan, yer honor,” “And do you think I could see my grand- father, if I got into the house safely?” asked, the young man, with a nervous tremor that he did not seek to conceal, Mat seemed to be thinking deeply over the question, as if he had expected it, but was un- willing to answer it. It was some time before he said anything, and when he did, it was with an air of doubt and hesitation, in marked con- trast with his usual bluff demeanor. He shifted about on his chair likewise, as he answered: “Master Jack, V’ll not deny that the ould gintleman asked me to git ye to come in, av it was only fur a moment, that he might see ye wance, before he died, and that was the més- sage, I was wantin’ to give ye. Butsure, what does it matter what the poor cr’ater wants now? It’s not long he is for this world, and whin he dies, he won’t be any better off, for havin’seen ye. It’s a mighty quare place fur ye to go, Master Jack, and that’s what’s the : r’ason I didn’t tell ye, before. Yell haye to take yer life in yer band, av ye ashore in land, now. Sure the ee is all crazy wid the news of Boney, and the victories. It’s not as it used to be, in "Ninety-eight, whin the boys was ready fur fun, all the days in the week, and no work to be had furloveormoney. Now the war’s taken the best of them, and what’s left won’t fight.” Master Jack rose from the seat, from which he had been questioning the fisherman, and said, in a resolute way: ‘Sink or swim, I’m going to try it, Mat. When the head of the house calls me, it is my duty to obey; and, if I take my life in my hand, itis no more thanI have done, many a time before, for less cause, I will go and see sg pct at seemed to be half-gratified and half- afraid of the result; for he said: ‘* Don’t be resky, Master Jack. Sure it isn’t a matter of life and death to see him, yet awhile. But av ye feel ye must, thin I'll tell ye what yedo. Come aboord the Faugh-a-Ballagh, and we'll go into the bay, as n’ate ‘as anything; and sorra a bit the wiser will any of the gaugers be, when they see ye, for we'll lave Tim Bod- kin here, and ye can be Tim yerself.” Master Jack only shook his head as he said: **T have a better plan than that, Mat. I shall take the Wasp in, with all sail set, and all I want is a signal that there is no man-of-war in the bay.” ‘And sure that’s ’asy enough,” responded Mat. ‘“T’ll take the boat, forninst ye, into the bey; and, av I foind that there’s anything there that might hurt ye, P’ll light the ould beacon that hasn’t been lit sence ’Ninety-eight. How'll that do, yer honor?” ‘‘Ramously, Mat,” was the reply in a tone of voice that showed the satisfaction of Master Jack. “If I can only get a chance to play half the mischief that was played here by Paul Jones, thirty-five years ago, I shall be satisfied. ‘Twould be a proud day, when I put my name alongside his, Mat.” Mat crossed himself piously as he ejaculated: ‘*The saints have ye in their keeping, Master Jack. Yelll do it pet I believe. And after all, he was not a r’ale lake, of Castle Blake.” CHAPTER ITI. CASTLE BLAKE. Away from the shores of the Bay of Galway, in the midst of the moors, stood a seep pile of buildings, more than half ruinous. ‘ound it stretched the wilds of Connemara, bare plains, where the salt wind, from the sea, moaned across the turf, and the only live thing ‘seen was an occasional plover, ora gull which had wandered in from the coast, and was hunting for something to eat, which it found not, In the midst of these wild moors, the pile of building, of which we have spoken, had a cheer- ing effect, as the only object of interest in the whole landscape. Around it flourished trees when there were no trees anywhere else; an the lowing of cattle, with the occasional neigh of a horse, from under the shelter of the out- houses that surrounded it, showed the presence = somal as well as human beings, at Castle ake, To one who came close to it, there was an air of desolation and mourning about the whole pidce, in good keeping with the wild and melancholy landers around the house, Once it had baen incl with a wall; but the greater part of this had fallen, and there were traces, in places, that this wall had been battered down by. vio- lence, in some former time; for more than one old rusty cannon-ball, half hidden in the piles of rubbish in the court, showed where Crom- well’s men had held riot, in the old days. At the remains of the old gateway stood an old man, who had the appearance of being a part of the ruin, so worn and prey was he, and he was peering under his closed hands over the moors at the setting sun, when he uttered a low ery and exclaimed: ‘ And they’re comin’ et last.” He had seen, at a distance from the house, a man on horseback, with a boy running in front of the horse, that told of a traveler and his ‘* gossoon,” who had crossed the bogs from Gal- way to visit Castle Blake. Id Barney O'Toole had, been huntsman, for the castle in the days before the rebellion, when the master of that once imposing edifice had ‘kept the hounds,” and he had ever after re- tained the old red coat and corduroysthat mark- ed his office in the days when horses were as plentiful in the stables of Castle Blake as in the tents of an Arab encampment. Barney was glad when he saw a horse coming to the castle, for it was the pleasure, of his life to attend to horses, and he did not mind the lack, of dignity that it implied in him for the huntsman to be officiating as hostler. The stranger who rode up to the door of the castle was apparently a soldier, for he had the sage air of stiff authority habitual on the aces of those who are used to lording it over their fellows, and he wore a black stock, in those days held sacred to the military profession. He was mounted of a hack-horse from one of the town stables, followed by little Terence McCoy, who had trotted ail the way from the town of Galway that morning, over the bogs of Connemara, at the rate of ten miles an hour, “without turning a hair,” in jockey phrase. The stranger rode up and threw his bridle to Terence, while he said to old Barney: “Is the Blake at home to-day, daddy?” _ stn oe Barney eyed him all over. ina sin r, fur- tive way, for the other had the look of a Briton and Barney hated an, Englishman as he hated ison. The old man looked as sour as he possi- ly could, as he replied: *“ And he.is, sir; but the doctor says that his honor must not be disturbed by anybody, for he’s very sick, sir, Av ye'll give yer card, sir, yecan see Father Maginnes, sir, and that same’s his honor’s confessor.” The traveler twitched bis face in a curious way. Barney could see, now that he looked at him closer, that he. was about forty, and that he wore spectacles, though he had such a military air. **T don’t want to see Father Tom,” he absent- ly answered, as if he were thinking of some- thing else altogether. ‘‘I want tosee the Blake himself.” “Then yer honor’ll have to wait,” said Bar- ney, coldly, getting in the way of the traveler as he dismounted from bis horse and advanced to open the door of the inner bouse, unbidden— a thing which was to Barney’s eyes as near high treason as anything could be done by human being. ‘It’s the orders of the doctor that no one’s to.see him till he comes again. And Tl have to send for Father Tom to see ye. Avit’s business, his riverence will attend to it.” The traveler turned to the obstinate old man and said to him in a more coaxing tone: . **Come, come, old man; I want to see the Blake. If he knew I was bere he would be half crazy to see me. Let me in now, and here is a guinea for your pains.” Barney’s eyes flashed as he saw the bright gold which the stranger showed him, for ths temptation was a tone. The old man had not seen a guinea for ever so long, and thesight dazzled him. Nevertheless, he turned his head resolutely away from the sight and said, in the same obstinate way as before: “ Yecan’t see him, sir, and that’s flat. He don’t want tosee any of the cursed Sassenachs that killed his son’and ruined Castle Blake. Til go call Father Tom, av ye pl’ase: but ye don’t we : another step that way, Dye hear that, sir The stranger, who was a tall, powerfully- built man, who looked as if he could have pitched the huntsman over the roof of the barn with ease, nevertheless paused at the resolute at- titude of thé plucky little man, and said, in a manner that betokened’ amusement: ‘Why, confound it, Barney, yu don’t ap- pear to remember me at all, and you are the same old Barney as ever. Let me in, and don’t make an ass of be lag any more. You'll be sorry for it, if Ihave to knock you down, you know, you old sinner.” In a moment the peppery old man had jum ed back to the lodge from which he had issued, and confronted the other with a formidable cudgel of the real Irish blackthorn, in his hand, with which he began to dance back and forth in front of the stranger, singing, in a low, meundering sort of tone: ‘«* With that he gave his oyponent astroke upon the nose, From which the gore, in streams of red, most beautifully flows; ; Aha, he cries, my gallant boy, with you that don’t agree! Take that, bold Cooper, do remimber brave old Donnelly-y-y-y.’” There was something so ludicrous in the abso- lutely serene courage of the little old huntsman, as he flourished his shillalah close to the nose of a man big enough to eat him up, that the stran- ger, who fora moment had frowned, as if he were angry, threw off his ill-humor and burst out laughing loudly, in the midst of which he was surprised by the voice of some one behind him, saying gravely: “ Barney O'Toole, aren’t ye ashamed of ni self to be goin’ on, at your time of life, like that? Put down yer stick, and hould yer whist.” Barney and the stranger turned instinctively t the words and saw, by the old door of the principal building that answered to the hall, a venerable man of ecclesiastical aspect, who had on the ee eassock of the priest then in com- mon use all over Europe, and was scanning the stranger closely through his spectacles. Barney seemed to be a little ashamed to have been caught, at bis time of life, shaking a stick and singing the ballad of ‘Cooper and Donnel- ly,” so he Lyd ut the formidable blackthorn bebind him, and slipped away, with the remark to the stranger: “ And that’s Father Tom, sir.” The stranger advanced to meet the ecclesias- tic, who, on bis part, greeted him with a smile, as he said: ‘¢You are welcome to Castle Blake, sir; what is left of it. “You will please to walk in, and we will see what we can do for ye. Wecan offer ye some good shooting; but the fox-hounds are all gone, sir; and it’s little the sheriff left us, whin he put in the last distrass. Come in, sir; come in.” Father Tom Maginness led the way into a large and dilapidated hall, where the stains on the walls showed that the rain found frequent admission; took him into @ ropm, where a fire te eee ae 7 4 . 2
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ane ef black bog-oak was burning, in a fireplace that would have made the mouth of an esthete of the present day water, for longing of its quaint err ee’ and planted him down in a arge chair, by a table, by the side of a large | jug, that was emitting a strong odor of whisky and water, with a little sugar, the whole at a boiling heat, before he addressed a single ques- tion to him. Even then, he poured out a brimming tumbler of the punch, and set it before his guest, before he spoke. ** Your very good health, sir, and now may I ask to what the castle is indebted for the pleas- ure of this visit?” The stranger favored him with a scrutinizing glance, before he answered, which he did with great deliberation, and a singular look in his eyes, as if something amused him | Pipamnd ** T should have thought you could bave guessed that, Father Tom. It’s not so many years ago you told a young man that if he ever had the opportunity, and didn’t do what he could to kill an Englishman, be was no true son of Jreland. Ah, Fatber Tom, you were of a quick temper in those days, and how you did hate the Crown! I bave half a mind to exposs you now to the Castle, at Dublin; and then you know what would ha to you.” Father Tom looked at his guest in a manner that showed he was both mystified and fright- ened, as he faltered: « And your honor is jokin’, of coorse. Sure there never was a8 man that was more loyal than meself, sir; and if ye’re from Dublin— ‘That's where Iam from,” the other replied, in the same half-jesting and half-earnest tone; **and I have come to see the Blake, to find out whether he has heard anything about bis son, or rather bis grandson, who went away to America. They tell me, father, that he has gone into the enemy’s navy, and that he has come here, to emulate the career of the pirate, Paul Jones.. Have you heard anything of it?’ Father Tom drew in bis breath with a sort of frightened look, as he replied: “No, sir, nothing at all, nothing at all, I as- sure you. I bave not heard of the unfortunate young man. Surely you can cherish no malice against him, can you?) He was a baby when his father was executed for treason; and his poor mother died of grief when she heard the news. Is not that enough, but the Castle at Dublin must come to his grandfather, in his old age and almost entire helplessness, to hound him for the actions of a ‘beg man who is no longer under the jurisdiction of the British Crown?” * Pardon me,” interrupted the stranger brisk- Re ‘** Once a subject, always a subject, is good old common law doctrine, isn’t it, father? If thts young Blake comes back, he will put his head into the lion’s mouth. I want to know if you have heard anything about his coming back yet. Tant’s all,” Father Tom turned paler than before, as he said hastily: ‘*How should I know anything about his movements, sir? He is in America, I under- stand.” The stranger suddenly rose from his seat, showing the frame of a man of great areas, and approached the priest till they were less than two feet apart, when he asked bim, in low and very significant tones, with his eyes fixed on those of the ecclesiastic: ‘Will you swear, on your oath as a priest, that you bave not heard a word from Johnston Blakely this year?” ““Why, how should J hear from him, sir?” the priest protested, with a subtle evasion of the real questiou that the other noted in an instant, ** How could I receive news from him, sir, when as I said before, I do not know where he is, and whether he be alive or dead?” The stranger kept his hand on the shoulder of the old priest, where be had laid it in the act of questioning him, and continued: ‘*He is here on the coast somewhere; and I have been sent to look for him. If he comes inside the gates of this place, and you will give mae a signal, which I sball explain to you, I will assure, you the reward of twenty thousand unds,” The priest looked at the stranger, as of old Hazael might have looked on Elisha, as he asked “if oe was a dog to do such a thing,” but his only tnswer to the proposition was: I have told you, sir, that I do not know what has become of the poor young gentleman whom you mention, but this you may be sure Sar AS AB aI) won wove eo digibens Mineo The Lost Corvette. eS A nn 5 ARR eo EE EE REE nen sen He released his hold on the priest’s shoulder and, with a quick motion of both hands, stripped off the disguise that had hitherto hidden him his eyes were thrown down; the grizzled wig disappeared; while, as soon as these artificia aids were removed, tbe wrinkles that had mark- ed his face were easily seen to be made up with aint. 9 Father Tom watched the process, as it went on, with great wonder, till the stranger turned round on him and asked, in a tone of voice that he in vain tried to render steady: ‘* And don’t you know me yet, father?” The old priest stared at him for several moments, as if he had seen a ghost; then he started up and Hugged the young man in bis LS of, that, if he enters this house, all the power of | the Dublin Castle is not enough to make me betray the beir of the castle, the man who will s00n be the Blake himself.” The stranger started slightly as he asked: '“ What do you mean by that, sir? what do you mean?” - ‘*] mean, sir,” replied the priest solemnly, “that, before many hours are over, the poor | his head as it lay there with¢ old man, whose life, for so many years now, has been a scene of never-ending misery, will be no more, and that the exiled grandson will be | soon, but the time the beir of Castle Biake, if he chooses to come and claim hia inheritance,” ® His words produced an immediate and surpris- ing effect on the stranger, — arms, sobbing as if nis heart would break, and muttering: ““Oh, Master Jack, Master Jack; and why didn’t ye come before? It’s too late, alanah, too late. He’s going fast,” ‘Take me to him, then,” replied the young man hurriedly. ‘If there is no time to lose, let us be quick. I have come to receive the last words of the head of my race, and if my foes knew that I was here, my father’s doom would await me, no doubt. Take me to my grandfather at once, father.” The old priest hesitated not a moment. It was nothing to him that he could not explain how the heir of the castle, whom be had thought thousands of miles away, had suddenly turned op in the midst of his foes, to visit the last of his race, Father Tom Maginness had been brought up as a retainer of the old family, in which his father before bim had been a tenant, and to which he owed the charity which bad made him a student and priest, when all the rest of his family were peasants, He led the way to the sick-chamber. CHAPTER IV. THE DEATH OF A PATRIOT. In the only room, in the old pile of buildings known as ‘‘ Castle Blake,” that could be spoken of as comfortable, because it had whole roof and walls and was weather-tight all through, lay an old man with a venerable face and long white hair, the pallor of death on his features. Around the room were hung mementoes of the past glories of the house of Blake. Portraits of gentlemen in the costumes of the reigns of the Stuarts, and one of a knight in armor, hung on the walls, while the swords of the ancestors of the family, from the basket-hilted rapier of the seventeenth century to the clumsy and in- convenient hanger that prevailed in the times of the American Revolution, showed that soldiers had been in the family for many years. Opposite to the face of the dying man hung one portrait, which had a particularly ghastly effect in the place in which it was. It represented a young man in the dress of the French Revolution, with powdered hair, .bandsome and smiling in appearance; but the lagend written under the picture was what made it so ghastly. Right across the foot of the painting, which was nearly life size, ran the inscripticn: ‘‘ JOHNSTON BuakE, hung 1798.” While beneath this was placed, carefull framed and glazed, a reaeey 4 wood-eut of a gal- lows with a man hanging thereon, around which was printed: “The han of Johnston Blake, the traitor, at the castle. save the King!” lt was on this picture that the eyes of the dy- ing man were resting, and his look was that of a fond affection no shame could disturb, for he kept murmurixg to himself as be lay: ‘* Not long now, Jack—not long now.” The setting sun was shining in at the window, and the light was in his eyes, but he did not seem to be sensible of it till he beard a coms by the bedside, and Father Tom came in by im, to say quietly: ‘The young Blake has come, sir.” In a moment the eyes of the old man bad opened widely, and he turned them with an ex- pression of profound thankfulness on the figure of the young man who had been called ‘* Master Jack,” who came into the room and stood by the bed, looking down on the sufferer witb bis es full of tears, but with an air of solemnity that = not allow him to let them fall to distress the other, The Blake stretched out bis hand with a strength that was astonishing, considering his near approach to death, and said: “T knew ye would come, ny The Blakes of the castle are going down to the grave fast, but thev are not dead yet.” The young man cast himself down On bis knees by the bedside, and buried his face in the bed- clothes as if he found it impossible to stop the tears that would flow, avd the old man patted ht, caressing motion, as he murmured: “Don’t weep, boy; don’t weep. ’Twill be over 1s coming when you will be giad of it.” He paused and seemed to be gathering looker | togoon. Presently he said in o faint tone, that ’ showed how his strength was failing: | ** Jack, look over at your father’s picture.” | ‘Then, as the young man by the bedside raised | his head and looked at the portrait of the man fromtheother, The spectacles tbat had shielded | who had been hanged, it might be seen that | there was a wonderful likeness between them. | ‘The English hung your father, Jack, and at- tainted ail his family from him down. They left me, because I had always been faithful to the British crown. Now the Blakes of the cas- tle will be no more, The old place will go. The king will take it, or some of his favorites, and there will no more be heard of the name that was once so proud. What are you going to do, my boy, now that it is all gone?’ Jobnston Blake raised his head, and Jooked at the dying man with a geze that showed bis | spirit was not of the kind that quails before dif- ficulty or danger, as be answered: ‘‘ What is gone is gone, If I could get it back by denying what my father did, I would not do it. The Blakes of Castle Blake may be gone; but the Blake that once swept the sea, and made the name famous forever, is alive yet, and will never die,” The old man smiled faintly as he listened to the proud words, and turned to Father Tom, who: was' listening to the conversation. ‘‘Ye hear bim; ye bear him? He is his father’s son,” was all he said. Young Blake threw up his bead proudly. ‘“T am my father’s son, and the Englisb killed my father. They bave done all they could to disgrace his son, and they are going. to do all they canin future. Tell me, Sr ather, who was the man who gare the information that hung my father? I have tried in vain to get it; a have never been able, since I was of age to ask, The eye of the old man blazed up, as he an- swered: “oT was the Bad Manners, as they called him. He was the man, pretended to be a frierd of your father, and betrayed him to the men who were hounding all Irishmen to their doom. ’T was Lord Humphrey Manners, who is now the Duke of Rutland. If ever ye get a chance to strike at a nners, remember that it was a Manners that got your father bung, and it was a Manners that stole his confidence and’ be- trayed it.” Young Blake listened to the words, and said, owly: “I will not forget, you may be sure. What do you wish me to do, after you are’gone? There is all this property of the family, that ‘no one can take from us. Do you wish it to be left to go into the hands of the English?” The old man cast a glance around the room, with the indifferent air of one to whom the near approach of death makes all things of sma!) importance, and said: “They’re all gone, boy, and why should we be anxious to keep them in mind? The castle is gone with me, and the money was gone lon ago. Let the vame perish, and rise again with you, in the New World, so that men may forget there ever was a Blake of Castle Blake, and think only of the great Blake, when they men- tion the name,” The younger man bowed, as he heard the words Of the older one, and replied Lee “You are the head of the house, and I am bound to obey your order. You say that it shall perish, and that the name of Blake shall no more be heard here. Be it so,” Then he added: “Is there anything you would like me to ig “4 set of . be So be ie e old squire seem reflectin minute, before he said anything in reply to ‘the question of his descendant, and when be spoke it was with an air as if be were trying to recall something that was past, and which his failing memory made difficult to bring back, aaene ad 4! aa slowly, “there is some- thing I want to tell you, and I can it exctly. . ees Ireland.” Bplay caer he face o é younger m ones, a he jnculated: 4 an lighted up at ‘ an can tell what that i Dn grandfatber. You wish to remind phir oat my country, and to strive for her freedom. You can be sure of that; sure of that.” tha tharenay fae to him with a faint smile, a > Dut as soon as the fie had finished, the older one replied:” desate 7s “Thank ye; — bave reminded me of what I was forgetting, Jack, You are now in another country. You were driven there by misfortune; but, none the less, you have re. ceived kindness there, and owe ita debt. It is not for you to struggle for this country any longer. Let the dead bury their dead. You are an American now, and should do what you ean for the country that took you in, when your own sent you forth to die, You are at war with the English now; but when the peace comes, you must forget that you ever were born in Ireland, America is your country now, and the more you look back at the pest, the harder will be the future.” He paused a moment,“ts if to gain strength, “T loved Ireland myself, God knows; but I and continued: have seen for years and years that ber freedom muss come only in the course of ages, as the sl 3 eA Sac eal - 2 NN tee rae
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4 ey a ee ae ee ’ for the privilege of seeing my onl The Lost Corvette. 5 strength of England decreases. Devote your- self to the h of America, and remember, everything helps that weakens England. If Treland is ever to be free, it- will only be when England is freer, Fight for liberty wherever bs are, my boy, and the time will come. God less old Ireland’” He dropped his band back on the pillow whence he had raised it, and appeared to be gasping for breath. Young Blake called to Father Tom, in an agitated way; but when the riest came forward, with the crucifix in his and, the face of theold man had become of that bluish pallor that is the sure token of com- ing dissolution. ith a desperate effort he rallied so far as to hold out his hand to his grandson, who kissed it with fervor, Then he whispered: ‘“‘Remember. A new name; a new name,” The younger man caught the hand of the older one, and spoke to him, as if he would im- press the meaning of his words on the dulled senses of the other. “Grandfather,” he said, ‘‘ you are the last man who has the right to becalled ‘ The Blake.’ I shal] neverassume the title. But this I swear: I will avenge the murder of my father on every Manners that I meet, and Ireland shall be free et. ~ “3 The words seemed to have a comforting effect on the dying man, for he smiled faintly. Then his glance became vacant, and the last Blake of Castle Blake was gone to his long home, Ere the breath was fairly out of his body, the sound of a horse’s feet at full gallop was naka outside the gate, and Father Tom turned pale, as he looked at the young man. CHAPTER V. A BOLD RIDE. THERE lay the dead man, on the couch, and Father Tom rose, as be heard the galloping hoofs, and went swiftly to the window. In the next moment he had come back to the young man, who stood as if paralyzed by the sudden death of his relative. Father Tom put his hand on the arm of the other, and said, hastily: ‘Tis the officers are comin’, boy. What’ll ye do, now. We must bide ye. Come with me. They won’t suspect ye. Put on the dis- guise, , Young Blake shook his head, as he answered: “The time for disguises is past, now, Father Tom. As long as he was alive, I could crouch, living rela- tive. Now, it is different. The Blake is dead, and the name with him. From henceforth, I am what they have made me.” As he spoke, be stripped off the brown sur- tout which he had worn, and showed under- neath it the uniform of an officer of some kind, that Father Tom had not seen yet. ' With a rapid and nervous stride he went to the window and looked out, to see below the casement three men who were dismounting from their horses, and preparing to enter the house. ——— That they were officers of some kind was ap- parent from their dress; but they were not soldiers, and had no arms visible, : ‘Who are they?” he asked Father Tom, and thé priest sail; “They’re the crown officers, Master Jack, and they’ve come to put the seals on the pro erty. ey must have heard that the Bia za was dying. What’ll we do, sir? You are the Blake now.” The young man shook his head. “Tbe Blake is dead, and there is no more Blake now. I have changed my name. I am going to fight my way out of this nest of ty- rants. As he spoke he deliberately took from one of his pockets a pair of small pistols, and began to examine the priming. Father Tom uttered an exclamation of hor- ror, “Ye won't try to fight them, sir? They'll have the hue and cry after ye, and ye’ll be pro- claimed for treason, as yer father was,” FL = young man laughed bitterly, as he re- rted: ‘Let them proclaim me. Icome from a place where they care as much for a British procla- mation as they do for an edict of the Emperor of Chiva. Iam going out, Father Tom.” He turned to the bed, on which lay the corpse of his grandfather, and softly kissed the fore- head of the dead man, saying: “*Good-by, grandfather. You suffered much and your reward will be the greater, From henceforth, my course is clear,” Then he turned to the priest, and wrung his hand hard. “Father Maginness,” he said, ‘“‘you have served the family faithfully; and we are not ungrateful. Whatever is in this house is yours, if the English wolves will allow you to take it. Farewell. Then he strode from the room and went down- stairs, where he found the three officers, who had entered in the mean time, and who saw bim, in the dim light of the dark passa . “Js the Blake dead yet, sir?” ask one of | ee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee ee them, as he saw the dark figure coming toward him. ‘** Yes, sir,” responded the other, stiffly; and he brushed past the three men, when one of them called out to the others: “* Who's that man?” Young Blake tarried no more to let them ask questions; but passed out into the open court before the house, where he found the ‘‘ gossoon,” who had come with him, still holding his horse, and staring at the animals that had been brought by the revenue officers. Without bur- rying his pace, or exhibiting any concern, the young man strode to his horse, and had almost | mounted, when one of the officers, who had followed him to the open air, called out: “There is something wrong, O’Grady. Stop that man.” ' Without noticing the call, the young man put his foot in the stirrup-iron and swung him- self into the saddle, Tien he turned round to the astonished offi- cers, and revealed to them the full uniform of an American naval officer, calling out: ‘*Good-day, gentlemen. I am Captain Jobn- ston Blakeley of the sloop-of-war Wasp, now ly- ing in the bay. Good-by!” With that he turned his horse and cantered away, as cool as if he was on a pleasure ride, and the amazed officers, after a mute pause of angry incredulity, rushed to their horses, and cried out: “*Catch him, dead or alive!” Then they mounted and dasbed after the fugi- tive, who took the road across the bogs of Con- nemara, with a directness of course that showed he thought he knew the country, no matter how unfounded his confidence might be. He did not even hurry bis pace, though the officers were coming up fast behind bim, but he turned his animal into the bogs with a boldness that surprised even the gossoon that had come with him, while the officers, with a determina- tion to catch the man who had so boldly an- nounced himself as an enemy, in the heart of the country, followed him into the bogs with equal ardor. rom tussock to tussock of turf, the back- horse sprung, as if he knew the way as well as the man who rode him, and the horses of the bailiffs, who followed him, were very soon in difficulties, from not following the track with sufficient closeness. Whenever they varied in the least from the hoof-marks of the horse in front, they came to grief, and lost time in get- ing out of the holes into which their rashness had Jed them. In this way they lost time and distance in the race, and, by the time they had traversed a mile or two, they were not so near as when they had started. The leader seemed inclined to oe up the chase as hopeless; but the second man kept shouting: ‘‘ Keep it to him, boys, we'll catch him at the Run, we'll catch kim at the Run.” The, Run, otherwise the Black Run, was a little stream, which had been formed, in some former time, by a deep drain, and which bad widened into a perennial stream, that had a bridge over it, by the only road, in that part of the country, which led to Galway Bay. At last, after a long chase through the bog, in which the officers had more than once come within an ace of being mired for good, the stone bridge was descried in front, and the sil- ver line of the Run, as it glittered in the even- ing sun, was visible. he fugitive horseman paused at the line of the bridge, and waited for his pursuers to come up. which they did very soon. He was on the bridge, and they were below him. Beyond him stretched the high-road, once on which, it would be a question of speed, and he saw that the officers were better mounted than himself. They had blooded horses, and his own wasbuta hack. Hitherto he had had the ad- vantage of being in a place where be knew the pornen when they did not, and now that ad- vantage was to be lost, The young man turned to the faithful gos- soon who had come with him, all the way from Galway, and was now breathing bard, as if he had been doing his best. ; ‘‘How much does the master want for this horse, Patsey?” he asked. Patsey scratched his head, as he answered: ‘“‘Sorra one o’ me knows, sir. I’m thinkin’ he won't be askin’ much, after to~lay gets over. The b’aste’s goin’ to get shot, I’m tbinkin’.” The fugitive saw that the conjecture was about to be verified, for, as the men in pursuit came up to the foot of the bridge, he could see they were pe | the pits which they bad under their coats, but which they had not been able to get near enough to use, so far. ‘* Well, Patsey,” he said, good bumoredly, as he put his hand into his pocket, ‘‘I shall give you twenty pounds for bim, in case you never see him again. Here, take the money.” He threw the boy a little bundle of notes, and added: ‘‘The horse is mine, Now get out of the way, for there’s going to be a sbindy here.” atsey saw that he was in earnest; for the stranger drew from his pocket a pair of emall pistols, and began to make bis preparations to defend the bridge, with as much coolness as if he was doing the most commonplace thing in the world. The gossoon got out of the way, with all the promptitude of a Texas barkeeper, in modern times, when two gentlemen have'a,disagreement at cards, and begin to pull out their weapons, He ducked under the stone coping of the bridge, and hid himself, in such a position that he could see the whole fight, without being within range of the missiles that he anticipated were about to fly. Meantime, the three officers, who had got stuck fast in the last piece of bog, got out and a to climb the bank, to gain the bridge. s they cameon, the stranger hailed them, “Gentlemen,” he cried out, ‘‘I warn you to go back. There is nothing to gain from me. If you want to have a figbt, you will get all you want. Keep back, and let me go my way, and I will let you go yours,” The only reply of the revenue officers, who thought,that they had got a valuable prisoner before them, was to come out of the bog end begin to climb the bank together. Then the stranger on the bridge raised bis pis- tol and sighted it, with a cool precision that was very different from the way in which pis- tols were generally used in those days. There was a flash and a report. Down went the borse of the foremost officer, shot through the brain; and, before the echo of the shot had fully died away, came another, and down went the second animal. Then the stranger laughed, and rode off at a canter, coolly reloading his pistols as he went, while the only mounted officer who was left, was so much astonisbed and demoralized, at the sudden and unlooked for disaster, that had overtaken his comrades, that he forgot to fire bis own oar at the horse of the fugitive, till it was too late for an effective aim, and the figure of the stranger was seen down the road, gayly cantering away out of danger. Then his comrades called out to bim savagely “not to let himself be beaten like that,” and he set off at a gallop, to overtake the fugitive. In those days of flint-locks and priming, the task of reloading a pistol from a galloping horse was one that very few men could per- form. The pursuing officer, being the best mounted, came up with the fugitive in the first mile, and shouted to him to ‘“ surrender,” covering him with a pistol, the while. The only answer of the fugitive was to wheel round in his saddle, and wave his hand, as much as to invite the other to come alongside, The officer accepted the invitation, pisto] in hand, not daring to throw away a shot, and came close up beside the other, when he was surprised to seethat the fugitive bad put bis eset ener s into his pocket, and was apparent- y unarmed. The next minute, he was going to put his hand on the collar of the ree when the lat- ter suddenly turned round in his saddle as he rode, and gave his horse a twitch of the bridle which made the animal swerve aside, The officer fired, and missed, in his confusion; then, with a sudden turn that showed the fugitive was an accomplished horseman, the revenue officer found himself confronted by a man of such enormous strength, that he was thrown out of his saddle and on the ground by a single blow, and the stranger rode off in triumph, leading his pursuer’s horse with him. CHAPTER VI. HANDSOME JACK. Lorp JOHN MANNER’S wus a man of com- manding personal presence, called ‘‘ Handsome Jack” in the navy, from the graces which be a He was the sop of the Duke of Rut- and and heir apparent to the dukedom. Very few men of his expectations would have con- descended to work, except iv Parliament, but there was something in the Manners family, that kept them at labor, when other of the noble wore gs were content to live on their glories at ome, This sometbing was the fact that the Duke of Rutland wes the poorest duke in England, as the county from which he took his title was the smallest of the counties. There was always a Manners in the army or navy, and they were well known for daring. The most distinguished of the family, before the date of our story, was the Marquis of Granby, whose title was only one of courtesy, and who would have been a duke, had he lived long enough. His nephew, Lord John Menners, was a ca’ tain in the navy, vet too proud to take a small vessel if he could not get a large one, at a time when the British navy was the first in the world, and when its service was sought by every person who had any interest to advance him. Lord John Manners was stepping into his gig in the harbor of Plymouth, conversing earnest- ly with a man of a weazened and sneaking ap- pearance, who was telling him something that evidently surprised the — very much, ‘Come with me, then, Fisher,” be said, as he stepped on board the gig, that lay by the steps, **[ can send you ashore by the bum-boat, if eg eve,
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= The Lost Corvette. Pe aia rae Nn cl) UR | ete I BH De NS a ny AO A A 5 Re RI Ne em ‘ ie et eed “ x oni ai P= af Cae ea: s rt , ine r 4 wi you want to go; but I can’t lose a moment’s time, if what you say is true.” “Your venom 8 can rely on it that it is true,” said Fisher, with an expression of profound conviction.. ‘‘The officer don’t often make mistakes, and the intelligence was positive.” He followed the young nobleman aboard the boat as he spoke, and sat down by him in the stern sheets, while he continued in a low tone, that the sailors might not hear and understand: “The semaphore message was as plain as ever I saw anything. It read that the rebel Blake, who had been attainted for so many ears, had made his appearance on the coast of reland, and bad been seen at the house of his grandfather. It seems that the officers of the chancellor had gone there, to put the seals on everything, the old man being dead; and they found the he gg| man there, trying to save what he could, it is supposed, from the wreck. Well, he got off and escaped; but the strangest thing is that the fellow turned out to be the captain of a Yankee ship, that has been hang- ing round the channel for some time as tliey think.” lg John laughed with some scorn, as he said: ; “IT thought they had enough of that, since we took the Argus. It is but a poor return the Yankees are getting for their pains, when they come to this st Paul Jones is one thing; but there are not many Paul Joneses in the world. What sort of a ship is this Yankee, that is so bold?” Fisher put his mouth close to the captain’s ear, as he said: “It’s not the ship, my lord; but don’s you know what is the matter between the captain and your—his grace, I mean?” The young captain turned and looked at his companion with some surprise, saying: Cd Ko: what do you mean?” Fisher seemed to be a little embarrassed, as he said: “Tf your lordship will excuse me, I would rather not speak before the men. It is a family secret,” Whatever the reason of the change, the oung nobleman flusbed slightly, and answered urriedly: “ All right; wait till we get aboard.” He was silent all the rest of the passage to the brig he commanded, and it was not till he bad got into his cabin, that he asked Fislier sharply: “Now then, what is it? You know and I don’t. It isa strange thing that I am always finding something that is troublesome or dis- raceful in the past; and I am never allowed to Eoow it till it is too late to do anything. Now, what is it? You were the legal adviser of the duke, in the days before be was the duke, and ou know all about it I suppose. What was he trouble that you speak about, between my father and this Yankee?’ Mr. Fisher, who had known the young cap- tain since he was a boy, and had taken a great interest in the family, was now engaged in what is called the ‘‘ secret service,” and no one knew how he lived, outside of the Government’s agents, He looked round him, in the apprehensive way which had become asecond nature, since he had been in the secret service, and said to Manners in a low tone: ‘*Are you sure that no one can hear us, my lord?” The captain went to his own state-room, and threw open the doors; then came back and said peste ‘*No matter who may be near; let me know what you mean,” Then Fisher began, in a timid way, to say: ‘*T hope that your lordship won’t be offended at what you are about to hear; but it is ony, the facts, as they stand, that I am about to tell ou, “Go on, sir,” was the proud reply. ‘As long as you tell nothing else, you may depend on it that I shall say nothing.” Tbus encouraged, the lawyer went on: “Your lordship must reflect that this is all only hearsay, and that there may be some facts on the other side, that may alter the case some- what. The fact ig. your father was, at one time, in the last century—that is not_so very long ago now, my lord—as ardent in the cause of Wilkes and liberty, as any commoner of them all, He was then only, like yourself, pre Lord John, and the late Marquis of Gran- y wasstill alive, But he was a@ triend of the men who opposed the union in Ireland, and his greatest friend was a young squire, that the called the Young Blake, in a way those Iris have. His father was the Old Blake, and the pone map was one of the chief men in the re- ion of "Ninety-eight.” “Well, well, what of it all?’ interrupted Lord John, testily. ‘‘Bring out what you are oing to, and don’t beat about the bush so ong. You want to say that the present duke, being a spendthrift, and wanting money, sold his friend. I have heard the story before, but never believed it.” Fisher came a little closer, and lowered his voice, to say; _ “Tam not the accuser of any one, my lord, but itis certain that your—the present duke— was heavily in debt at that time, and that he was an intimate friend of The Blake. It is cer- tain that he suddenly paid off his debts, and left Ireland, where he had been stopping at the house of The Blake. It is also certain that the testimony of one of the witnesses in the trial, that afterward took place, in which The Blake was finally condemned to be hung for treason, was given under the seal of secrecy, and that The Blake was betruyed to his enemies by one of his friends. Whether that friend was the prveen’ duke or not, is uncertain, but this I now, that the people in that part of the country believed it at the time, and that the odium that attached to your—tbe present duke arn not subside till he succeeded to the duke- om, Lord John nodded gloomily. He was one of those unfortunate men who, baving been cursed with a bad father, are forever uneasy under the feeling that they have to defend bim. He had listened to the disclosure of the law- yer, and now he said: “Well, I had heard all that before, and I don’t believe a word of it. If you ever hear it again from any one deny it from me, and I will back you up in all you do.” Fisher shrugged his shoulders, and answered: ““As you please, my lord, but let me warn you of one thing, that the son of the}man who was hung is yet alive, and that he is the com- mander of this very Yankee ship that they are trying to catch.” , ord John started slightly, and his face flushed, as he said: : “Glad of it; glad of it, 1 will drive the lie down his Yankee throat, The half-breed Irish traitor!” Then he strode to the door, and said to the sentry: ‘*Pass the word for the officer of the deck.” That gentleman came in very soon after, and the commander gave the curt order: ** All hands up anchor and make sail at once, sir. We must be at sea before tbe sun is an hour lower,” The surprised officer touched his cap, for the order was entirely unexpected, and more than half the: crew was on shore at liberty. The brig Reindeer had arrived at Plymouth some days before, after a cruise in the channel; and her people bad made up their minds they were to have arest for some time. Mr. Jones, the officer of the deck, was at his wit’s end what to do to obey the captain’s order in time; but he managed to send for the first lieutenant, who was on shore, and by bus- tling about, and be dikm 5 the midsbipmen half- crazy, looking round for the men, who were brought in from the town in all stages of drunk- enness, the anchor was hove short in an hour and a half from the time when the captain told the officer of the deck, and that functionary came to the door of the cabin, and touched his hat as he reported: ‘* Hove short, sir.” Lord Jobn looked up at him as if he had for- gotten all about it, and answered absently: ** What is that you say?’ Bee Jones stared at his commander, as he re- plied: **Hove short, sir. You ordered ‘the brig under way, as soon as possible: didn’t you, sir?” Lord John nodded, in the same absent way; and replied: ‘Very good, sir, Put the brig on her course to the Land's End. Call me, when you see it.” The officer of the deck noticed that the man who had accompanied the captain into the cabin from the shore had gone, and he woudered’ what was the matter with the skipper. He did nct know that Lord John had been having a fierce struggle with himself, to think that he was right in a ins out to attack the man whose father bad been ruined by the father of Lord John himself, He bad come to the conclusion that, if he did not, the man, who was now in the American service, would be able to make damaging state- ments with regard to the duke, and that it was bis duty, for the credit of the family, to stop the mouth of this officious Yankee, by taking his ship, and, if possible, killing him, so that he could say nothing derogatory to the duke. That point settled in bis own mind, be had spent some time in questioning the lawyer and oberon spy, on the news that was accessi- le about the strength of the Yankee ship. The reports were that she was of the same force as the Argus, that had been taken so recently in the English channel by the brig Pelican, and Manners had a well founded confidence in bis own powers to take any ship of the class of hisown. He had ye gen out, or Ste ie purpose of catching the Wasp, as the 0 ship was said to be es Wed and the news of the lawyer, that the captain of the Yankee was a stron personal enemy of bis father, was on, an additional incentive to the eagerness wit which be set out on bis search. uA ate THE CAPT. . Tux British brig, Reindeer, was of the largest size then usual for brigs-of-war, and mounted eighteen carronades, orignally thirty-two pound- ers, but changed for twent; ldoure ak tes bck. yard, owing to the fancied inability of the brig to hold such heavy ordnance without being racked to pieces. She carried, on her forecastle, a shifting-gun, that was used, sometimes on boat service, and more often as a chase gap. Her model was a swift one, and she had a good crew, of the kind that could be procured, at that time, in any seaport town of the English coast, when commerce was almost as dangerous as the naval service. That evening, as she stretched out of the har- bor of Plymouth, and took her way into the English channel, she had the look of a gallant young knight, going to his first battle, and her sails swelled out with a pride that made one eae that the brig was conscious of her own uty. By the time the sun set, she was well out to sea, with the tall tower of Eddystone Light- house well astern, and the rocks of Lizard Point to the north, while’ the more distant ontline of the Land’s End, behind the Lizard, could be seen, like a faint cloud on the horizon. The Reindeer was in the ‘‘ Chops of the Chan- nel,” ready to intercept anything that was oC up that body of water, with hostile in. en As the sun set, the moon rose, and the warm summer air of the southwest wind, that came in from the Atlantic Ocean, was so soft and pleas- ant, that most of the sallors, though it was not their watch on deck, had come up, and were lounging about the forecastle, some asleep, otbers more than half so, while the bri kept on her course to the southwest, with a good lookout at the mast-head, as long as the moon lasted, and two steady hands at the heel of the bow- spirit, to scan the horizon all round, At six o’clock the captain dined in state in the cabin, and, by special invitation, the first lieutenant, Mr. Bunt, shared the meal and the confidences of his superior. Mr. Bunt was a sailor of the old school, who had risen from the forecastle, in the days when there was some chance of such a thiug, and he was keenly conscious of the fact that bis com- mander was the son of a duke and his superior at home, while Lord John bad no less respect for his first lieutenant’s abilities as a sailor. Therefore Mr. Bunt was always very respect- ful to the captain, and paid more attention to his wishes than is the wont of most first liev- tenants, in his position of dry nurse, who, as a rule, were, at that time, very opinionated and obstinate, : The lamps were lit on the table of the cap- tain’s cabin, and the glitter of silver, with the sparkle of cut-glass, showed that Lord John was a rich and luxurious man;—for, though his father was the poorest duke in England, what is poverty, to a duke, may be affluence, to any oni mortal, Mr. Bunt was an elderly man, who had a habit of dropping bis H’s, of which he was not always conscious; but which he was, at the same time, striving to avoid. He had come from a rank in life in England, where the drop- ping of that useful letter is universal, and not to be hidden, yet he was forever trying to hide the fact. The captain was very gracious that evening, and plied Bant with the excellent wine which made an invitation from Lord Jchn a welcome thing to any of the brig’s officers; though they all stood in awe of the rank of their commander, as is the wont of Englishmen. “ Well, Bunt, and what do you think we have come to sea for?” asked Lord Jobn, when the wine bad been passed several times, Bunt’s tongue had been loosened and em- boldened by the wine, and he answered, without bart write: viper age mete “To ’unt for prizes, my lord, I shoul It'll be a’ard lookout, I should say, sie T e mounseers ain’t going to give us much chance and Ayer ain’t wif Sey else me can,” : **T don’t expec see a French cruise, Bunt. They are on their jaat lega, Ten after-bolder game. I have private intelligence ae hago is Pereanee thip in the channel that is coming to repeat the H r. Bunt looked wisely at the “If it’s a Yankee, my lord uh ens ard hic bes as 9 a gaye, two years ago, when the Yankees took her. , HM fell a Rs They fight like good obn frowned im 2 pa bead epelishmen that ‘rete td Pol g nation any otber. : has ever been beaten by now that, and all the rest of it; but that was because the ships were aeprovoiteead te size and everything else, Bunt: the Java was a thirty-eight, and the Constitution was a forty- four. Look at their brave Lawrence, that they made such a brag of, when be took the Peacock with the Hornet, ‘He had all the odds on his side. Broke was the man that took the starch out of bim, when he met him on some- thing of an equality, He took your brave Yan- kee in ten minutes with the Shannon, Both ships equal, and see the result,”
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4 Panty a> Lali« = s ps bs 24 ae ¥ =, eng gee . , The Lost Corvette. es 7 And the captain tossed off a bumper of wine, with an air that said: ** Answer that, if you can, oy! boy.” Bunt made no answer till be had followed the eaptain’s example, when he remarked: ‘Of course, my lord, I ain’t saying but what his majesty’s vessels are far superior to these | Yankees, man to man, but that ain’t the ques- tion now, They generally manage to get the hupper ’and of us, by ’aving the biggest ships, when they meet us, and that’s fair enough.” Lord John nodded as he replied: ‘* Of course that is all fair; but I don’t like to thhear any man quote that old Constitution to me all the time. This ship, that we are after, is another thing altogether. She is a sloop-of- war.” ‘Ow big?’ asked Bunt, gravely, with the look of an owl in daylight; for he was rapidly getting drunk. “That is the very thing that I wanted you to tell me, if you can. You were a prisoner in the Yankees’ hands for some time, and must bave beard or seen something of their ships. Did you ever hear of one called the Wasp?” Bunt nodded. ‘I should think I’ad, my lord. Why, that ‘was the brig that took the Frolic in twenty minutes, and then got taken by the Poictiers. Why, that was the talk of the ’ole squadron, at the time it ’appened. The Frolic was shot all to pieces, and the Wasp ’ad two guns less than she ’ad.” Lord Jobn uttered an incredulous oath. “Two guns less/ You mean two guns more, sir.” **T don’t mean anything of the kind, begging your lordship’s very ’umble pardon,” said Bunt, with a pragmatical obstinacy that showed the effect of the wine, ‘‘I mean that the Frolic ’ad two guns the most, and she was knocked into a cocked ’at. If it ’adn’t been for the Poic- tiers coming in, she’d ’a’ taken the Frolic into the Yankee port; but the Poictiers was a seventy-four, and even a Yankee won’t fight a seventy-four with a gun-brig.” ‘*Then there is no such ship now, in the Yan- kee navy, you mean to say?” asked the captain eagerly. Bunt shook his head. ‘*} don’t mean anything of the kind, your lordship. I mean that the old Wasp was taken in, and done for. But I remember that, just before I was exchanged, there was a talk about building a new Wasp, and a new ’Ornet, to look like the old ones: but they was to be bigger and » tave’evier guns. They was to be thesame num- ber, I believe; but they was to be thirty-twos, ‘Carronades, of course,” Lord John listened, and said, in a thoughtful ay: And we have only twenty-fours. How many guns were these new ships to carry?” “‘ Righteen, my lord, and a pair of chasers on ‘the forecastle,” ‘* And what were they to be?” “Tf they were like the old "Ornet and Wasp, ‘they was to be twelves, my lord; but, as to that. I couldn’t say positive.’ “Took here, Bunt,” said the young noble- ‘man, earnestly. ‘Suppose we should meet this Yankee, o you think we ought to fight im?’ Mr, Bunt lifted his eyebrows at the question, and answered at once: ‘*Why, of course, your lordship, Nobody ean tell what odds a British sailor may ’ave to face; but’e’as to face them, if ’e comes across them, fair. Still, 1 must say that, I shouldn't tanker after meeting the Yankee Wasp, if it’s the same that I ’eard about when I was in New York. She was going to be, what they called, out there, a screamer, Lord John drew nearer to his first officer, and his voice had a ring of sincerity that impressed Bunt deeply. “I've got to fight him, if I meet him; and I’ve got to meet him in some way, Bunt. Do you know that the Yankee hes an [risbman for a captain?’ **No, my lord,” was the rather puzzled an- swer; for Bunt saw that some confidence was coming. ‘’Ow do you know?’ “ His name is Blake, and he is the son of the ‘man that was executed for treason in ’Ninety- eight, Bunt. , The fellow is going about, telling every one that be has a grudge against the duke, my father, and I must puta stop to his impudence, for the sake of my family.” Bunt nodded, with a great deal of respect, as he said, thickly: ‘*Serve scoundrel rigbt, m’ Jor’. Th’ Yank’ scamp! T’ go tak’’way char’ct’r’ f nob’ dook! Pooh! Can’t do it; can’t do it!” And Le yes made $) ne oe greek con- tempt at the imaginary Yankee, as he spoke, Lord Jobn leaned forward to ask him: “You have seen how these Yankees fight? Tell me, what is their best point?” Bunt was quite sober enough to give a reason- able account of the action in which be bad first seen the powers of the American ships, so he un- hesitatingly answered: **Long bowls, vn A long bowls, and noth- ing else, like it, e were picked to pieces, par after spar, till the old Java was a reg’lar wreck, and the confounded Yankee had not a scratch, as if seemed,” ‘Did you try boarding?’ asked the young nobleman eagerly. Bunt shook his head. ‘‘Wish we’ad, my lord. We ’ad a lot of men on board, and we could ’ayv wiped ’em out, if we could’av fought ’em close; but that was just what they wouldn’t stand, nohow. They ept us at long bowls, till we were all cut to ieces, and then they come alongside, and we ying like a log on the water. If we could ’ave done it in the fust place, we might ’ave ’ad a chance; but, as it was the captain thougbt that ’e ’ad the best of it, any’ow, till it was too late.” Lord Jobn compressed his Le “That settles it, Bunt. hen Z meet this fellow, I am going to bring kim to close action at once, and go on board him as soonas the two get near enough. We'll sce whether British sailors are the men of Trafalgar, or not. Re- member that, whatever happens in this voyage, it is my last order that, if Z get killed on the deck, the brig is to be run on board the enemy, and that the boarders are to be relied on, at all hazirds. We can carry anything that has not twice as many men as we have.” Bunt rose as his commander spoke, for there was that in tbe demeanor of Lord John, which showed that he wished bis subordinate to retire, As be took his leave, be said: ‘* Your orders shall be obeyed, my lord, and we shall see whether they won’t end in another Argus and Pelican affair.” CHAPTER VIII. THE SMUGGLER'S YACHT, A HANDSOME iittie vacht, with a rig that showeu that she was English, was standing off and on before the entrance of the Irish Channel between St. David’s Head and the Inskar Rock, as if she were waiting for some one or stome- thing, when her lookout, at the top of the single mast, called down to the owner of the yacht, who was pacing the deck below: “There’s a sailin sight, to the southwest, sir, that looks like the ship we were to wait for.” The owner of the yacht looked up, and show- ed the faceof a man of middle age, with the mutton-chop whiskers, and fat, self-satisfied expression of the true Briton, as he answered: = Very good, John. What kind of sails has she?’ j ‘Biggest I ever seen, sir,” was the reply. **Looks asif she might be a frigate, from the spread of canvas; but the bull ain’t no more than might bein a brig-of-war.” “It must be the same”said the gentleman below, iu a thougbtful way, and half to himseif. ‘‘T wish she was safely out of the place, now she bas comein, It is too rash for any man to think of doing this kind of thing, all the while.” The old gentleman below was the bead of the smuggling firm of Bampton and Portier, which had tbe repute of having made more money, curing the Napoleonic wars, than any two men in legivimate trade in the whole United King- dom. Mr. Bampton was a man who had be- gun the world with a single desire of making money at avy hazard, as long as it was made; and he was born in a good time; for, during the war which lasted, in Europe, from the year 1790, with very little intermission, till 1814, the opportunities for oper ee, by a manor men who were willing risk the capture of their goods by the cruisers of both sides, were many and great, What with Napoleon | embargo on all English gto and England declaring the coasts of every nation, in alliance with the t Corsican, to be under a strict blockade, there was no place in the whole of Europe where the trade that was carried on had not the charm and excitement of blockade-running. Bampton was an Irishman, and Portier was a Frenchman. Both had been fishermen, and had lost all they had in the early part of the war, when both sides had cruisers and seized every- thing they could lay their bands on. The two men had made each other’s acquaint- ance in Dartmoor and Cherbourg prisons re- ctively. Bampton had been in the one and had received kindness from Portier, who at that time was a common sailor, pressed into the ser- vice. He had aided Bampton to escape, and Bampton had returned the compliment when fortune had thrown bis friend into his hands, Then it was, about the time of the battle of the Nile, that they had entered into the partnership that was afterward to prove so profitable. Be- ing both sailors and bold men, they had begun their career in open boats, and had carried over from France to England several cargoes of silks that bad enriched them by the enormous profits, to that extent that they had changed from the small boat to a lugger at the third voyage, and had been equally fortunate in running a third cargo. From the date of their acquisition of the lugger they had prospered, and the standing ‘Os wonder with all the friends of Bampton was, how he escaped from tbe officers of the customs that were on the warch on the coast, as the frigates and brigs were on the open sea. secret be never told to any one, but it was remarked that, when other waruggapere and convict- blockade-runners were tripped up an a SL ed, there were always plenty of lawyers to de- fend them; while, at the only trial in which the house of Bampton and Portier figured, no de- fense was made, and the partners gave up the © whole cargo with an equanimity that saved them from further prosecution for a good many ears, % If the secret of the house had been revealed it would ave been found to consist of wholesale bribery of the officers of customs; so thatit was the interest of these gentry to shut their eyes to every vessel that came b made it better worth their while to let them pass, for a series of years, than to make acap- « ture that would have killed the goose that laid sO Tae 4 golden eggs. Mr. Bampton’s yacht was therefore a well- known figure in the chops of the channel and in the neighboring Irish Channel, and it was the fashion for the revenue cutters not to notice it when they saw it, unless there ny to bea frigate or man-of-war of some kind in sight at the time. Yet such ‘%was the ship that was now ap- roaching the yacht, which had called from ampton the muttered wish that she ‘‘ might get outas safely as she got in.” ‘ The water at the time was studded with sails, and the shores of the two kingdoms were plain- ly in sight from the mast-bead of the yacht, though from the deck only a faint eloud show- ad the Irish coast, and that of Wales was invis- ible. The brown sails of fishing-boats, and the whiter canvas of the other craft—particularly brigs—that were scattered about gave an air of business to the sea, that was not then pos by the more dangerous English Channel, where both sides were owned by hostile nations. The ship tha was approaching the yacht was covered with sail from deck to truck, That she was a man-of-war was probable from tbe peculiar neatness of everything visible about her, and from the long pennant that streamed from her mast-head. As she advanced she threw a cloud of spray from before her bows, and cleft the little waves with a smooth- ness that showed she was a swift ship. The yacht, which bore the name ‘‘ Spray,” on her stern, laid her head toward the stranger as soon as she became visible, and in half an hour more was alongside, Then it might be seen that the ship was of large size, though not a frigate, and that she carried a number of guns on her decks, though the ports were kept closed. Over her side looked the face of a young and handsome man, who wore the uniform of Great Britain, and he hailed the yacht: ‘*Yacht aboy! Is Mr. Bampton there?” ‘Phat is myself,” was the answer, as Bamp- ton looked up and bowed. ‘‘ Will you come ae? or will you prefer that I come to you, sir?’ He spoke. with an air of respect, as if the commander of the ship was his superior; one at great variance with bis habitual air, which was decidedly purse-proud, The young man looked down with a polite smile and answered: ‘I will board you, if you please.. You are the oldest, and Iam the younger of the two,” . Then he turned away, and the shrill pipe of a boatswain’s whistle echoed through the ship, followed by the dropping of a boat from the stern davits, in which the captain of the strange sbip came to the age: It was a captain’s uniform ke wore, with a grace and dignity that showed he was a sailor to the backbone, As soon as be had gained the deck of the Spray be sent his boat away, with the order to return to the ship and await orders from the yacht, Then he turned to Bampton and said: ‘*Now to your cabin,.if you please. [ havea good deal to ask and to answer,” Bampton bowed and took his guest to the little cabin of the yacht, which was furnished with a richness that told of the position of the owner. Nevertheless, the attitude and manner of Bampton toward the young officer who entered bis cabin were those of great re and it was witha big 4 | low bow that he said: “*T hope I see The Blake well to-day.” The young stranger turned to him and an- swered: “You mean well, Mr. Bampton, and you have proved a very good friend to me in the time of need; but [ must tell hg one thing. There is no longer any one called The Blake, and my name from henceforth is Captain Blake- ley of the American navy. I have done with the past of my family in this country, and never wish to be reminded of it again.” The old smuggler colored slightly as he said: “No offense, I'm sure, sir. I had no idea that you would take itill. The title is one that is yours by right, and I thought — might like to know that it is recognized by your own countrymen.” Blakeley shook his head. .**My countrymen recognize no titles,and [have thrown away all memory of the country that was my father’s. I am Blakeley, and not The Blake, Now for your news. What are the prospects of selling prizes, if we take any?” a certain track, and _ ‘
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PTAC 3 s Sige. ee te ‘$ ‘the very reason that they _~ . ; a Sow ete at 1, ae “ + Ee aA SN Ea Jee ES f | den away in the back of a smoky city house, by oduction —— 1 he Ze ‘ aif
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er Te ae The Lost Corvette. 9 told the young lady that this was his guest “Mr. Brown, of Glasgow,” and that he ‘ would be with them for a little while before he went to nea, The girl, whose name was announced as * Rose Eynch.” accepted the introduction with a calmness that showed she was used to the world though sbe had lived a secluded life, In fact, the captain of the Wasp looked much the most embarrassed and bashful of the two. He bowed, as he acknowled the introduc- tion; but he kept staring at the young lady, in @ way that showed, eitber that he bad forgotten his manners, or that there was something about her that interested him tly. The smuggler noticed his emotion, and seemed to be satisfied that it was caused by some asso- ciation withthe past, for he very soon said to his guest: ‘Does she not remind you of some one, cap- tain?” He had forgotten that he had just introduced him ag plain * Mr. Brown,” and the girl noticed the change, for she gave a quick motion of her eyes toward her guardian, though she said nothing. Blakeley hesitated fora moment, and finally said: “‘There is a likeness; but I can hardly think it can be so. ay I ask if you were ever in Galway, Miss Lynch? Your name is one that eomes from there. Rose hesitated and looked at. Bampton, as if asking whether she should speak, and when the emuggler nodded, she answered: “T don’t know, sir. I think not. I must have been very young whenI came omny fs ‘was, for I have vo recollection of the place. My uncle says that I was.” Biakeley turned to Bampton again, to ask: ** And you are sure that the reai name of this young lady is Lynch? I know all the people of that name, and they are of the same features; but very different to these. If I had not your assurance, I should say that this young lady But what he meant to say was interrupted by @ thundering knock at the door, which made old Bampton at out to his guest in alarm: “Tt is the police knock. Rose, hide the gen- tleman at once! No time to lose!” And before Blakeley could tell what was the matter, the girl had taken bim by the arm, with an air of authority that showed she had done the thing before, and urged him from the room, . while Bampton, with every mark of trepida- tion on his face, went to the door of the house, to open to the intruder. Blakeley was hesitating what to do, when the aand of his’ conductor on his arm was relaxed, and the girl said, hurriedly: “We must come in here, sir.” They were in a part of the house where the light was dim, at the.end of a long corridor, as she spoke, and he red at the wall to which she pointed, expecting to see a door. There was;nothing of the sort; but as she repeated ** We must come in here,” he asked: “Where? I see no place to go.” Tne girl touched a place in the wall, where there was a little stain, and to Blakeley’s sur- prise, the whole side of the wall fell in, and showed him the entranée of a room, lighted by two windows that looked out on the river, though everything in it was thick with dust, ptf that it bad been unoccupied for a long 2. 4 “In! in!” she whispered to him, hurriedly. There is :0 time to lose, and you must not going in, I must get back to the parlor, or they will miss me.” bedient to ber wish he entered the room, and the next moment the wall closed in on him, and he found himself in a secret room, such as he bad thought confined to medieval castles here in the heart of plain, prosaic London, in the n gree err was evidently ly used, for the dus that lay so thick on Phige ed of that fine and poe kind that proves long accumulation. The win- dows were covered with it, and the young man when he went to them to look out on the pros- pect, found the coating so thick, that he had diffi ulty in making out anything of the pros- ti. Pew hat kind of a place he was in, and whether he was in any real danger, were thougbts that troubled the young captain very little; for he was of that desperate Lob hey S and the circum- stances that surrounded his youth had been go somber, tbat he had become careless whether he lived or died, so long as he had his revenge on the men who bad hung bis father. Treated, as the latter had been with all the ignominy that falls on a traitor in European monarchical coun- tries, it was no wonder that his son had the bitterness that marked all the conflicts of that war of 1812, and he had come to London in the hope of wreaking personal yecgrenes against the man who had been denounced by his grand- fatber on bis deathbed as the instrument of his father’s death. To make a dash and then escape, in the same adventurous way in which he had behaved in Ireland, was the idea of young Blakeley, which the smuggler, with his secretive habits, would | him, with an appearance of giving an ordinary never give his consent to anything so hazardous | message, and uncertain. Now he was in London, he found his host had not overrated the dangers. While he was thinking over all this, the sound of voices came to his ear, apparently out of the solid wall, and he recognized the tones of his host and another man. CHAPTER X. THE SPY. WuHiIz the mind of the refugee was busy in trying to find out what was the forigin of the visit_of the police, the master of the house was engaged with the gentlemen of that depart- ment in the parlor of the house in a manner that showed clearly that he was used to their visits. This time it was a man who had been at the house before, from the way in which Bampton greeted him, with the observation: ‘¢ Well, Fisher, and what do you want with me to-day? I haven’t been running avythbing in lately.” Fisher, the Government spy, who had had maps dealings with the smuggler, smiled as he said: ‘‘No, but there is a man who came in here a little whileago, and we should like to see him. Where is he?” He spoke like an old friend, and the smuggler asked him in the same tone of half-banter which he had used: ‘*How much is. it worth to see him, Fisher?’ Fisher looked at him asif he had not heard the remark, “How much is it worth for us to go away ie here, and ask no more questions?” he sai Bampton put his hand in his pocket slowly. ‘* You are the most extortionate set,” he growled. ‘‘If I served you right, I should go out of the business, and let you try to bleed some one else. I'll give the usual price and not a penny more, It’s only a poor devil of a Frenchman, who wants to do a bit of business with us. You can’t make any money out of him,” Fisher winked at him, and replied coolly: ‘* Bampton, that is a lie, and you know it as wellasl do. That fellow isa Yankee, and we know it, Frenchmen don’s talk English like be does. Come, he’s wurth twice tbe price of a Frenchman.” Bampton frowned as he heard the words, but saw that the other was in earnest, and that be would have to yield if he hoped to escape fur- ther suspicion, so he said: ‘*T don’t admit that it is anything of the sort, but don’t want to be bothered by your people, all the time, if I bappen to take a friend\into my house. Ill pay you for two, to get out of further annoyance, if you'll promise to go away, If you don’t, I shall Jet you bunt for bim, and for the money too, You know best whether that would be a money-making scheme for you; Which is it now, peace or war?’ Mr. Fisher was not aware, at the time that he spoke, that other eyes were on bim, and that other ears were listening to his words, The house of Mr. Bampton bad been altered, at the time he first took it, for the purposes it had since subserved, as the head quarters of the boldest smuggling business that had been carried on for many years, and the secret chamber that now bel panied had been made for the very et. of enabling the person concealed to ear what was being said in the between the two men, and he heard Fisher say: ‘*You can’t come that game over me, Bamp- ton. 1 know you want to keep your friend safe and if webave to search the house, it will be the worse, If he’s a Frenchman, it’s all right; but if he is a Yankee, be can only bea spy, and that is different from all the smuggling trade in the world. I have found bim out, and the men are round the house. Get him out, if you can.” Bampton said nothing for a moment; but then began in a tone of remonstrance: “See here, Fisher, this is not fair, I have paid your people to let me alone; and, if you want to make a fight, I shall not go down alone. No one knows that, better than you. If I have to turn King’s evidence, the men who have taken my money, all these years, will go down with me, You can’t afford to fight me, now. Why not let things go on as they have done for so long? 1 will give you the price you ask.” Fisher laughed, as he replied: “Tf you will do that, you will do more, I want three prices. I shall bave to pay the men, and silence their suspicions, and that costs money.” In God's name then take it,” said Bampton angrily. ‘‘ You fellows are bound to drive me out of the trade; and where will you be, when cam gone? I'll pay it, to have no further trou- e 7 “That is all right, then,” said the spy, with laugh that he bad assumed “Pay it, and 1 go the same impuden throughout tke interview. out of the house.” - “Te is nothing to “Uncle, there are mice in the pantry. What shall we do about it?” Fisher, in the suspicious way that he had ac- | quired in his business, immediately turned on her to ask: ‘* And why don’t you poison them, miss.” He greeted her with an impudent leer that brought a flush of anger to her cheek, in an in- stant, while Bampton burst out: “Look here, Fisber, I don’t want you to give us any of your talk, here. Business is business; but the women of my house are not to be spoken to by you, or any of your fellows.” The smuggler knew that the words uttered by his ward were a signal, arranged between them, to show that danger was at band, and he knew what it was. The signal ‘twice in the pantry ” meant the man was in hiding. There- fore be put on an appearance of great indigna- tion with Fisher, to cover up the return signal, which was embodied in the words that he ad- dréssed to Rose. “Set the trap then, child. It will hold all that there are,” Rose retired with the answer: ‘* Very good, sir. I will do as you say.” Fisher, who had a suspicion that there was some signa] hidden beneath the apparently-in- nocent words, kept/bis ores on the girl as she re- tired, and both ears and eyes open for anything that might give him aclew cf what was going on; but the smuggler was so cool, after his burst of apparent anger, that the spy’s sus- icions insensibly relaxed, and he allowed ampton to pay over the money demanded, when be left the house. Bampton saw him go | out of the court, and joina group of men whe | were banging sround the entrance of tne place, / with whom Fisher went away. Then Bampton burried off to the secret cham- ber, and found the door wide open, while Rose, in evident trepidation, was standing at the door- way, with a look of great anxiety on ber face. The room was empty. ‘* Where is the stranger?” the smuggler asked at once. Rose pointed out into the river. ‘* He went away, while you were bargainin with the man who came. He must bave hear something, urcle. What did you say?” “Nothing. Ihad to pay a handsome sum, to get him off from a search. But where bus the rash Sipe fool gone, Rose?” ** Sle usked me about the boat, and as soon as be heard that we bed ove, he would not be satisfied without he took it and tried to make bis escape. He told me he would not bring us into trouble on his account, and went before I could prevent him. Oh. uncle, he will be caught, and it will be such a pity.” Bampton had become very pale as he said: “It cannot be belped, Rose. 1 bave dene alt I could to insure bis eatery If he bas gone away, he bas taken bis life into his own hands, and we are no longer responsible,” Then, as the girl was turning away with a sigh, he added: ou, any way child. He has not a penny of his own, an his estate is confiscated, If it were not that I had received kindness from his father, I should not feel any interest in him at al; but, as it is, I have done what I could to render bis visit here safe, an if be bas taken bis own way, it is no fault mine.” . Rose hesitated, as she axked slowly: ‘But why did you bring him here at all? If it was so dangerous for him, it must be so for us too.” Her guardian frowned slightly as he answered: ‘**Don’t ask questions about things that you are not expected to understand, child. oung map has a claim ongme, and we are {do- ig business together. He bas ordersjfrom my best customers, for any amount of money that be may require.” “But why bas he come to London, if he is an enemy?” ** Because he has a petvnte revenge to wreak against a man whom he cannot touch. I have warned him against it, but he would not be warned, He must do ashecannow. One com- fort, he will not be found in this house.” Rose sighed as sbe replied: ‘I'm afraid not, uncle. He must have heard something thet the man said when he was talk- ing to you, for 1 found that he had opened the door and was actually coming into the room where you were.” Bampton turned pale as he ejaculated: “Coming info the room where Fisher was? Why, that would bave been suicide. Did you stop him?” “Yes, uncle, and then he told me, with a low bow, that he would doanything that I told him, but thet he could not stay in this house another minute, for that he saw he bad brought danger on the inmates. Then he went down to the boat-house, and rowed away over the river.” Bampton was evidently very uneasy at the story be heard, for he asked Rose in a tone of concern: ‘Did be not change his dress at all?’ rlor, Blakeley heard every word that passed be pton, with a groan of extreme eect ance, was just getting out bis pocket-book, when his ward came into the room, und said to he concealed from Bampton, for he knew that ‘“Not abit. He rowed off just as he was, in bis 7 | 2 y ; : Pau bigots nae : oe _ aT . i # os hy ay Se sy A et ys Aiud ae Seger e Pme: e pain bei Rah Se +.) ip? Poe ee tt ei z% bee ee Ray” Sn Pith wale : , Ae Afar: s J Ae eas Ce é 3 et 4 ORE Pala pe Maks, oo Pn OS aa yy Ales gk te I: 4c; 2%) y Dee Pap Waos ee f heoeat , ae SAN}. i fs oS het ie Ye 1955. Pit. tis: ¢ af 5 a pity = r oe : > - ae . vad - - as
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Sauer ee - = 1 blue coat and white waistcoat, as if he was going to a party.” ““Which way did he take?’ asked the smug- gler, with the same anxiety as before, Rose pointed up the river. “That way. 6 said, as he went, that I need not feel the smallest anxiety about him, as he knew the way very well, and had been on the river before. I wonder where he has gone,” Bampton sighed heavily, as he answered: “IT don’t know, child. I wash my bands of .. the consequences, If he comes to harm, it will be because he has thrown away the advice of those who know the danger.” Then he seemed to be thinking, for he mut- tered: ‘IT wonder where be can— No, that is too absurd—it is not possible; but I may as well see whether it ¢s possible.” He went out of the back part of the house, which looked on the water, and sent his search- ing glance up and down the stream among the shipping to find if he could the little wherry that usually was moored in a boat-house under the wall that bordered the river. The wherry was nowhere to be seen; but there were others ply- ing their vocation along the stream, and one of them was opposite the house, as the smuggler looked out. The waterman saw him, and scent- ing a fare, raised his hand inquiringly, being rewarded by a nod which soon brought the wherry over to the steps, when Bampton said to Rose: ‘* Keep the house till Icome back. You know what to do,” Rose nodded, and the smuggler stepped ivto the boat, and gave the order: ‘““Up the stream till I tell you to stop. I want to go up to Richmond, if I can.” CHAPTER XI. THE OLD DUKE. Down by the river Thames, at and around Richmond, are, and always have been, a num- ber of handsome residences, with broad lawns and summer-houses, where the summer is loung- ed away by the rich, in the comfort and lux- ury that no nation knows to enjoy so well as the English. The river is covered with pleasvre-boats, and the lawns slope to the water, always terminated by steps for the landing of passengers, while the little boat-houses stud the edge of the bank at every mansion. . On the evening of the day when Blakeley took his departure from the house of Bampton in the city, a gentleman in a little wherry rowed leisurely up to one of these mansions, and fast- ened his boat at the foot of the steps, to the iron ring that was placed there fur that pur- He was obviously a gentleman of leisure, eas- ily seen in those days, when the rank of the person was indicated by his clothing in a way that no longer prevails, The old knee breeches and powder of the last century had not yet gone out entirely, though it was already ac- counted old-fashioned; and the gentleman who tied his boat to the foot of the steps was one of the newer race, He wore the blue coat and brass buttons that then formed the costume of a gentleman who wished to be considered ‘‘in the style;” and his Hessian boots and tight pantaloons were well calculated to set off his figure. His hat was of the steeple-crowned pattern that had not yet gone out, and he wore a watch and dangling seals that showed him to be a man of wealth and caren ara He landed at the foot of the lawn, and strolled up the narrow path that led to the house, with the air of a man who knew his way. There was no one on the lawn, and the house had a deserted appearance, as he went toward it; but as he came within sight of the windows of the side of the mansioh, an old man came out and accosted him, civilly, with the re- mark; “Would the gentleman like to see the house? I am the porter, sir; and the picters alone is worth a shillin’.” The gentleman smiled as ho answered: “Pm not much after pictures, my friend, I came to see, if, by chance, the duke might be at home.” “No, sir. His grace ain’t at home; that is to say, not at home to everybody—” ‘ Then he is in the house?” asked the stranger, in a low tone, as he gazed at the house with an air of great eagerness. “If you can put me in communication with him for a minute or two, I am ready to give youa guinea. Do you ear The old gardener and porter—for he was both in that house—looked at the other in a doubtful way as he repeated: “A guinea? a real, golden guinea?’ The eh pC pulled out of his pocket a guinea, and held it so that the old man could see it plainly. The effect was immediate, for the glitter of avarice was so plain that the stranger put the piece back into bis pocket, with the remark: The Lost Corvette. “There it is, as you see; but ‘you can’t get it unless I see the duke, face to face,” The porter hesitated. “But his grace ain’t supposed to be at home,” he urged. “I might lose my place if I told him that any one was here. He don’t like to be disturbed, when he comes down here for uiet,” ‘Then he has come here for quiet?” asked the other keenly. ‘‘Ta course he has, or he wouldn’t say 80. He comes all alone, and keeps in’ the libr’y, He’s there now.” The stranger surveyed the house, with the same keen, eager air as before, as he asked: ‘* Which is the library window?” ‘‘Round the corner of the house. It is the only one that has the blinds up. His grace isin there. I tell ye what I could do, sir.’ ‘* Well, what?” The stranger saw that he had roused the old man’s avarice, and that be was scheming how | to earn the guinea, without, at the same time, | displeasing his master. *T could go to the river, and go out fishing. It ain’t to be supposed I have eyes in the back of my head, and if you was to get into the house like a thief, as it might be, there ain’t no | one to stop you. His grace is alone, till the | man comes up to take him home to Lunnon at | night.” “ How long before he comes?” ‘*When the bell strikes nine, and not a min- ute arter.” : The stranger pulled out the guinea and hand- ed it to the old man, saying quietly: “Tt is a fine night for fishing, and, if you stay long enough, I will leave another for you at the steps, under the loose stone at the top of the | flight. Look for it when you come back.” The old porter clutched the coin eagerly, and | hobbled away without? another word, while the stranger, after looking to see if he was really | going where he had promised, took his way to the house, and paused before the windows on one side. As he looked up, he saw that the old | man had spoken the truth. The windows at the side of the house that looked to the south, were shut up, with the curtains drawn; but one of the lower windows had the curtains with- drawn and the room within gave signs of occu- pancy. Surveying the mansion more closely, the | stranger perceived that the room was near one | of the side entrances, and without any hesitation | he took his way toward it. There was no lawn on that side of the house, | which was of the largest size and almost a pal- ace. The grass was superseded by a paved | court, and the sound of his footsteps echoed from side to side as he advanced. Straight to the door he went, and opened it, to find himself ina hall paved with marble, in a style that showed the building was the prop- ) erty of a rich and well-taught person with good taste. A little to the right of the entrance was the door, which he thought must lead to the room the porter had said was occupied; so he went to it boldly, and opened it to louk in. There, in front of a blezing wood fire, that seemed to be a work of supererogation in that hear yey weather, he saw an old gentleman in a arge chair with a book on his knees, from which he had evidently been reading when he fell asleep. The face of the mgr, changed. When he went in it had worn the frown of one who bas made up bis mind to do something desperate; but the spectacle of the sleeper in his chair wrought a sudden change, and he shook his head and muttered: “No—no, I cannot do that. It would be the act of a coward. I did not think be was so helpless,” @ came close to the old man, and looked down at him ina peculiar way. The expression of bitter bate bad given place toone of astonish. ment and something very like admiration, for the face and figure of the old man were both very handsome. He had the peculiar, short-lipped, aristocratic countenance, that marks the. man of old Norman descent, then much more common than now. His snowy hair was tied in a knot behind his head with a black bag, in the style that had not then gone out of fashion, and he wore the knee-breeches and velvet coat of a bygone gen- eration, The pny: ee looked down on bim in silence for some minutes, and then spoke aloud, in a tone that he strove to render low, so as to wake the other gradually. “ Whenever bis grace the Duke of Rutland is’ pleased to wake, 1 am here to have a little talk with bim,” he said. The old duke woke up with a start at the first word, and remained staring at the other with the expression of a man who has not quite de- cided whether he is awake or asleep. That this was the case was manifest, as he said in a dreamy way: * Blake, is it youf I am not able to go on without—” Then he suddenly stopped and rubbed his ingly; it was to save my own life. -! eyes, while he looked round the room with an air of extreme surprise. It seemed to dawn on him that something was wrong, for his gaze came back to the young man who was standing over him, and he wore a look of or terror as he whisperéd, rather’ than spoke: ‘In God’s name, who are you?” The young stranger looked him in the eye with a gaze that seemed to be penetrating his very marrow, as he retorted with the ques- tion: ‘* Whom think you that I am, duke?’ The old man stared at bim with a face that was growing more ghastly every minute, as he faltered: ‘** How should I know, sir?” The young stranger drew his facedown closer to the other, as he said slowly: ‘Look closer, duke—closer. Did you never see my face before?” ‘ The old man stared at bim, and wes unable to answer. His confusion was a better answer than words. It wasclear that he thorght he had seen the face before, ‘*'You remember it, I see,” said the stranger. “It is that of the man you murdered for giving you a hand when all the world was on the other side, Now he has come for you, and your ploce is beside him, in a dishonored tomb! As be spoke he watched the old man care- fully, and saw that he was shaking with super- stitious terror; for in those days there was a fund of faith and superstition in the higbest so- ciety, that has long since vanished. The Duke of Rutland thought he saw the ghost of the man who had befriended him in his youth, come back to him in his old age. With atremor that showed how thoroughly he was cowed, he stammered: “Blake, Blake, Iam not fit to die. Don’t be hard on me, I will do what I can to atone for the past, if you will let me. You don’t know what remorse I have suffered for that deed, into which I was forced. I did not ot you will- t was the vil eiD, Castlereagh, that persuaded me, and I did it. Blakeley (for it was that audacious man himself who had thus put his head into the mouth of the lion), saw that the old man was completely in his power, and that his fears would lead him to do anything he was bid, if the fortunate decep- tion could be kept up. In a hollow tone he an- swered, therefore: ‘Where is the child,'the girl, that was in | Galway?” The old man trembled violently. ‘* Before God, I never harmed her. She was taken away by the orders of the Lord Lieu- tenant, and I have never seen her since.” ‘‘ Liar,” interrupted Blake in his deepest tones, but with no appearance of passion. ‘ Do ou hope to deceive me? She'is here, and you ave her in your power.” ’ ‘** As God is my judge, no!” cried the old peer excitedly. “She was taken away, and the country never saw her again. I know that I have done bein ar but of that, at least, I am innocent. I would not have burt the daughter, as well as the son. The _Blake’s daughter was carried off by the orders of Castlereagh, but I heard, afterward, that the Ribbonmen bad res- cued her, and taken her off somewhere,” Blakeley, or Blake, listened to him intently, but madé no answer, and the duke, with the eagerness of one who is trying to justify him- self, added: ae “You must know this, if you see everything, now that you are dead.” Blake suddenly put his powerts band on the other’s arm, with a grip that startled the duke, as he said: ‘“Fool! Can ye not see and feel? This is The Blake himself, the son’of the man whom you be- trayed to death, and he has come to have bis re- venge, Tell me what has become of the child, or I will tear the heart out of you.” As he spoke he grasped the other, with a strength that showed how helpless the duke would be, if it came to a tussle, and shook him violently. ; “Where is the girl?’ he hissed in the duke’s oer Z ‘*Pell me or you die, and rot on a dung- hill. The old man, completely overcome by terror and remorse, stammered: is my God, I cannot; I am not able. Bampton can tejl you, if any one.” Blakeley released him instantly to ask: “Bampton? Why? how?” “He was the head of the Ribbonmen,” said the duke earnestly, ‘‘He ought to know. He bought bis freedom, as I bought mine, by trea- son to the rest, and he had his reward. Why don’t you go to him? I did but a part of it, He was the chief informer. If you ure The Blake, he is the man that you should kill.” Blakeley stared at the old man for a moment in silence, and then released him, with the re- mark: ‘“You are wrong. You are the man that it is necessary to kill now. You know who [| em, and can betray me. I must kill you, to save my own life. You understand that, duke”
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mf A of _— Fn Ne A EE RE RE RIE A RR EEE Oe ES TO we CHAPTER XII. A STRONG GHOST. THe BLAKE had expected that the old man would wilt as soon as he heard the sentence; but to his surprise the duke straightened up and said in his proudest tone: 4 “Of course you can do a murder if you please; but it would be the act of a coward, and that is what your father would never have done.” The young man laughed aloud at the other. “Tt is well for you to quote my father® to me!” he said. ‘‘ You! the man that betrayed him to a disgraceful death, can claim mercy from his son, at a time like this, in his name! You are my victim, and I am the executioner of God, to perform his vengeance.” As he spoke he grasped the old nobleman again, and the duke struggled violently, but without avail, as the strong young man choked him down into the corner of the chair, and began to strangle bim, till the eyes of the old man stood out in bis head, and his husky breath- ing told how nearly he was gone. Then, when he was powerless, the young man released him, and said sternly: “For this time you are safe; but it is only on condition that you take an oath, at once, never to betray the fact that I have been in London. Are you willing to do that to save your life?” The duke inclined his head, for he was too weak to speak, and Blakeley dictated to him an oath of secrecy, so tremendous that the old nobleman trembled while he took it; for it appealed to his superstition forcibly. When it was over Blake said to bim: “Now, duke, you have a son who is in the navy, bave you not?” “Yes,” was the low reply, with a look at the other as if he was surprised at the question. “Very well,” said Blakeley, ‘‘1 shall meet him. When you hear that he has gone, and that your son was killed in action, remember that it was the and of The Blake that laid him low. As he spoke, he was about to retire; when the old duke seemed to be struck with his last words, for he cried out: “He is more likely to lay you low, Irish traitor that you are! He belongs to a race that never quailed before their foes, when there was anything like equality between them, You will never meet him,” Blakeley turned round to say: ‘When I am gone, Jook at this card, and remember your oath. You shall hear from me iv not many days,” : So saying, he threw acard at the old duke and left the room, while the old noble, now that the excitement was over, sunk back into his chair completely exhausted, and hardly able to realize it bad not all beena dream. The only tangible proof lay in ‘the little card in bis hand, and this it was that he regarded as he drew forth a tinder-box; for it was rapidly growin dark in the house, though there was still mor or less light outside. When at last he was able to read it, he found it to be an ordinary card, with the name— written on it: CAPTAIN JOHNSTON BLAKELEY, U.S. N. U. S. Wasp. The duke stared at the card stupidly, and the whole thing seemed to him still more like a dream than before. He rose, went to the win- dow, and saw the form of the old porter, who was coming up the path toward the house, whistling. ‘To the duke the sight of the porter was welcome; for it promised to relieve him of ont horrible nightmare that was pressing on tm, Rapping sharply on the window, he called in the old man, whom he questioned at once as to whether he had seen any one on the —— that day. The old man swore, by all that was holy, that he bad not met a human being all anys except the people passing on the river. © be sure, he felt a twinge or two about the lie, but he comforted himself by the feel of the money in his pocket, and the reflection that the stranger musi have been a gentleman, or he would not bave kept his word about leaving the pees guinea under the stone at the top of the “ Then, how, in the name of all that is won derful, could the man haye got in?’ asked the duke angrily. ‘* Where have you been, sirrah?” **On the bank ating, please your grace and I’m sure no one d have got in here A my seeing him,” said old Green, stolid- y. And not a word more could the duke get out of him, though he questioned him closely. The fact was that Green was pretty thoroughly frightened about losing his place, and he saw that something had happened that he had not expected. He had let the stranger in, thinking him only some one who had a place at court that he wanted to petition the duke about. Something had evidently gis pe but what it was, Green could not tell. His master had a straige expression on his face, and the appear- ance of a man who had seen a ghost, Green, who knew well enough what the ghost had been, was yet puzzled as to the identity of The Lost Corvette. the gentleman who had paid him so liberall for the interview which had occurred by suc wonderful Juck, and at last ventured to ask the 11 og been. I have been to the house where my father’s foe lived, and have told him what he bas to expect. I swear, if it had not been that duke, who did not apparently wish him to go, | he was an old man, I would have strangled him, after his usual custom: ‘*Did your grace see anything bad?’ The duke favored him with a quick, suspicious glance, as be said: ** Never mind—no—I must have been mee 4 and dreamed it. @o to the kitchen and teil them to get me some tea. I shall go back to town, as soon as they can put the horses in.” Then, as old Green retired, the duke muttered to himself: “‘T must send a description of him to head- quarters.” CHAPTER XIII ON THE RIVER, WHEN Blakeley went out of the house, that evening, he knew that the old nobleman he had left behind him was too much demoralized by the treatment he bad received, to think of or- ganizing any pursuit even if the memory of bis oath was not enough tv restrain him. He leisurely entered his boat, in the sight of several people who were rowing by, and took bis way down the river, in the deepening twilight, as.if he had no other design but that of a quiet stroll on the water in the summer sunset. As he rode away from the lawn of the palace, he noticed that the river was covered with boats, called out by the beauty of the evening, and very soon had lost himself in the crowd, He knew that it would not do to hurry, or show any symptoms of haste, till he had gotten well out of sight of the palace of the duke behind a bend of the river, Then he began to stretch out to his best, hav- ing taken off bis coat and waistcoat and laid them down in the bottom of the boat, so as to hide, as far as possible, the incongruity between his dress and the hard work he was performing, in the boat. The spectacle of a gentleman, row- ing for a wager, in those days, was not as com- mon as to-day, and the spectacle might have excited curiosity, which Blakeley was anxious to avoid. Therefore he lingered along for te first two miles; after which, finding bimself in the more crowded parts of the river, near the city, he be- an to row his hardest and was about to run into the Pool, when he was hailed from another wherry, which came up beside him, and he re- cognized the face of Bampton, full of anxiety, as he asked: ‘“Where have you been? I have been very anxious about you?” Blakeley smiled as he answered: “Taking arow? You seem to bave been do- ing the same. Will you change boats now? I want to speak to you.” Bampton turned to his waterman and said to im: ‘How much do Iowe you? This gentleman and I are friends,” The waterman named his price—a stiff one— and the smuggler paid it without any haggling, when the transfer was effected, and Blakeley and age ge were once more together. Then the smuggler asked the other, as they rowed away: ““How could you be so rash? The police, if they once see, and have any reason to suspect, will catch you as sure as fate.” Blakeley curled his lip as he said: ‘“Mr. Bampton, you and I are in the same boat, physically; but not in any other sense. You are in the country of your birth, and able to face your friends and foes openly. Iam an exile, and have but little to interest me in life. What matter is it to me if there is danger? Life is sweet tosome men; butnotto me. How can it be?” Bampton seemed to be puzzled, as he asked: ‘*What do you mean? You have a good posi- tion in another country, and can do anything you wish.” “Yes,” returned the other with the same bit- ter tone, ‘“‘so long as I do not step on the shores of the country I was bornin. Such is the doc- trine of this country that calls itself the land of liberty. Once an Englishman, alwaysan Eng- lishman, is their doctrine. But suppose he be an Irishman, how then? Why, he is to be cov- sidered always an outcast from grace, and made a slave to the conquerors, to the end of time, Iam weary of such a life, and if I lose it in getting the vengeance that I crave, I shall be willing to die, as Paul Jones did, with none to mourn me. The man without a country is the nearest to hell, of any one on the face of the earth,” He spoke in an absent-minded way, as if he had almost forgotten to whom he was speaking, and Bampton made no reply till they had gotten down by the city, where the darkness came down on them and the lights of London were the only companions in the gloom on the river. Then the smuggler asked him suddenly: *‘ And where have you been, after all? I ask, because you may have run into danger, with- out knowing it, and we may be followed. Blakeley sbook his head. ‘The danger is past, whatever it might have as he sat there.” Bampton seemed aghast, as he repeated: * **You have been to the Duke of Rutland! Where, in Heaven’s name?’ ** At bis palace, near Richmond. Ifound bim there, all alone, as luck would have it, and got at him in his library. He thought I was a ghost at first, and conjured me not to take him with me; but I soon convinced him that 1 was flesh and blood, and left my card at his grace’s disposition, when I came away.” > ampton uttered a cry of incredulous borror. “Your card! Good Heavens, man, are you mad? If they catch you, it will bea banging matter, You are an officer of the enemy, anda spy. And I shall bein danger for barboring you too! You are determined to ruin me!” Blakeley directed the course of the wherry to the landing at the foot of the steps, that led to the smuggler’s house, before he answered. Then he said: “Mr, Bampton, I have no wish to incommode you in any way, and therefore I shall not bur- den your bospitality any longer. Will you sell me this boat? If you will, I can escape by my- self, to-night, before any description of me is ih the hands of the police. I will not bring any further danger on your house.” Bampton seemed to be struck by some feeling that overcame his fears for his own safety, for he said hastily: “By no means, sir. You are my guest and the son of the best friend I ever had on the face of the earth. I will take care of you, and if you choose to bring disaster on me and mine, no one has a better right. You must come in. If you wish to leave the country in the same secret way that youcame in, I can help you.” “Thanks!” was the cold reply, as the Ameri- can drew in his oars, “ but I prefer to rely on myself alone. I will only ask you one question, before I take my departure. Who is that girl that you have in the house?” The question seemed to confuse the smuggler more than one wight have imagined from its simple nature. He stammered: ‘What girl? Rose, do you mean?” “The same. Who is she?” “She is my ward, sir, and under my protec- tion.” ‘* Who was her father?’ pursued the Ameri- can, quietly. ‘‘Come, Bampton, I may as well tell you that the duke told me you have the knowledge of the whereabouts of the cbild that was taken away by the lord lieutenant.” Bampton stammered more than ever, as he said, hastily: “Come into the house, if you want to talk about these things. We shall be overheard here. Will you not come?” ‘*No, I will not,” was the obstinate answer. “‘T want to know the truth bere and at once, Is that girl Rose Lynch or not?’ “As God is my judge, Blake, she is not,” answered the smuggler, earnestly. “Tf you want to know who she is, I implore you to come into my house and accept my hospitality, where we shall be out of danger from the. boats that begin to patrol the river very soon.” Blakeley seemed to hesitate a little, but on the smuggler renewing the invitation for the third time, with great earnestness, he yielded so far as to go into the house by the rear, leaving the ami at the foot of the steps, in the t- ouse, CHAPTER XIV. THE REVELATION. INSIDE the smuggler’s house that night when the two men got in all was dark: but they had not been in long when the light of a lamp shone out from the little parlor, and the smuggler showed his guest a chair, and sat down oppo- site to him, saying: “ Now sir, The Blake is entitled toa full ac- count of the child that I have raised as my own.” But after he had said this he seemed to be as much at a loss how to proceed as before, for he fell into a silence that provoked from his guest the question: “Have you forgotten the story? I will help you. Were you ever the chief of the Ribbon- men?” , Bampton bowed his head slowly, as he an- swered: “T was at onetime. The knowledge came to you by one of them. He was one also. It is twenty years ago now, nearly. I had left the active superintendence of the order, when the rebellion of *Ninety-eight took place. I was known as the head, but I exercised no direct authority over apy one, They came to me to ask for advice and help; and that'was all. It was at the time that your father was betrayed that [ took the only active part I did during the whole rebellion. His capture sent a panic through the whole of our cause, The signal had been set for informers to begin their accursed trade, and when was ever an Irish rebellion found that there were not also Irish informers, to betray their own countrymen? You know * A <0
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12 all about it, Blake. You have suffered from it, and you think I never did. You are mistaken. too, was betrayed and lost all I had by ‘the treason of an informer. You do not know wo I was at one time, before I went to the sea, and hid all trace of my being an Iriskman, from very shame of my fellow- countrymen, who had sold their birthright for less then a messof pottage. Well, that will not interest you much, I was not of your class, — w. Iwas but a peasant, and 7 Stl think we have no feelings, ButI loved your father: for he had shown mea kindness when I needled it sorely. When he knew that he would be taken, he sent for me, and confided to me a secret, that I have not told for all these years. Ho told me that he had hidden, for the benefit of his children, and especially of yourself, a simof money. He described the hiding-place, ‘md told me how to find it. When you wera ‘ken away, asa boy, and smugyled on board lhe ship that went to America, it was under- stood that I should follow, with your mother and the child, that was yet too young to travel, as the rest were, I was to hide them in my house in London; for at that time I had begun the trade which has Since raised me to the riches I pow have. The time was set, and when the officers came to your father's house, they found only him there, after the collapse of the re- bellion, waiting to be arrested. They had expect- ed to find all his family, and it was well known that uhe attorney-general had made great im- portance of taking all together, on account of the pressure he could bring to bear on your father, by appealing to his affections, to save your mother and sister from the effects of the attainder, that would ensue to all his family, in the descending line, Your grandfather bad steadfastly refused to join in any rebellious movement, for he bad foreseen that it must end in failure. We, who were younger, thought that we knew better, and laughed to scorn all thoughts of prudence. Your father was the only one in the whole of the chiefs, that, from the first, knew the movement was going to be a failure, and went on with it, though hoe knew it would be the ruin of all his family, and end in his own execution. He only strove to secure the future of the children that God had given him. You were one, and your sister, lanche, the other. Sbe was with your mother, who refused to leave your father till the ver end, when he ordered her away, and she went, with much reluctance. Then it was thatI as- sumed the charge of mother and daughter, with the money that 1 bad taken from the hiding- place. I knew that there was no one who knew of the deposit but your father, and I might, if I | had followed the example of many of those | who bad made their profit out of the misfor- tunes of the rebels of 'Ninety-eight, have stolen all the money, and no one would bave been the wiser. Instead of that, I took your mother and sister, and brought them here. People thought that they were my sister and niece, The child was taught to call me ‘uncle, as she began to talk, and does not know, to-day, but what I am ber true and lawful uncle. our mother—but you know what became of her. She died, soon after hearing the news of your father’s death on the scaffold, and the child has ever since been in my house, Rose Lynch, as you know her, is Blake by right, and your sister. The money that I took from the hiding-place, where I was directed to hunt by your father, has formed the foundation of my present fortune, and I have kept a strict account of it, to hand to you whenever you demand it, There is the story, sir, and now you know how anxious I must be, if you are caught and traced to thishouse. What become of your sister? At present she does not know an ening of her birth, ard I have met it awa ee ercarefully. If she finds it out, what shall we do to keep the knowledge of her father’s fate from her also? It is one thing to tell her that you are her brother and alive, and another thing altogether, to say to her that ber father was executed for treason, an that her brother is a foe to the land in which he was born, and to the flag which his father fought to preserve, in the old wars, before he joiaed the rebellion. It is a hard thing to tell & woman that her brother is a fugitive from justice, in his own land, sir.” Blakeley listened attentively, and when the other had quite finished he said in a low tone: ‘You may be right. I am not saying that ou are not; but forgive the men who ave driven me from my own land, and made it a sin to me to look on my own sister. Mr, Bampton, you have done very kindly by my family; but one thing you have done wrong. You should bave told my sister, long ago, who she was, and not have suffered her to grow up in ignorance of the facts,” Bampton colored deeply as he said: ‘| know it. Remember, however, that I did not know, till lately, that you were alive. The ship that took you was reported as having been sunk, and we believed it, for some years. When [ heard, at last, that you bad escaped from the wreck alive. the American navy, it was too late to tell her ea and had been put into | Irishman, bitterly. Pe vee The Lost Corvette. Dy). “areata age pie Pla ey A ye father had been executed; and she had been : come here, it might have all been well; but asit taught she was my niece. Why should I blast her fresh life by the sorrow that could do her no good, and must cause her great distress, I brought her up in ignorance of the truth.. To be frank, I did not think, at the time, that you would ever come back alive, and [ had a dim idea thut she might never know but what I was ber natura! protector. Don’t think too hardly of me, Mr. Blake. I am but a man, and she had grown very dear tome, I had made up my mind to tell the truth, as I have done now, whenever you came here; but I put it off as long as I could. Now I suppose that you will take her away from me, in my old age, and tell her that the man she has been accustomed to think of as her uncle, is but a peasant, and not worthy to associate with one in whose veins flows the blood of.the Blakes of Castle Blake.” Blakeley listened without showing any emo- tion, till the other had finished, when he in- quired calmly: **Did it never occur to you that you might deny al) that you have said, and claim the child any way?’ The smuggler colored deeply as he replied: ‘Once or twice it has; I will not deny it. I have thought how easy it would be to have de- nounced you, and taken the benefit of the for- tune, whoever else might claim it. I have tried to persuade myself that I bad no call to tell you anything at all, and that the money I had made by my own skill and boldness be- longed to me.” ‘And to what conclusion did you come?” asked the other, with the same impassive de- meanor. ree got ay struck his band on his knee, and uttered an oath as he answered: “I couldn’t—I couldn’t. The truth would come out, in spite of myself! If your father had not given it to me, in trust for his child, how could I ever have made the fortune? A man cannot make money till be has money to make it with. It is yours, with the interest for aby year compounded, You are the owner, and [am only the trustee. Sir, whenever you wish to see your sister, she is in this house.” Blakeley had been watching him closely as he spoke, and now be broke in hastily: ‘* By no means, by no means, Bampton. You have done what not one man of a million would have done. It may be the best in the end that is, ny coming has brought nothing but misery and disgrace. Truly the position of the exile was a-bitter one, as it always must be, when a man has no preg ty As long as he had been on the otber side of the Atlantic, Blakeley had not thought of the position he would occupy when he went home to the pave of his birth, and found his family ostracised and the house in which he had been born a mass of ruins. Then he hegan to realize, for the first time, the hard lot which had come on him; and the added bitterness of beart that he now experienced made him feel as if he wished he had never come at all. Bampton, on the other band, sat looking at him with a face full of sympatby and pity, that showed how he was moved, and at last said: **Don’t take on so, sir. It is by no means im- possible that we may escape; and, if so, it is certain that the first duty of your sister, now that she knows she has a teoeber, will rest with her own family. Women are ruled by their affections, a good deal more than men, as “you will find, when you are as old as me, and have been married as long as I was, before my r wife died. If you would like to see your deter I will fetch her now—that is, if—” He started nervously as he spoke, and cast his eyes at a hole in the wall, that noone else would have noticed. The dim light of the candle that illuminated the room itself was matched by a small beam of brighter light, that streamed out from this hole in the wall. “She isin there; and has heard all that we have said,” he whispered hastily. ‘‘ Never mind. Tt may all be for the best. I will go and sum- mon her. You must meet sometimes, and now is the best of times.” ; CHAPTER XV. THE. PHANTOM SHIP. His majesty’s brig-of-war, Reindeer, with all sailset, was plowing the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, off the west coast of Ireland, a few days efter the events in London, recorded in tbe last chapter, when the captain, who was pacing the quarter-deck uneasily, was startled out of bis | sullen reverie by the ery of the lookout: ; “Sail ho, sir! A sbipon the weather quarter, looks like the Yankee.’ Lord John immediately turned bis glass on she should not know wi of the past. God | the place indicated by the hail, and saw a ship, knows there is not muc it. But I should like to see her again. Why should we not all leave this hated country and go to free America, where there are no kings or ' ! ing’s officers, to bang men for striving to live | freeiy?” The smuggler looked around the room with a strange expression, as he replied slowly: ‘IP you give the order, you have the right. I told your messenger, when he first came over the ocean, to arrange for the signals, by which we were to meet, that I recognized your right to Gre the order, as the bead of the Blake ona ou cannot say but what we have kept faith with you. You were met on the coast, by Mat Blake, and he told you where I sbould be. You have had all the information asked for, and we have not hindered you, in any way, from doing as you pleased. If you wish to resume your sister’s guardianship, and take her from me, you have the right; though you had none of the care of her during her infancy. But how if she is unhappy?” Blake nodded his head. “*T see; I did not think of that, Bampton. Well, what sball be done? Would you' be in- clined to give up the house that you have here; come on the sea with me; and trust to the prizes we shall take, to pay you for the fortune you leave behind?” er seemed to be hesitating, as he an- swe 3 ** You forget one thing, sir.’ ** And what is that?” “‘That your sister has been brought A in England, and that I have never attemp to influence ber mind in any way.” Blake seemed puzzled as he asked: ‘* What do you mean?” Bampton drew closer, to say in a guarded way: ey mean that she bas been to school in Eng- land, and has imbibed notions that will not yield to anything but a long lapse of years. ould you like your sister to hate you, and all your people? She has no idea that anything’ can come out of Ireland but bad. She has seen nothing but good, about England, and you will seem to her unnatural, when you wage war with her, Did you never think of that?’ Blakeley uttered a deep groan, and hid his face in his hands, as be listened to the words of the other. Then he said, in a low stifled voice: “There is only one thing left to fill the cup, Bampton.” ‘*What do you mean?” asked the other, in his turn surprised, ‘*' That she should marry an Englishman, and learn. to bate her own country,” groaned the “God forgive you, Bamp- ton: you did not know what you were doing, you were alive, Your mother bad died; your ' when you broughtupthischild. If I bad never to make ber proud of | of swift and graceful mold, av gee 3 up from the southwest, toward the coast o the same tack as the Reindeer, The land was plainly in sight and, it hardly seemed possible that an American ship should have a commander so audacious as to penetrate into the very thickest of the enemy's cruisers, at a time like that, when the French war bad just been terminated in triumph, by the first abdica- tion of Napoleon, and the British sbips swarmed on every coast, especially their own. The Reindeer, therefore, was put about to meet the stranger by her‘captain, with no idea that the lookout could bave made ot Ae but a most egregious mistake, excusable only by reason of his eagerness to report something. Through the glass, the strange sbip a about the same size as the Reindeer, though she was ship-rigged, with three masts. That she was a man-of-war, was plain from the neatness of ber spars, es far as they were visible under the cloud of sail that she was carry- ing. When ah by the rac! grime she was about three or four miles off, and coming down fust on the brig. Lord John hauled his wind, and made to meet the stranger, with the disadvantage of ha the wind against bim and therefore being a the worst point for a brig. in case the strange vesse] had any desire to avoid him. As he pre- pared to meet the other, with the wise u- tion of a man who neglects no chances, be beat to quarters. e brig was a good sailer on the wind, but, in nents up, she was slow, on account of ber model, which was of the broad and bluff order that then prevailed on most British shipe-of- war, on the theory that they required stable platforms for their guns, and that a swift model meant that the vessel was better to ron away than to fight. Very soon after the Reindeer had started on her new career, the rapid advance of the stran- er, coming down, as she was, with the favor- ng wind and a cloud of canvas, bt the two within a mile of each other, w the strange ship suddenly hauled her wind, and went off to the open ocean, without answering her signals that the brig henig one, to find whe- ther she were an enemy or a friend. As this happened, Lord John hed an oppor- tunity to see the whole length and breadth of the jets i and saw that she excelled hig own brig in size, though pot so much as to ex- pe any fear in his mind of the result of a con- “ Bunt,” be said, to the first lieutenant, who was pacing the deck, at a tful distance below his commander, “come here, I want to speak to you.” eland, on Mr. Bunt came up, and the captain con-— tinued: OY ES GT OO
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vi = “ =" ape Oe ees Ter Tae > Sc sd 9 SS eee Set Ms ee “That is the Yankee, sure, or she would not behave in that suspicious manner, But her captain must be a bold fellow, to come here, y;, he will run into the Warspite, if he holds on that tack.” The Warspite was a seventy-four-gun sbip, that had been detached to the west of Ireland station, a few weeks before, to watch the out- side line, with the hope that she might come across some of the large American frigates, supposed to be cruising in the Atlantic, trying what they could pick up. ’ Bunt looked at the enemy’s ship with a grave look, as if he did not like to see ber, “Pd sooner see the Warepite, than hear about her, my lord,” he said, “That stranger is very much like a Yankee sloop-of-war, I saw in the harbor of New York, when I was com- ing away. She was called the ’Ornet—I mean the Hornet, my lord, and was the very coun- terpart of this one. She took the Peacock in no time, as one wight say, and the Peacock -was the same force as this brig, except that sbe had two guns moré than we have.” Mr, Bunt, being now quite sober, was very articular about bis aspirates, and corrected Pimealf frequently, Lord Jobn Manners made no answer for some minutes, during which the brig kept on her course after the stranger. Then he observed: “ She sails like a witch on the’ wind, doesn’t she, Bunt# We shall never catch ber at this rate,” Indeed, the strange ship was obviously in- creasing her distance from the brig, as soon as she set to work to beat up, andit was plain that the Reindeer could not catch her, if the other vessel was disposed to avoid the encounter, This fact became patent when they had sailed along for anotber mile or two, when the sails of the strange ship were reduced to her fighting canvas, and yet she outsailed the brig. But Lord John was so eager to come up with the ship that he ordered the royals set, and the stu’nsails extended on either side of the ordinary canvas, till the Reindeer was a pyramid of white duck from her trucks to her spar-deck. Then she plunged through the waves like a whale in a chase, but made such slow pro- gress that the stranger was able to hold her own under topgallantsails alone without setting her royals, The captain of the British brig was of that dogged temperament that does not easily de- ' spair of success, and he held on till the greater rt of the day had spent itself and the coast of reland bad sunk below the horizon, when the increasing force of the wind began to make the brig roll and bury her under her crowd of canvas, and he was reluctantly obliged to give the order to shorten sail to a safer degree of canvas. ‘ When the sun set, the stranger was still at about the same distance as when they had first discovered their inferiority in swiftness, aud maintained ber course as if she was not sensible of the fact that she was being pur- As night came on, the captain sent a couple of the best watchmen in the brig to the knight- heads to peer out over the water; and the rising of the moon in about an hour after sunset made the chase the more easy, as they could keep the _ stranger in sight all night. At nine in the evening, when this occurred, the captain sent the men from quarters, and al- lowed the watch to be set, with strict orders that the watch below should sleep in their clothes, and be ready to turn out to quarters at the first tap of the drum. en the captain went to bis own dinner, and invited the first lieutenant to join him, for he had an idea that Bunt was a very good man to Rive advice, The dinner st ange but the bottle circu- lated with less freedom than usual, for both offi- cers felt the responsibility of the chase they were pursaing. ‘Well, Bunt,” asked the captain, when they had eaten their dinner in silence, “and what do be make of this fellow taking the course he as? Does he want to run or not?” Bunt shook his head gravely. “Pm thinking, my lord, that he is trying to entice us out to some place where he will turn on us and give us all we want,” ‘“‘What armament do you think she carries?” asked the H feseng. nobleman next. ‘ Any long uns to pick us to pieces in the usual Yankee ashion Bunt shook his head or ‘*] don’t think it, my lord, The ’Or—I mean the Hornet had nothing but -carronades; but they were thirty-twos, and that is eight pounds a gun more than wecarry., Their game is to get alongside us in the night, and-try to sink us at one broadside. That is the ay tbe Hornet served the Peacock. She knocked her all to bits at one or two broadsides. But she never ran away like this fellow does.” “] wonder where the Warspite can be?” ob- served Lord John, ina musing way. “If that fellow bad beard that she was close by, he couldn’t have been more prudent.” ‘*Maybe he has seen her, and that is the The Lost. Corvette. reason he is trying to draw us. out of the way. If I were you, my lord—” And here Bunt F meg and hesitated, for he was about to offer advice to his superior un- asked, and that was a delicate thing to do with aman of Lord John’s impatient temperament. ‘* Well, what would you do, Bunt?’ asked Lord Jobn. “I would give up the chase and go back to the coast of Ireland, my lord, If that fellow has any idea of bringing us to action, and try- ing to take us by superior force at a blow, the turning out of the chase will make him show his colors; and if he turns to fight us, we shall have at least the advantage of choosing the ground, and of being the defending party.” Lord John did not seem to relish the advice, for he said: ‘But that would look like running away. os Bale it, Bunt, ’m not afraid of the fel- ow! **T know that, my lord; but it is the part of a brave man to serve the king to the best of his ability. We can’t catch that fellow on the tack he is on now; but I bave an idea that if we turn round and run, we shal) have a chance to find whether be has the best of us at all points of sailing, or whether we can hold our own be- fore the wind, If he wants to fight us, that will settle it.” ** Confound it, Bunt, I don’t know but what ated right, after all. Wecan only try it. If e comes after us, we shall know that he is dan- gerous, and can fight him as he comes. He can’t do that without coming alongside.” So saying, the commander of the Reindeer rung a bell on the table, and told the steward to “ give his compliments to the officer of the deck, and ask bim to step down-stairs into the cabin.” The form of Mr. Howard (a sprig of aristoc- racy who had drifted into the Reindeer because sbe was commanded by a nobleman, and who assed his time in lamenting that his lot bad not allen in the times when Nelson had not yet de- stroyed the French navy, so that he might have had a chance of promotion) was soon visible in the cabin, and Lord John greeted him affably, with the remark: **Glad to see you, Howard. Take a glass of wine with me, How’s the weather outside, and how’s the chase?” Mr. Howard took his wine with a freedom that contrasted strongly with the bashful way of Bunt in the cabin, and arswered: “It’s blowing a stiff gale now, sir, and the chase is still at the same distance as before. l’ve had to take in the topgallantsails, to keep the brig from burying too mucb, but it don’t seem to make much difference. We can’t catch that fellow anyway.” “Just the conclusion 1 had come to myself, Howard, Put the brig about quietly, and let her scud. She will bear more canvas, and we will try whether the chase will be able to come up with us on that tack.” Mr. Howard touched his cap and went ont. In another minute the motion of the brig changed, as she ceased to labor up against the heavy seas, and began to fall off to her helm before the gale. Then she dashed along so smoothly that it seemed to the people in the cabin as if she had gained calm water all of a sudden, and Bunt said: ‘“‘She’s a daisy-cutter when she gets down to her work, captain. The Yankee will vot bave such an easy task to catch the Reindeer, if he wants it,” : They waited a little, and the captain was about to send up to the officer of the deck again, when that individual himself came down to re- port that the “‘chase bad hauled her wind again, and was coming down after the brig as if she meant to close at last!” As soon as Lord John beard that, he jumped up with an oath, and ran on deck to see for himself, Seizing the night-glass, he swept the horizon astern, and saw the faint outline of the strange ship, still at about the same distance as before, coming down after the brig. ‘* Call the men to quarters,” he said, in a tone that showed he thought the time bad come at last. ‘‘ We will give this gentleman a chance to show what he’s made of.” The rattle of the drum had hardly been heard, when the men came tumbling up the hatchways, and soon stood at their guns in silence, when the signal midshipman, who bad been watching the stranger through the glass, according to his duty, came up to the captain, and pulled bis sleeve confidentially to say: ** Please, sir, the chase is shortening sail,” The captain seized the glass himself, and saw through it that the topgallantsails of the strange ship were fluttering in the gale, as she took them in, and that she was at the same dis- tance as before, not having altered her positiou a particle, It seemed strange to him, what could be the meaning of the maneuver, but, as he watched it, he suddenly made up bis mind, and called out: ‘* Hands by the clew-lines! All hands shorten sail! Topgallant clew-lines! Clew up and furl. Lay out there, vey you sail-trimmers! Are you all asleep there 13 The effect on the brig of reducing her canvas was to reduce her speed in the same proportion, and the captain, watching the stranger through: the glass, saw that her outline was becoming more distinct every moment. Then, as be watched, he saw the topsails of the other vessel begin to shake, and very soon they came in, when she maintained the same distance as before. “That settles it,” he muttered to himself. “She can beat me on any tack, but she don’t want to catch me or she wouldcomeup. Ill try what carrying sail wi!l do.” He called out the orders: ““Topgallant-halyards and sbeets! Cast loose and set the topgallantsails! Royal halyards and sheets! Give her all she can stand to-night, boys. J'll find out whether that fellow means MO Bey hide-and-seek with us, all night, or not. The brig was soon covered with canvas again, when her progress through the water became so much more rapid, that the outlines of the etranger became dim and uncertain through the glass, and tbe captain thought that he was at last leaving her, when he was surprised to see ber set her topgallantsails again and come = so fast that she was soon once more quite plain. This result achieved, however, the same exas- perating course was followed as before, The stranger refused to come alongside, though it was evident that she could whenever she wanted. Her topgallantsvils were taken in again, and she kept her distance in the same way as be- fore, hanging on the quarter of the brig like a, gost. . In fact, there was so much that was myste- rious in her bebavior, that the men of the Rein- deer, superstitious lke all sailors, began to whisper to each otber, as they stood at quar- ters, that it ‘‘could be no mortal ship.” Stories of the Flying Dutchman, and all sorts of le- gends of the same class went the rounds, end, the captain himself could not belp a certain tbrill of annoyance as he saw the way in which this strange apparition played with bis vessel. He would bave gone below if she had given up the chase; if she bad come alongside he would have known what to do; but when she kept at that exasperating distance, he did not know what to do, except to bold on. bis course toward the coast of Ireland again, in the hope that be might entice the stranger to ber doom, as she was evidently trying to entice him, in the other direction. After half the night hed passed in this way, the coasts of Ireland, with the ligbt-bouses, be- gan to appear before them, and compelled the captain ot the Reindeer to be very cautious, for he knew that the coast, to be visible in the moonlight, must be me nd near. . He bauled his wind, therefore, and threw his maintopsail to the mast, as if he had made up bis mind to wait for the stranger to come down, It was about twelve o’clock when he did this, and the stranger did the same, as they could see in the moonlight, and remained waiting for the morning. Tbe captain went below to take a little rest, leaving orders to call bim if any change took place in the night, and slept soundly till a sudden lurch sent him out of his cot, and rolled him on tbe floor, when he realized that a squall rag ane the brig, and that he was wanted on te Hastily scrambling out of the cabin, which was inclined to the horizon at an angle of nearly forty-five degrees, he got up the companion- way, and found the brig, as he had expected, on ber beam-ends, with the gele bowling through her rigging like a pack of wolves after a quarry; the sea a mass of foam; the sailors of the watch on deck, buddling together by the weatber side of the brig. holding on to anything they could find, and too much demoralized by the sudden coming of the squall to do anything. One glance, and the captain saw that the brig was settling down in the water, and that she would go over if something were not done to relieve the pressure of the wind. She had had her topsails set, when the squall struck her, and they were swelled out, as hard as boards, P prom the brig over, every minute deeper and deeper. The heavens were as black as ink, and the only gleam of light that came from the an water was of that gbastly, livid hue that makes the darkness more visible. “Volunteers to go aloft, and cut away the topsails!” shrieked the captain angrily, as he saw the danger, and that the men were de- moralized, , Then. as not a man stirred, he yelled: ** Follow me, then!” S» saying, he made a dash at the rigging, and was followed by a number of men, who, up to that time, bad been too much terrified to do anything but hug the rigging, and look at the fate = the brig, which they could do nothing to aver The captain sprung into the weather rigging, and managed to get up, as the brig lay over. He was followed by at least fifty men, who bim, and were so much ashamed of their cowardice, that they seized him by main furce Rts: i! q 2 i oe fel. = iQ te beled. >
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x 14 The Lost Corvette. and carried him down to the deck, while their comrades went at the work he had called for. It needed but a very few cuts of the sharp sheath-knives that every sailor carries, under the tremendous pressure of the wind, to cut loose the maintopsail, that was the most dan- gerous of allin the position in which the brig was, at the time. That once gone, the brig righted, under the pressure of the foretopsail alone, and slowly paid off, her hull rising to a level as she turned round, Then, with a wild plunge and bound, she started off, as if on a race, straight toward the Irish coast, where the rocks were within three miles, as sharp and rugged as in any part of the world. In the confusion and burry, all thought of the stranger was forgotten, for it was a problem whether, with all the skill and resource that Manners had shown, he could bring his vessel out of the danger in which she had fallen, through the carelessness of the officer of the a She had been caught napping on a lee- shore. For a good half-hour the fate of the Reindeer hung on a thread, and sbe was driven so close to the rocks that she had to let go two anchors, within three cable-lengths of the shore, when the squall abated, and she was able to see that the dawn had come at last, and that the hori- zon was void of any trace of the strange ship, that had drawn them so near to the brink of death. When at last they got up the anchors, and stood out to sea, the captain of the Reindeer said to Mr. Bunt: “Tt was all atrick, I believe. That Yankee must have known thst the squall was coming, before we did, and got out in time. I will never be caught off a lee-shore again,” But the brig was safe, and the cruise had fairly begun. They had seen the Yankee, and were ready to swear that the brig could fight her, if not catch her. On the whole, the result of the mysterious night-affair had not lessened the courage of Lord Jobn Manners, or his confidence that he could dispose of the strange ship, should he ever be able to get her alongside the Rvindeer, fair and square. In this frame of mind, he set off to the south- west again, to hunt for her. CHAPTER XVI. WANTED, AN INTERPRETER. Tue lugger Faugh-a-Ballagh was at sea once more—this time in tue finest of weather, with a clear sky overhead, and a gentle breeze that made her show off her best points of sailing— when Tim Bodkin, who was at the wheel as usual, said to the captain of the fishing-smack: ‘‘And what in the divil does the bloody- minded Sassenach want of us to-day at all, that he’s comin’ down this way?” Mat Blake looked up to see what his mate meant, and found a large man-of-war brig com- ing down on the lugger, as if she intended to speak her, The Faugh a-Ballagh had come out this time on a genuine fishing trip, as was witnessed by the long mackerel-scino heaped in the waist. Perhaps that was the reason all her men were so wide awake, it being notorious that mackerel are hard to catch, and vhat it requires sharp eyes to see the first evidence of a shoal, before it heaves fully in sight. She had been standing ‘ off and on” all the morning, about ten or fifteen miles out from the mouth of the bay of Galway, when the bri ‘was seen coming toward her, and Tim uttere bis ill-tempered malediction on the strange ves- sel. Matthew Blake, on the other hand, looked worried and anxious about the vicinity of tbe war-vessel, for she was coming bis way, and he had seen enough of the proceedings of English men-of-war, in the matter of fishing-boats, when the ship wanted hands, to fear that she might be coming down on him to press all his crew, and leave the boat to get to shore with bimself alone, as had happeued to others before him. It was clearly no use to try and run from the brig, because she had the weather-gage, was coming down under a cloud of sail, and almost within gun-shot, before the alarm had been given by Tim. Matthew contented himself with cursing Tim rouodly for not letting him see the brig in time, so that the lugger might bave stood in to shore, witbout attracting notice, and added: “There is only one thing to do now, boys, and don’t ye forgit if. Every mother’s son of ye’s Oirish to the backbone, and ye don’t spake a word of English. D’ye mind that now?” The idea was by no means unreasonable, for the Galway fishermen, even now, are prone to speak nothing but a dialect of Jrish, that no one understands, outside of the fishing town. Therefore the lugger kept on her course, with an apparent uncousciousness of offense that was belied by the beating of Mat’s heart, as he saw the man-of-war come nearer and nearer, and knew that she could want nothing good of bim, The lucky appearance of a shoal of mackerel, made the best of excuses for their presence, and te day?” Se re nee ee ee ~m | the crew of. the Faughb-a-Ballagh got out the : boat, and began to shoot the seine with an ar- | dor and skill that they had never shown before. | They hoped that the men-of-war’s-men, if they saw them at work, would be disposed to spare them, for very on § Captain Mat took the command of the boat, to get time to think, ag ape word with Tim to pretend ignorance of English, at all bazards; but b-ing resolved to confess to a smail smat- tering thereof himself, in case an officer came aboard the lugger. The boat went on, at the allotted task, and the men began to get interested in the success of the cast, so much so, that they bad almost for- gotten the presence of the man-of-war that was coming up to pay them a visit, till she hove up to windward of the lugger and dropped a boat into the water. Tim Bodkin, placidly steering the lugger, keeping her to windward of the seine, and oc- casionally luffing up into the wind so as to | cheek the way of the boat, anon gathering speed again and standing on for awhile, was keenly alive, all the time, to the fact that the brig was coming closer and closer, ti}] she hove to, within a few cable-lengths of the lugger, and sent a boat toward her, with an armed crew. A smart and stern-looking officer, with his : sword on, four marines, with their muskets be- | tween their knees, the sailors rowing, with cut- | lasses girded to their sides; such was the omin- | ous aspect of the boat that approached the | Faugh-a-Ballagh. The smart cfficer was Mr. Howard, second | lieutenant of the Reindeer, and he climbed aboard the lugger without a word to Tin, till be hed come close tothat worthy, Tim main- | taining astolid silence all the time, ti]l Howard clapped him on the shoulder, and said briskly: ell, my man, and what luck have you to- Tim stared at him with an aspect of stupidity that no one can assume so easily and completely as a keen-witted Irish peasant, when be wishes to avoid questioning, Seeming.to recognize the fact that his inter- | loecutor was a man of distinction, from his dress, he answered him in Irish, to the effect that he was glad to ‘see the noble gentleman | and hoped he was wel).” Tt had been Tim’s first intention to call the visitor names in Irish, with an aspect of great civility! but a moment’s thought made him more cautious; for he did not know but*there might be a man ormen among the crew of the boat tbat might understand Irish, in which ease he would be found out. His prudence was justified by the lieutenant, who in an ill-humored way, said, as if to him- ells ‘‘Confound these Irish savages! they never understand Christian languages. There ought — a law to forbid the lingo being talked at all,” Mr. Howard was not aware that such a law had been passed, over and over — among the many acts of tyranny that mark the history of pamgane 64 Ireland, and that the signal of its ssage had always been the signal for a fresh aoe in the study of the Irish tongue. e turned to the crew of bis boat, and called: “Is there any of you men that understands Trish? If there is, comé here, and interpret. for me. One of the men rose and touched his hat with the remark: ‘I do, your honor,” ‘*Come here then, and don’t stand there in the boat,” said the officer, ill-temperedly, ‘* Ask this fellow whetber he has seen any sign of a strange man-of-war around the bay, since the last week.” The sailor, a pressed man, from thesouth of Ireland, whence he had been taken from a fish- ing-boat, a Jong time before, came up. He was a good-looking fellow enough, and had the resolute expression of @ man who would do anything he was ordered, His name was Terence O’Donohue. He came close to Tim, and said to him in Irish: “Tt is a long time since the Gaul has had an opportunity to fool the Sassenach, He wants me to ask you a question. Tell me what you like, and I will repeat it.” Tim heard and understood in a moment, and his reply was: “Tell hina that we have but just come out fishing, and that we have seen nothing at all.” Tim listened attentively to the reply, as it was translated, and Terence rendered it cor- rectly. Howard seemed to be annoyed by the answer, for be said: ‘Tell bim that she has been hanging about the bay a good deal of late, and that the fisher- men must bave seen her. Describe the ship to him, and ask whether he is sure that he has not seen ber.” ; Terence turned to Tim and said to him, in the same uncouth tongue that masked his meaning from the officer: : ‘*The Sassenach wants news of the enemy. If im have any lies to tell that you want told well, will repeat them for you.” ngs on She fons ot eo ¢ is "ky. st eh Sia Fis ie Re PE oe With this hint for a basis, Tim Bodkin set to work to invent a long string of yarns about the strange ship, of which the lieutenant was in- quiring, the gist of which was that he had seen nothing of her, but that he thought she must have gone out to sea and been lost in the storm that had prevailed the night before. He listened to his faithful interpreter repeat- ing these figments of Tim’s brain, and noticed that he varied them slightly, but kept pretty closely to their general tenor. When Terence had finished, the officer seemed to be novplused for a moment and at a loss what to do, Then he suddenly made up his mind, and got back into his boat, which was rowed away from the lugger to the boat that was now engaged in drawing the seine. As the man-of-war boat came closer to the fisherman, Mat Blake told his men in a whis- per: ‘““Not a word of English now. Let me dd the talking for yez all.” Then the boat came up, and Howard asked: ‘* Any of you men understand English?’ Mat turned his face with an engaging smile to the king’s officer, to reply: ‘© And it’s the best of English that I spake, captain, yer honor; but the rest of the boys is that ignorant that they won’t Varn it for love nor money.” ‘‘ Well, then,” asked the officer, ‘have you seen a ship-rigged corvette in the offing lately?” Mat stared a y- ‘* A what, sur?’ “A ship-rigged corvette, A sloop of-war. Not as big as a frigate, but carrying guns, [ mean.” * Like the wan beyant, sur?” ‘*No, you fool; that’s a brig. I mean a ship—~ three masts. Don’t you kaow the difference be- tween a ship and a brig?” . co looked more stupid than Tim had before im. ** Deed and I don’t, sur. Isit a ship yer honor is lookin’ afther?” ‘Yes; didn’t you hear me?” ‘Yes, yer honor,” ‘* Well, have you seen any such craft here, within the Jast few days? Last night she was here, and we saw her; but she disappeared. Have you seen anything of her?” Mat scratched his head. “A ship, sur, is it? And sure there’s a power of ships comin’ ’round all the time, sur. “This one has a black hull, with vo ports painted outside. She carries a tremendous square main-course, and very big sails for her size. Has a jook as if she was over-sparred.” Mat looked wise. ‘*T know the ship yer honor manes.” Howard's face brightened, as he asked: ‘* Where did you see her, then?” Mat seemed to be considering. At last he said: ‘A week ago last Tuesday, sur, it was, that me and the boys was comin’ back from the fish- in’ wid a power of fish in the well, and we was overhauled by a big ship, like the wan ye spake of, She come on us all suddint-like, and we wasn’t thinkin’ of ber at all, at all.” “* Where?” asked the lieutenant, eagerly. Mat appeared to be considering again, and it was some time before he answered: ** And I ain’t what they call a navigator, sur, so I can’t hy We was driv’ out to say by.a squall], and whin we got our reckonin’ again we had to run into Cork, bad luck to us. "T'was while we was out at say, in the middle of the Atlantic, that she came on us and spoke us. We was all tired wid the work, and glad to see any wan as would give us a lift, so we made bould to ax the gintleman, that was the captain, where we was, and he gave us the coorse to steer to git to land again.” The officer groaned in spirit at the stupidity of the fisherman, but managed to control himself so far as to ask: ‘‘ What course did he give you?” “Northwest, sur,” Howard stared incredulously. ~ Northwest / You mean northeast; don’t ou? ‘No, sur; I mane northwest,” “Did you steer it?” ‘*I did that, sur: and why w’u’dn't I, av the gintleman was enough to give it to me?” “ And when did you got to land?” “Two days after, sur.” ** At what place?” “Deed, and that’s what I don’t know, sur,” was the innocent answer, as Mat scratched his head. ‘‘They did say that it were Cornwall; but the haythens e’u’dn’t spake English as we as 1 c’u’d mesilf, and we got away as soon as we e'u’d, yer honor, But the oR of the ship was a rale gint)eman, after all.” “Why, what did he do to you?” “He didn’t kape us talking widout givin’ us a sup of the er’stur’, sir, and that’s more than I can say for every gintleman that c. mes to talk wid us. And be bought sonie of our fish before it spoiled, yer bonor; for there’s nothing that tastes better on a gintleman’s table than go fresh mackerel. at this, yer bonor, "G they the beauties?” ‘ ; aah slice IO eS F 88. eR ai De Ait Ws y he: 5. Fa att 3 : TAG Fores j 6 ed
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on — I Sk ATE A" SE a rR en eer The Lost Corvette. “45 Mat indicated, with an admiring wave of the hand, the silver scales of the mackerel, that mow began to be seen through the meshes of the net, and the officer, seeing in the fisherman only a common fellow of the coast, with a phenome- nal capacity to lose his way at sea, said to bim, hurriedly: “ve no time to waste on this. Weareon a cruise, Here, what’s your name, here is a shil- ling for your trouble. Give way. boys.” — And away went the boat, while Mat, with a wink at the rest of the boys, oe the shilling in his pocket, and observed, dryly: ‘ ‘“And did he get the best of me, boys? Did he, now?’ ; : Tben the fishermen went at their work with renewed energy, as they found they had a heavy haul. Meantime the boat went back to the brig, and Mr. Howard reported that he could get no satisfaction out of the fishermen, who did not know anything about the ship that had cost the Reindeer so much trouble the ip. before. Lord John cross-questioned him as to what they had said, and when he heard the story that Mat had made up, about the ship that bad found ‘the Jugger at sea, and given her the direction, che exclaimed: “Then she must have been driven into the «chops of the channel. There is no other way in which a northwest course would bring the rng ger to land in Cornwall.” He seemed to be very thoughtful at the news, and finally gave the order to B ge the ship’s head to the west again, and stand out-to sea. The Faugh-a-Ballagh was looked on as not -~worth further trouble, and left behind. As soon as the brig was fairly out of distance in the offing, Mat Blake said to the boys, who were all in his confidence: ‘‘ Boys, The Bluke is coming back again, and ye mind what I say. That felly don’t come down here, huntin’ for him, for nothin’. Keep a bright lookout for bim,” They did so, all that day, while they con- tinued on their cruise; for the first shoal of mackerel had not proven enough to fill their well, and they were desirous of having a good haul before they went into Galway. They even stood out to sea for several hours, Winthrop frowned. : “Tt is no joking matter, I can assure you. He does not want to do anything quite so mad as that; but I must say that he is not far from it. He wants us, in case he is gone more than a week, to set our course ior the Channel, and run straight up io as far as the Straits of Dover, till we see him coming to meet us.” Marion stared. “Straits of Dover, indeed! Why we should be stop and signaled by a dozen men-of- war before we got to Plymouth. Tbe whole Channel is swarming with cruisers.” ‘‘T know that; but, nevertheless, those are the orders, and we have got to obey them, un- ess we are prepared to stand a trial for dis- obedience, in case he ever comes back.” Marion laughed. He had all the reckless courage of the young naval officer of America, n a war where the chances were so much against the ships of his country that it was a wonder they had ever ventured to sea at all. He rather liked the idea of going to the straits of Dover, and running the gantlet of the British fleet, if the ship only got out somehow. It was this feeling that made him say to his friend, as Winthrop appenecs gloomy at the prospect: ‘Well, Win, there is no getting anything without risk, and if those are the orders, we have no option but to follow them; have we?” Winthrop looked him in the face, and inquired in wonder: ‘*Do you mean that you are actually in favor of following the orders and standing up the Channel, after the captain, on a regular wild- goose chase?” “T actually am, Win, It is not our respon- sibility. If we get taken, we shall have our orders to show, I suppose.” Winthrop instinctively put his hand to his breast, as he answered: “ Ay, ay, [took good care of that. If I get killed, remember that they are here, in my breast-pocket, and you are not bound to follow them; they are addressed to me, not to you.” “We won’t talk about getting killed, till there is no chance of coming out alive, Win, am in favor of trying to obey the orders of the skipper, if wecan, There is not a soul in sight now, and that brig will not amount to much, if she tries to stop us. We can blow her out of ‘till the land was a faint cloud on the horizon; | the water.” but had no view of the ship for which they were ooking. As the sun set, they saw the brig that had ‘searched them, coming back to the coast again, and Mat said: ‘*She’s going to s’arch us, av we don’t get out of this.” CHAPTER XVII. ON BOARD THE WASP, LIEUTENANT OLIVER WINTHROP, with his face set ina frown of great anxiety, was talk- ing to his particular friend and next in com- ‘mand, Lieutenant Robert Marion, both of the American navy, and belonging to the sloop-of- war Wasp. The two friends were pacing the quarter- deck, talking to each other in low tones, and, from the expression uf their faces, not able to control their feelings altogether. Mariou was the easiest in mind of the two, robably because he had the least responsi- ility. Winthrop was in command of the ship, in the absence of the captain; and that person had been away from the sbip for over a week, since he had gone on board the yacht of the smuggler, in the Trish channel. “ Here we are, six weeks out and no prizes yet.” said Winthrop, in a tone of great ill- temper. ‘I declare I don’t see what the skip- per can be thinking of, to leave the ship in this manner. Where can he have gone to, and ‘when is he coming back? I shall not take the responsibility of avoiding that brig any more, if she comes after us again.” s “J wouldn’t either,” said Marion, bluntly. ** You are not expected to wait on the Skipper all the time, when he bas perbaps been taken prisoner by the Johnny Bulls. The rules of the rvice require you to fight when you can, and ey don’t require you to wait for the Skipper forever.” “That is not the worst of it,” replied Win- throp: ‘The fact is, I am working under orders, and I am liable to be ccurt-martialed if I donot obey them strictly. He left them sealed, to be opened as soon asI required advice in a difficult position.” ‘* And what were they?” asked Marion, eager- ly. ‘‘It alters the case if he has left specific orders, for, to tell you the truth, I began—” And here tbe young officer cenet as if he avere afraid he had said too much. * You were afraid that the Skipper was not all rigbt in his head,” interposed Winthro with the air of a man who is gratified to fin another who agrees with him. ‘ Well, to tell the truth, I am not sure pin may not be right, I bave had suspicions that way myself. He has certainly taken a very queer course. What do you think the orders were, when I came to open them?” “To sail up the Thames and storm Windsor Castle?” asked Marion, lightly. Se ee eee ee Ne ee Winthrop cast a glance around the horizon, as he replied: ‘Tf it was not for the news that we heard from that fisherman yesterday, I should not be so much afraid of the result; but they say that | the French war is over, and if so, the chances are that the whole Channel is closed to us,” ‘*So much the better chance have we of pass- ing unnoticed,” said Marion, thoughtfully. ** Perhaps that was what the skipper meant by iving us the order. The men-of-war will not 5 on the watch for the French privateers, and they will not dream that we would dare to sail up tbe Channel, to their very doors, We are now, as I take it, not very far from the chops of the Channel—” ‘“We are in the very midst of them,” inter- rupted Winthrop. ‘The Lizard lies to our northwest and the Channel Islands are due east. If we bold on the course we are now going, we shall be in sight of Portsmouth before night; for the sbip is going a good eight knots an hour, and the best wind we can have is on our quar- ter. Marion cast a glance around the ship as his superior spoke, and saw that be spoke the truth. A brisk breeze from the west was driving the Wasp straight up the English Channel, fe the waves around her were just high enough to cause a slight roll to the sbip, as she dashed tions, without impeding her progress in the east. The Wasp was covered with canvas, from her trucks down, and was going at a great pace through the water, though the wind was not enough to put ber to her very best speed. The snowy decks; the rows of. well-kept cannon; the sails, as white as the drifted snow; the neat dress of the sailors; all presented an appearance ~ beauty and order that was particularly pleas- Re Winthrop looked round him and sighed as he said to Marion: abe _ She is a beauty; is not she, Bob? What a pity she should be going on her last: cruise?” ‘‘ Last cruise be bavged,” cried Marion. ‘We are going to beard the British lion in his den, and don’t yourun away with any idea, Ol! Win, that we are going on any last cruise. Do you want to give us all the blues, and kill us before our time? We are going to run the gantlet of the whole British fleet, and to get out of it as safely as Paul Jones did, not so many years ago. In those days Paul Jones had not become so mytbical as to-day, and his name aroused the memories of famous deeds in a much greater degree than it does to-day. Winthrop smiled more cheerfully as he said: ‘* After all, it is not my responsibility. If we et taken, the skipper will have to take the lame, and not I.” “Of course not, 1 don’t helieve that he would think of any such thing, Win. He is a fighter, if ever there was one, and if we get into a trap, through running after him, he will take care we do not be blamed for assuming the responsi- bility. Hallo, there isa sail already that looks like a man-of-war.” A white sail on the lee bow attracted this speech, and Winthrop saw it st the same time, with feelings of mingled fear and gladness. He thought that, if it were a ship-of-war, he would be relieved of the hecessity of going any further to find an enemy, and he also thought that it might be a small vessel, which might be come a prize. Sending Marion up to the mast-head to in- spect the stranger through the glass, and report as soon as he should be sure of its identity, the young officer paced the deck below with a nervous anxiety that he did not care to conceal. It was a nervous position for any man to be, at his time of life:—for the officers of the Ameri- can navy, when it was still in its infancy, were often like Winthrop, young men, who had never had much experience in war, till they were put into it, in the midst of difficulties, Winthrop had been a midshipman in the Con- stitution, when she made her first cruise in the war, and had been promoted, only three months before the Wasp went to sea, while his friend Marion was still his junior in rank, low as that was. He waited till he saw his friend coming down the rigging again, and could bardly control his impatience fill the other had spoken. “Well, what is it?” he asked, anxiously. ** Have you made ber out?” Marion looked puzzled, as he said doubtfully: ‘if I was not afraid of making a big mistake I should say that the sail we see was the very yacht we met in the lrish Channel, when the skipper made his departure so suddenly.” inthrop was so much overjoyed at the idea that he lost his dignity and came near hugging his friend; but Marion hel him.off as he said: ** Don’t bein too much of a hurry. I may be wistaken after all. It is certainly a small vessel, and looks like a yacht: but it may be another altogether.” ‘‘But what was the rig? could you see?” “ A cutter, but there are notbing but cutters in this part of the world, you know, and now that tue French war is over, the English yachts may be coming out for fun. We can take this one, if it does not turn out to be the one we are after.” The Wasp kept on her course after the strange sail, and in half aa hour more she could be seen from the deck of the corvette. A cutter-rigged yacht she was, and looked very like the little craft that the ship had encountered in the Irish Channel, when the aie bad made such a sudden departure. he seemed to be coming toward them, and to bave no fears of the ship, till they were about two miles apart, when the smaller vessel turned round and Rave for the shore, with a suddenness that showed her commander to be alarmed at the appearance of the ship. The Wasp bad the weather-gage, and held her course for some time; but could not come up with the strange cutter, which sailed like a witch, There was not enough wind to give the ship the advantage her size would bave afforded bad there been more sea on, and the chase became exciting, as the Wasp crowded on all tbe canvas she could spread to the wind and followed the cutter, As they wenton, the coasts of England became visible, and with them a number of vessels of ali sizes that bad hitherto been hidden by the curvature ef the eartb. One could see that all were hugging the coast close- ly, as if they were afraid of capture. For some time the ship did not gain on the cutter to any appreciable extent, but after the chase had lasted for near an hour, and the shores of Eng~ land were plainly visible, the ship began to close, as if some accident had bappened to the cutter. Winthrop saw that she was running for the protection of one of the numerous mar- tello towers that then studded the coasts of the Channel on either side; and he put out all the canvas be could stretch, with the result that, in half an hour more, he had the cutter under his lee, and had begun to clear away a gun to firea sbot at her. It was a bold thing to do in the Channel, with the knowledge that there might be fifty ships-of-war withia chasing distance; but there was no resource. It was necessary to find out what the cutter was made of, and in another minute the report of the gun echoed over the water, and the shot was seen skipping past the cutter, which imme- diately hove'to, as if her commander had had enough of the affair. Then the ship came up and hove to to wind- ward, at about a cable length, when Marion took the boat and went aboard her. As be drew nearer he saw that it was the same cutter that they bad met in the Irish Channel, and was at a loss to understand why she should have run away in the manner she had done. He was received on her deck by the very man that bad received his commander when be had gone aboard her, a week before, and the first words that the young lieutenant spoke were: 3 — as ae “Bal sacar aT = & rm = ne -_
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“Well, and why the deuce have you run py, re us, my friend? Don’t you know Ramet looked at him as if he had never seen him before as he answered him with the utmost coolness: ‘*T never saw you before, sir; but I suppose that you belong to the Yankee pirate, asp; that, we were informed, was lurking about the chops of the Channel. Well, sir, you have taken me; but it will do you no good. Your ship will be taken in three days, if you do not put out to sea and go home.” Marion replied: ** IT don’t trouble my head much about: that, sir. Have you seen our captain? That is what I brought you to for. He went away with you.” “ Tadeed?” was Bampton’s nee 4 ogy reply. “1 think that you must be mad,sir. To my knowledge, I have never seen your ship before. Who is your captain?” Marion, puzzled at the stout denial, rapped out angrily: “What are you trying to dof—to make a fool of me? Our captain went away in your cutter, and we want him again. Whereis be? If you don’t tell me at onee, I shall have to send you in as a prisoner.” Bampton’s. only answer was: “I expected to be taken, when you fired at me; but I don’t want to be insulfed. I am a prisoner, and I want to be treated as such.” ‘‘Oh, very well,” said Marion, in a pet. “-You’ shall get all the prisoner's treatment that you want, I assure you.’ Thei; he turned to the boat’s crew that he had brought with him, all armed, and told them to take possession of the yacht, ‘which was done in a trice; the men of the cutter being driven he- low in "rough style, and the control of the little vessel being turned over to the Americans, Then Marion said to Bampton ** Now get into that boat, rian I will take you to the ship.” Bampton, displaying no uneasiness at the harsh tone of the young officer, obeyed his order, and they were rowed to the ship. When they struck the deck, Marion reported to Winthrop that he had brought the master of the yacht to him, the latter “denying any knowledge of the captain, who had gone with him.” Winthrop, looking at the other steadily, ob- served that he was smiling, in a way that indi- cated amusement, and asked him, with some asperity, ‘‘ what he was laughing about?” ampton turned his head to the group of vo” Me that were gathered round him, and sai “If you are anxious to know, I will tell you as soon as we are alone, and _ have no listeners.” Winthrop motioned the officers to fall back, and then said: **Now, sir, what does this mean?” “Tt means,” said Bampton, with a smile, * that you are the greenest pair of Yankee offi- cers whom Ieversaw. Do you sup {that I was going to admit before the whole crew, whom I have to confront in my own country, that I knew anything of you? It was necessary that you should take the yacht, if I hoped to get back to England again without being liable to be hung for treason. Your captain is on ee that cutter, but he must be got out with- hay any one knowing that I have bad a hand in t.’ Winthrop, a little mortified, asked: ‘And how shall we know that he is on board?” “By seeing him come aboard this ship, o course. Heis in disguise. He has done Chet few men would have dared to do, and has got a great deal of information in consequence. He will come with the rest, if you muster the crew of the yacht. And I may as well say that, the sooner hi do it, the better it will be for your own safety. There area oe many ships wait- ing for you in the Channel.” CHAPTER XVIII. _ THE CAPTAIN OF THE WASP. THAT night the moon did not rise till about ten o’clock, and her light was much diminished; for she was in her third quarter, In the obscurity that reigned before she was fully risen, the Wasp, and her small tender, as the yacht had become, sailed out of the danger- ous position that they had occupied in the Chan- 1, in plain sight of the shores of England, and vay their course toward the coast of France, When they had arrived within a few miles of the island of Jersey, there was a good deal of passing toand fro between the ship and the cutter, after which tbe ship took her departure to the west, while the yacht sailed away to the north. As soon as she had got toa distance where the shot could not ibly burt the qockt, the ship began to fire her long twelve at e cutter, sending the shots skipping over the waves in the moonlight, but not in any case hitting her. Hardly a dozen shots had been fired, when The Lost Corvette. came booming over aii kacial vesceihdal cosas Be on water, and Winthrop who had the deck, exclaimed to his midship- man: ‘Go and give my compliments to the captain and say to bim that we have roused the enemy at last.” The boy, a fair-baired youngster of German extraction, named Geisinger, ran down-stairs to the cabin, all ina hurry of joyful excitement, and found the captain of the Wasp, who had returned in such a mysterious manner, sitting at his table, by the light of a lamp, studying a chart, so intently that he did not hear the boy till the latter coughed, Then le turned round shar ly and asked: ell, sir, what is it?” The middy was overawed; for he was at no time very confident in the presence of his com- op ing and the fierce tone of the latter abash- ed him “There is a British ship in sight, and firing back at us,” he explained, ‘* Mr. Winthrop has the deck, and hesent me to tell you, sir.” Blakeley seemed as if he had not heard him for a moment, and then he answered more kindly: “That_is right. You have done all right. Tell Mr. Winthrop to give up the chase of the cutter, as soon as he sees the enemy plainly. The ruse has succeeded.” Max Geisinger touched his cap, and turned to leave the cabin, when the captain added: “Tell Mr. Winthorp to come down as soon as he has put the ship on ber course again.” Then he turned to his charr, and studied it as intently as before. He bad before him the coast of France, with the chops of the Channel in the middle of the map, and was studving the distance to various points, with the dividers, “There is no port so safe as L’Orient,” he muttered, ‘‘It is easy of access and exit. The French war is over now, and the blockaders are not out. It is true that the French are no longer the enemies of England, but they will do all they can to help us, for the sake of old times,and a Bourbon now sits on the throne once more. Then the India fleet will be coming home, with no idea of danger, now that the war is over with France, and still less idea that a single ship would dare to beard the lion in bis den. That is the best chance that we have, ne if I do not make the name of Blakeley a famous as that of Blake, it shall not be for the want of tr ying. Here inthrop came into the eabin, looking much more placid and at ease with bim- self than he bad before the arrival of the cap- tain of the Wasp. He had a sinile on his face - he entered, and said to the captain, in a gay one: “You don’t know what a load you have taken off gy Reso sn by coming as you did. I had begun to think that you must have cer- tainly perished, and was cudgeling my brains to imagine what we should do without Goma Blakeley smiled faintly, as he answered: “T ought to be very much obliged to you for the estimation in which you hold me. The anxiety is only transferred, Do you think 7 look as if I was perfectly happy?” Winthrop glanced at his commander, in the faint light of the swinging lantern, and saw that his face was very pale and had the marks of recent sorrow on it, in the furrows of the brow, “‘T hope,” he said, timid] had nothing to pain’ you, w sir,’ Blakeley shrugged his shoulders. “It is but a small affair,” be said. ‘You, Winthrop, who were born in the countr where your ancestors have lived for centuries, and where there is no doubt of the place where your duty belongs, have no idea of the straits that befall other men, who are exiles, and yet love the country of their birth. Itis no use to talk to you aboutit. You know I was not born in America, though I think { may say I have done my duty as well as any one of your natives who fought in this war.” © ‘*Nobody doubts it, sir,” exclaimed Win- throp, with generous enthusiasm. ‘‘No proud- er name is found in the navy than yours.’ Blakeley shrugged his shouldersagain, in that listless way, full of sadness, that the lieutenant had noticed before, ‘“‘Thathk you. You are kind to say it: but I know that we who are but adopted citizens, bave to prove our fidelity by meavs that you are not expected to give, I must signalize this cruise by doing something that no one has done yet. Thatis why I have been ashore in England and have chased this yacht into the channel, for the purpose of drawing some of their cruis- ers after me, I hearda gun justnow. Whence did it come?” “Brom up the Channel, sir, and it Jooked to me as if it was o pposite Plymouth, It came from a ship that carries long twenty -fours,” ‘*] thought so. It must be one of the new fri = ag Do ye think she can catch us to- nigh ~ he Winthrop the slin test chance, sir. While were away I tried the heels of the sloop aga bes everything I could find, and I am co ‘*that you have @ you were gone, lent that there is not a ship in the Channel that can come near us.” “Did you get chased by any of them while I was away?” “By nothing but that brig, that came after us, off Galway Bay. We kept out of ber way easily enough and tested ber at rer int. We can give ber our topsails any time. t had not been for a squall, that came up in the night, and forced us to run to sea, I think we should bave had to fight her, in sig t of the shore.” ‘Yor would haye been wrong, Winthrop. There is only one thing to do when we are tak- ing prizes. e must keep as far at sea as we can, and out of hearing of English ships. They are swarming in the Channel, and all acedns it. They have orders to sail for the sound of the guns, whenever they hear them, This frigate that is coming after us will set the rest on a wrong trail for several days, and we bave got to make the most of their mistake. As soon as we are clear of the chops of the Channel, stand out to the southwest.” Winthrop, thinking that the conference was over, was — to retire from the cabin, when hig superior sai ‘By the by, Winthrop, what do the men say about my absence, as far as you have heard?’ Winthrop hesitated for a moment, ti]] he had considered what to answer without offending his commander. “*T don’t know of course, any more than you do, sir, what the men say; for I do not mingle with them. But I have sounded the boatswain, and the petty officers, who hear them talking, and they think that the men are very glad to hear you have come back alive. They were be- ginning to get superstitious about your sudden disappearance, and to imagine all sorts of things.” ‘* As what, for example?” “‘ Well, sir, you must not be offended for I am only repeating, at your own request, the gossip of the forecastle; but there were men who said that you were an Irishman, and that it was likely that you might sell the ship to the English, to buy your pardon from the British Government.” Blakeley did not seem to be disturbed or an- gry at tbe news, for he only said quietly: ‘A most —— idea. But do you think they are read ht, if they see a chance?” ‘““Of that t oa is-no doubt, sir. They are only too anxious to do it, anyhow. They are sick and tired of this dodgin about the chops of mole ane doing nothing but play hide and see ‘“They shall have no more of it; Winthrop, The time has past for that. To-morrow opens a new era for this ship, and the veriest fighters: on board shall have all the fighting they want, By the by, I have something to tell you. Yow do not know what I went ashore for.’ Me entirely, sir.” Perma ‘It was partly for the purpose of obtainin aeferaner pe that could be obtained in no ether ; way, and partly to see what was left of my family. Fs ore hnis time, Wintbrop, I have no ambition but to do all the barm to land that I can, and to humble her pride by every means. Will ou join me in doing that?” ou know I will, captain.” “Shake hands on it, then. The first ship we have to take is the Reindeer.” Winthrop grasped the hand of his command- er, as he said: “The Reindeer shall be taken.” “Then we have to go to L’Orient, and I shall want you to meet a lady there, who will come ahoaeh the ship, and be with us henceforth.” Winthrop stared at his captain. * A lady, sir?” ‘«My sister, Winthrop. Ishould have brought her away from England with me, but the dan- ger was too — She will meet us in France, fr we do not get sunk before we reach there.. You are not unwilling to do this for me: are you, Winthrop?” Po ecesteg colored slightly, and smiled as he a Certainly not, sir, if you are willing to trust the youvg lady i in my hands,” “Tam, Winthrop. You know that it is a hard thing to convert a woman, when she has a notion, and my sister bas been brought up in England, with the notion that England is the only country in the world. You will bave to be careful about offending her prejudices; and I have no patience myself to do that. When et to L’Orient, I shall send you in, alone, to fetch her.” ‘*T shall be proud of the commission, sir.” And there was a li io in the eyes of the young man that showed that he was telling the tru Then the captain signified, by bending over bis map again, Fohat he wished to be left alone, and the lieutenant went quietly outof the room, and the rest of bis watch on deck, gazing at the stars, and jor on a what sort of a per- son the captain’s sister m = os be, of whom be had never heard before th Oliver Wintbro Feng alveaty’; as near ne in love as a man be, who was thinking of a woman he bad nrc seen in bis -life, } a a ? a 5. ‘i Pree Ba Rs Sak ee Sr nl Se Remind the report of another and much heavier gun 2 AR ah A Rata aos 1 et: les ASN ea vit) ee ~ het ive alin A ADRN aes Y ke .
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Ea ee ems ee De oe ee The Lost Corvette. CHAPTER XIX. A RARE PRIZE. Lorp JOHN MANNERS was pacing the deck of the Reindeer in his usual lonely fashion. The brig was off the southwest coast of Ireland, standing out to the middle of the ocean, with a view to intercept the strange ship that had been reported so often as hanging around the | entrance to the English Channel, on the hunt | for merchantmen, coming home from India. The Reindeer had been on that search for several days, but had seen nothing of the ship she was looking for, since it had eluded her on the coast of Galway. The brig, after passing the morning in sailing | slowly along, frequently changing her course, whenever a sail hove in sight, examine whether it might not be the long-soughbt-for Wasp, bad hove to for the purpose of taking the sup at mid-day, and ascertaining the latitude and longitude. When the altitudes had been worked out, the first lientenant came to Lord John to say: **I make ber out to bein latitude 49, north, sir, and I’m blowed—I mean I beg pardon, but I think we are in longitude 8.15, west.” ‘‘The deuce we are! I had no idea we had gone so far west, Bunt. You must set her head to the east again. Stand for the coast of France, Weare as likely to find her there, as any where.” ; “ Quite as likely, and a little more so, sir. In fact, I think that, if we can only run into her there, we'can have a chance of getting a square figbt out of her.” : The course of the brig was changed to the east, and she kept it steadily till the sun began to send his slanting rays across the waves, and give token that he had an intention of going to rest for the night. It was just at this moment that the lookout announced a small yacht dead abead; and the captain, who bad not hitherto seen it, on ac- count of the glare of the sun, found that the yacht was close aboard the brig, and in evident distress. There bad been heavy weather the night before, and it was probable that she had been out in it and suffered thereby. She had lost her long topmast, and the slender jibboom that had swelled out so many huge sails, as the little clipper cleft the waves; while ber single mast had been sprung so badly that she was unable to carry anything more than a rag of sail, and so had proved easy to overhaul. As the brig came up to her, the captain ‘noticed that she had no signal of distress flying, and that she seemed te be anxious to avoid the vicinity of the man-of-war; for she kept her course steadily to the eastward, and made no effort to. approach the larger vessel, for the pur- of ‘asking belp, as would naturally have n expected, Perhaps this was the reason that Lord Jobn, who was naturaliy suspicious, altered bis course - as to go close to the cutter, and hailed her as 8 ~ ‘Yacht ahoy! D'ye want any help?’ “No, thank you,” was the answer from the deck, asa big ‘man, in a watch-coat and sou’- wester, turned his head that way, and instantly averted it. ‘* Weare going into L’Orient, and shall be able to get all we want there.” The captain looked at the big man rather more suspiciously than before. The weather was fine, and there was no necessity of any one being muffled up like that, in such pleasant breezes, He turned to his secund lieutenant, and said quickly: “Mr, Howard, I don’t like the looks of that fellow. lam inclined to think he must be a smugeler. Take a boat and go aboard him. Find out whatis the reason that man wants to "pide his face.” Howard, by no means loth for the job, for he liked change, took the jolly-boat and rowed to the yacht, which was unable to escape, and therefore took the visit quietly, When be got on deck. he found the big man in the watch-coat, standing by the binnacle, and to him he addressed several questi bea, Which the other answered so evasively, that the officer atlastsaid: «“ Well, my friend, I shall have to send you on board the brig and search the cutter my- self.” " The proposition seemed to be a very vnwel- come oue to the other, for he at once chan ged his manner, and said to Howard, in a tone of confidence that showed he had been playing a ti: Per Look here, lieutenant, can’t I have a mo- ment’s talle to 73 where these fellows can’t ar what is sa : gy Piers | not knowing what to make of him went to one side of the deck, and asked him: ” ‘Well, what is it now? The big man whispered to the officer, in the same confidential way: “Now, look bere, sgh, dpurt you're fa ia ‘lives on your pay, at you can get who oy and tem a man who lives by what he ‘ean make. I don’t mind yar you that, if this is stopped, ro one will make anytbin pe yr it, oie at the same time Iam ready to give a hundred j getting off to the French coast, without being searched. Now it is easy enough for you to go back, and tell your skipper that it is all right, in the cutter and then, all you will have to do | will be to put this little wad of paper into your pocket, and. spend it when you get to shore. | : Howard listened to him as if he had been in | a trance, It was something so new to the haughty, aristocratic young man, to bave a per- son openly attempt to bribe him to neglect bis duty, that, for a minute he was inclined to laugh at the other. en he got angry and repped out: ‘*- You infernal, insolent, smuggling scoundrel, how dare you talk to me, in that manner? Do you think his majesty’s officers are to be bought off by your paltry hundred-pound notes? The big man at once retorted: “Tf that isn’t encughb. say whatis, and you shall have it. I'll give five hundred pounds, if ou like. Come, lieutenant, that’s a fair offer. ive hundred pounds, and no questions asked.” Howard’s only answer was to turn round to his coxswain, and beckon him over, saying: ‘‘Take this man to the brig, Johnson, and let the captain talk tobim, He is a smuggler, and we shall keep the cutter.” The big man was asked his name, and sullen- ly repli f 1 that they could get it out of his men, if they ! , ) wanted. There were only four or five men on | the cutter, at the time, and the man at the helm was stone deaf, as it turned out, when they came to questioning bim. The rest of the crew showed such astonishing stupidity, when asked the commonest questions, that the suspicions of Howard were strongly excited, and he ended in searching the cutter from deck to the bot- tom of ber bold, without finding anything to reward his curiosity in tke way of contraband goods. In fact the cutter seemed to be empty of everything but the provisions and stores that showed she might have been going on a cruise of three months or so. At last Howard went irto the cabin, and there he found the. state-rooms, on one side of the vessel, lockéd, which was the first thing that gave him an inkling what to do. Calling for an ax, he split the dcors open, one after the other, and found, in the berths, under mat- tresses and blankets, all sorts of valuable goods, that packed into small space, and conclusively showed that the cutter was a smuggler, trying to esca Full of eager excitement at his discovery, he went from door to door, smashing in every one that was locked, and at last came to the only door that had not yet been searched. It opened into the largest and best cabin in the yacht, fe the nearest amidships and the least ex- osed to the motion, a thing of some importance 1 vessels of that class. He was about to break open this last door, when it was suddenly opened from the inside, and the astonished lieutenant was confronted, to his intense amazement, by a young girl of ex- treme beauty, who came out, as pale as death and managed to say, in tones of great fear an distress: “Ob, sir, for God’s sake do not kill me! Iam not anybody who has committed a crime, I assure you,” _ The change from the excitement of smashing in doors an fivding treasures to thrt of meeting a young lady who was obviously frightened to death, was so great, that Howard dropped the ox in shame, and flushed scarlet with embar- rassment, as he stammered: ‘Who are you, and how did you come here?” “J em a passenger to L’Orient,” was the reply, in the same tone of terror, as if the speaker expected every minute to be killed. ‘*I have done no harm, indeed, sir, and I hope you will not burt my uncle for shielding me.’ “Your uncle; who is he?” asked Howard, looking round, and not connecting the big man in the sou’wester with the fragile and beautiful creature before him, “He was on deck when your ship came up, and he told me to lock myself into the cabin,” said the young lady, as she colored before the ardent gaze of the lieutenant. ‘‘He said that the sailors on the men-of-war were always a bad lot, and would be sure to insult me. Are they, sir? Iam so much afraid of sailors,” Howard thought, as she spoke, that he had never seen or heard such a sweet creature in his life. He wished, at the moment, that he had not broken down so many doors, and that he had not frightened the gir} 50 much, To allay her fears, he said, with his sweetest smile: “Mv dear young lady, if I bad had the slightest idea that you were here, I should never bave done what I have done. As an officer of his majesty’s navy, I have to perform my duty; but I do not desire to do it harshly,” ut all his sweet words did not seem to re- assure the girl, who kept looking round the cabin, at the scene of destruction thet was visi- ble, and had the expression of one who was frightened out of her wits. To relieve her evident anxiety and terror for herself, the lieutenant sent the men out of the | ; unds for the privilege of | cabin who were engaged in the work of destruc- tion, and then said to the lady again: “Now, madam, I hope that — will not be so much frightened at what has been done. May I ask your namef I have to tell the captain, when 1 go back to the Reindeer.” The name of the brig seemed to produce @ singular effect on the girl, for she repeated it, with an inquiring accent: : ‘*Tne Reindeer! Surely that is not the name of the vessel to which you belong, sir?” ‘The same, I assure you.” ‘** And tbe captain—bis name is Manners, is it not?” she pursued, in the same tone of interest, looking at Howard in a way that made him wish he could have her beside him all the time. 8 it Lord John Manners that commands er?” “The same, miss—ah, I beg your pardon, what name shall I say?’ said Howard, in his sweetest tones, The young lady, who bad been so timid a moment | efore, drew herself up like a q@en, and replied: “6 Tell Lord John Manners, sir, that the daughter ot The Blake of Castle Blake is here, and that he can slay her, as he slew her father, as soon as he wishes,” Howard was so mucb surprised at the change of tone, that be couid only stammer, unmean- that it was nobody’s business, and | ingly ren bim#— Pardon me—but—I don’t quite understand. The -ab—Blake of Castle Blake— I—what is that, please?” : The girl turned round to the state-room, and re-entered it with a grand sweep, saying as she went: i “Tell him what I said, and he will under- stand.” Then she shut the door in his face, with a boldness that contrasted with her previous timidity, and. Howard, not knowing exactly what to do, but shamed out of any further violence in the yacht, went on deck again, and saw the brig coming down on the yacht, as if sbe was impatient at waiting so long. The tieutenant let the brig cdme alongside, when he bailed ber with the cry: “Brig ahoy! Is the captain there?” “What is it?” asked the clear voice of Lord Jobn, as he looked over the side. ‘‘ This fellow that you sent aboard is as obstinate as a mule, Howard. Have you found anything?” “Yes, sir.” responded his subordinate, with some confusion, ‘‘ There is a lady aboard, and, if you please, sir, I think that she will not cane aboard the brig, unless you come for er. a John seemed to be surprised, as he said; ““Me come aboard! What are you talking about, sir? Are you going mad? Send her aboard the brig instantly, if there is any trouble. J can’t afford to go to that yacht.” Howard touched his hat, as he answered: ‘Very good, sir, I'll tell the Jady.” Then he went down to the cabin, and found the door shut again. He knocked at it and said, in the most polite way he could: “Miss Blake, if you please, the captain of the brig would like to see you.” The door was instantly opened, and the girl came out, saying as easy as before: “*T am ready, sir. Lead me to the captain.” Howard offered his arm, and took the ycung lady to the deck, where the boat of the Rein- deer lay by the gangway, waning for its load. She made no objection to going into the boat, and stepped in as if she was used to the sea. Then she was rowed to the man-of-war, and soon after stood on the deck of the Reindeer, surrounded by a crowd of curicus officers, who stared at her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration, &s she stood there, err mew, not to see anybody or anything; but betraying; by the flush of her cheek, the consciousness of being stared at. Lord Jobn on bis part was so muth overcome by the sight of the girl; who was of extraordi- nary beauty, that he forgot his politeness for a minute, and was only recalled by the besitating cough of Howard, who said formally: “This is the lady, sir. The daughter of The Blake of Castle Blake, she says.” Had some one struck the captain in the face, he could not bave looked. more thunderstruck and astonished by the words of the lieutenant, innocent as they were. He turned red and then pale, and said hurriedly to the gir!: ‘‘Be kind enough to walk into my cabin. Tf am sorry to have to stop the yacht, but my duty has to be done,” “ : The young lady faced bim, with a boldness that surprised Howard, who had seen how timid she naturally was, and replied clearly: “Are you Lord Jobn Manners, the son of the the Duke of Rutland?’ “Tam,” said the captain, with a slight flush on his face. The girl smiled on bim with a strange ex- pression, as she answered: ‘Then you are the son of the man who mur- dered my father, and his son has sworn to avenge him on you. I am Rose Blake. You are the son of a traitor. Doas you will with me; for my death will be avenged soon.”
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CHAPTER XX. THE TWO PRISONERS. __ Ir thereis nothing else in the pride of race that prevails in the countries of Europe where the nobility still lingers, itis apt to produce a good deal more tact than is commonly found in more republican countries, The officers of the Reindeer perceived in a moment that some family quarrel was on the carpet, and they managed to slip off from the victeity of the cap- tain as soon as the girl had uttered her singular speech before the whole deck—in fact, they shruok away asif the pair had been stricken with the plague, ~ Even Howard, who thought that he had a right to stay, was so much appalled by the open accusation, that he also shrunk away from the group, and hurried away on an imaginary errand, Thus it happened that Lord John was left all alone with the beautiful stranger, who contin- ued to gaze at him witha look as if she would like to kill him with her eyes, while she repeat- ed, in no less earnest tones, though lower: “Yes, sir; you know it, though I did not un- tila few daysago. Your father was a traitor, and he had my father hung, and made my bro- ‘ther an outcast—and all that you might be Lord John, and have the good things of this world. But he is coming—he said so, and he never lies, for he is The Blake of Castle Blake, and they al- ways keep their words, Your race is nearly Tun, so you had better kill me now while you have the opportunity.” : While she was talking Lord John was look- y. ing at her closely, bus be was hardly able to i 3 make out what she was. The first impression BS doo had was that the girl was a maniac, who had a grt to sea somehow, but there was a look in her “i, lue eyes that forbid that assumption. She was excited and angry, but by no meens mad. ee talk to make it an undoubted case of madness. OF He had beard this sort of thing recently from @ man who was very sane indeed. He affected to think that she was out of her A? mind, however, and answered her soothingly: aN “There, there, my poor girl! don’t excite ¥ yourself, or it will make you ill. What is it ; that you want of me?’ To go home? You shail és do so at once. I had intended to keep the =! yacht, but nowI shall let it go. It would be 2 ‘too bad to deprive you of a support.” The girl looked him over from head to foot, 2 as she answered: oh ra ‘“‘And you are the Manners that is called ; Handsome Jack? [ have heard of you before.” any & The words piqued Handsome Jack, who was atts the horizon for the sail that had © aloft, watchin vanished so su org & The captain of the brig went below at mid- night, and found that tue two prisoners had been confined in one of the state-rooms that opened or the main-cabin, the girl having re- fused supper and the man having told the stew- ard, who came to call them, that he and bis niece would need nothing to eat “ till the Amer- icans took the brig.” ; Lord John was too anxious about the whe abouts of the ship that bad so suddenly disap- peared to pay much attention to the news; but when the morning came he was surprised, when he went out into the cabin before ascending on deck, to find that the male prisoner bad come out of the state-room in which he bad been con- fined, and was looking out of the stern windows of the Reindeer with an eagerness of gaze that showed he saw something interesting. Naturally the first place to which Lord John’s eyes turned, as be came on deck, was the spot on which the man below had been looking. It was to leeward and astern of the brig, the Jast place that the lookout would inspect at or- divary times, danger being always expected from ahead and to windward, But it was there, on the lee quarter of the Reindeer. in the first flush of dawn, on the 28th of June, 1814, that the sails of the ship that had eluded the brig so long, were seen shining, in the red light of the morning. She was close-hauled, under short canvas, having evidently passed the night in the same cautious fashion as the Reindeer, to wait for what the morning might bring forth. From the position in which she lay, it was doubtful to Manners whether her crew saw the Reindeer yet; f r the strange ship bad her head away from the English vessel, and beyond her were several sails that had come on the scene during the darkness of night. One of these, from its dark-brown color, was obviously a French fishing-boat, that had been driven out to sea, the night before, but the other was a sbip, whose size and square sails , ed her the appear- ance of a frigate or a large Indiaman. As soon as Manners saw be bad the advantage of the stranger, from the accidents of the night (for the weather-gage had become bis, without a struggle, and be had it in bis power to chase the strange ship to the coast of France if he pleased), he ordered the sails set to close, and stood after the stranger. The men came tumbling up on deck, in the bright light of the early summer sun, and the deck of the Reindeer scon preseuted a very ani- mated and picturesque appearance, The vessel was headed to the eastward, so that the sunlight shone across the decks, and dazzled the eyes of the men as they looked for- ward, toward the stranger, The last thing they bad seen of her, the night before, she had been in the midst of the setting sun, and the first thing they saw of ber in the morning, wis in the beums of the rising sun. Meunwhile the stranger had spread all her canvas, as soon «s the sun had fairly risen, and was standing off after the distant Indiaman, as if desirous to cultivate a closer acquaintance with her. That the strange ship was not a frigate, but something more yulnerable, was made: plain from the fact that, as soon as the American - made sail to close, she spread all the canvas she tr to escape, and made away to the east- ward. ‘She is an Indiaman, beyond a doubt, and the Yankee is after her,” said the captain to Bunt, as be watched this maneuver. ‘‘ Weshall have all we can do to stop bim from closing be- fore we get up.” Bunt looked at the Yankee ship for some time vefore he answered this remark. ‘He don’t see us, my lord, and he’s too anx- ious to catch that Indiaman, to notice us,” he said. ‘‘As soon as the day is fairly up, he will turn for us, or lam much mistaken.” “One thing I am determined on,” said the captain, in bis most obstinate way; ‘‘that he does not get away from us to-day, as he bas be- fore. We have the weather-gage, and he can- not escape, unless I give bim a point, and I don’t feel much inclined that way, to-day.” The morning wore on for another bour,‘and by the time eight bells were struck, and the men at their breakfasts, the stranger bad given up the pursuit of the Indiaman and had turned her head toward the brig. She was making stretches to windward, pobp Fonn to regain the weather-gage, that had been lost in the darkness of the vight, but without avail, so far as the immediate result was concerned, The Reindeer held too much of an advantage to be easily given up, and as scon as Lord Jobn saw his enemy was willing to close he began to act as cautiously as if he knew the character of the contest he was about to provoke, hes He kept stretching to windward and getting further to sea all the time, with a view of. test- ing how much Oe the enemy had over m in ee bat the Wasp was a swift ship, and could do wonders on a wind, he knew already; but be was resolved not to fight till he
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could do so with all the advantages in his own favor. The morning was worn away in maneuvering ‘to gain Be gore and it was noon before the two vessels had closed to within three miles, when the English captain was surprised to see the ‘prisoners of the yacht, who had come up unseen, and were meer isae on the quarter-deck looking longingly at the distant ship. It was the first time Lord Jobn had had a goed opportunity to look at the girl who had een taken so strangely the night before, and he was struck by the fact of her beauty. The sight of it caused him a slight thrill of pity that chances of a sea-fight, in the horrors of which she was about to be plunged, and he approached her to say: go aboard your own yacht, if she has not disap- peared, and get out of this brig. We shall go into action ina very short time, and this will be no place for you.’ The girl made no answer; but her male pro- tector said for her: ‘““You are very kind, sir; but where is the yacht? She seems to have disappeared. I fear ‘we shall have to witness the taking of this brig ‘by the Yankee yonder; and to tell the truth we shall not be sorry for that. We are both Irish, and you know how much cause we have to love the English.” Manners smiled as the other spoke, and said in answer: «Well, sir, you are frank, and I will be equally frank. I don’t intend to be taken, I can assure you, and that there may be no mistake about my intentions, you will see the Yankee laid aboard aS soon as we get into the proper distance, 1 have heard that the captain of that ship is a traitor on whose head a price is laid in England; and if he is caught we shall give him a short sbrift, you may be sure.” The girl, who bad been listening to the con- versation, here gave a low, bitter laugh, and said to the captain in an undertone: ‘But suppose he gets the best of you, how then, my lord? He will be justified in hanging you at the yard-arm for the treason of which your father was guilty. Will he not?” Lord John shrugged his shoulders and said to Bampton: ? “If you want your child, niece, or whatever I suppose that she bas been taken off by the prizemaster to keep her out of danger of cap- ture by that Yankee. He was right, for there is no use in ruoning risks for the sake of trai- tors.” The prisoner looked off to the eastward, and * saw there, not far from the Wasp, a little white dot on tie sea, which he indicated. “There is the yacht, and she will be retaken ‘by the corvette if we do not save her,” he said, “Tf you wish to protect your prizs crew, you had better stand toward them aud fight the enemy, my lord, or they will be apt to experi- ence the tender mercies of a Yankee prison,” Lord John looked at the little white dot, and saw that it was a loug way off; so he answered: “The prize crew can take care of themselves, and the enemy can take care of himself. Take the lady below into the run of the Lay I shall go into action within a quarter of an hour now, sir.” Bampton turned to Rose, and asked her: “Will you go below, or would you like to gs Bg: gee the Yankee take this brig? rd Joln interrupted bim angrily. “Go below, sir, at once, and remember that, whatever the name and nationality of this jady, you, at least, are an English subject, and liable to be hung at the yard-arm. Go, sir, unless ou want the master-at-arms to hurry your oolsteps.” Bampton bowed with a great deal of. polite- ness, and turned to go as he had been ordered, with the remark, as a Parthian arrow: “We won't be Jong there; this brig will be a ‘Yankee prize in half an hour.” Then he went below with the girl, and Lord Jobn, whose temper was strangely ruffled by the seemingly wanton insolence of the two prisoners he had treaied with such rare polite- ness and consideration, ordered them into the run, a sentry over them, with orders to the man not to let them come on deck, till he had special directions from the captain himself. Then he turned to his duties, and the, brig was put with her bead toward the stranger. The moment the bead-sheets were let go, the distance between the two ships became less and less with marvelous rapidity, and it was plain that they would meet, in a very few minutes after they bad once set their courses to each other. ¢ CHAPTER XXII. CLOSE ry Pe ee THE was now no coubi in the min crew rg Reindeer that the ship inag het oy often met, and which bad so often eluded them, 4] was at last coming to fight them, and the news | made them roportionately excited. ‘A little after noon, the captain began to sig- - i y > * ¢ 5 ‘oe A~, r _ os 4 ers ied pos tT) i 3 Ses Ahi nals 7 Ol ae Sa TE ag Se Lh int ee ee 5 en Ta eee fe hl PS Oy See one so beautiful should be exposed to the | ‘“Young lady, the best thing you can do is to | gbe is, to be safe to-day, you bad better take | her below, if the yacht does not beave in sight. | Be A by. The. Lost Corvette. 19 nal, with a view of finding out if the strange ship would try to answer him, and gaining time by distracting her attention. The signals were answered, but the reply proved totally unintel- ligible to the Englishman. At one o’clock the two were at a distance of a mile, at which, had they been frigates with long guns, the action would have natural! commenced, As it was, both being armed wit nothing but carronades, and a single long- twelye—hardly a serious piece in an affair of this sort—were content to close with each other, before they pretended to open fire. The Wasp had the best of the sailing, but the Reindeer, having the weather-gage, kept it, and held aloof till the stranger had tacked again and again, trying to eat her way up to windward, At twoin the afternoon the ships were less than balf a mile apart, and Lord John Manners called his crew aft to the heel of the mainmast, where he made them a short speech to this effect: ‘Men, you are British sailors, and the ship that comes yonder is a Yankee, one of those rebels and apostate English fellows, who are the disgrace of the name. Don’t think that the Yankees won’t fight, for they will; but they won’t fight like ovr men, when their blood is fully up. Iam going to lay that fellow aboard, and try to carry him by boarding, for I know he has heavier metal than we, and we shall get the worst of it, if we fight him with the guns, at long bowls or anything of the sort. All I want of you is to go aboard that Yankee, when I lead ou, and to try what British sailors can do, to Cee the name of Nelson in honor, here in the very seas where he made himself immortal. If there is a man who is afraid to board, and peril | his life, let him step out now, and I will let him | go below, and take care of the hold. The men who are not afraid will give three cheers.” The answer that came from the throats of the sailors was of the kind that the captain bad ex- pected. They cheered him to the echo, and proved so eager to close with the enemy that he | gave the order: | ‘*Let go the head sheets and stand toward | the enemy. Lay her aboard, quarter-master.” | Hitberto the Reindeer had been close-hauled, | to preserve the wheather-gage, and the enemy | bad been following ber in the same way, on the | same track, trying to eat her way to the wind- ward. As Lord John gave bis last orders the | brig put ber head toward the sbip, and went . raskide down the wind, with the velocity of an angry tiger, while, the Wasp coming to meet her, the two vessels were within a cable- length of each other before the men had time to get over their first excitement. ‘he Reindeer found the Wasp in the act of wearing, as she got by her, and bung on ber quarter, where she used her shifting carronade on the forecastle with good effect, firing it into | the Wasp with precision, at less than a hundred yards. Every sbot struck and the splinters flew from the American ship; while Lord Jobn, with a shout of triumph, valled out to his men: “That’s it, boys; give it to the cowardly Yankees!” The American ship had got into some difficul- ty with her yards and had missed stays, at the moment when he called this out, so thata slight temporary advantage had been gained by the Reindeer. Tben the wind caught the sails of the Wasp, and she shot ahead and Juffed round the bows of the English brig, when both delivered their Teoadeites, at less than half musket-shot dis- nce, For a few moments after that, the smoke was so dense, and the crash of timbers and planking so confusing that it was difficult to see what was being done; but the captain of the English brig knew, from the sounds of yelling and groaning, that his vessel was getting the worst of the exchange of broadsides, as well she might when the one vessel threw twenty-four pound shot, and the other thirty-twos. ‘The effect of the carronades moreover, at such close quarters was much more severe and terrifying than that of long guns. The carronades carried heavier shot than came ge the guns of most frigates | at that time, and they smashed things, as they | sent their missiles, while the shots of the long | guns, from their superior velocity, were apt to _ go through the enemy at one biow. | °"Lord Jobn, in the first glance that he caught of the way everything was going, as the wind blew the smoke away for a moment, saw that the deck of the Reindeer was already a mass of 1 wreck, where the bulwarks had been smashed to bits, and the feet of the two masts eaten away by the shots, so that they were both tot- tering, though the action had not lasted longer than ten minutes. He also saw that the bow- snrit of the Reindeer wxs hanging over the quarter of the Wasp, while the American ship bad backed her maintopsail, and was lying motionless on the water, so as to fire more stead- ily at ber mark, The brig, on the other hand, had just filled her headsails by an accidental turn of the helm, and was moving down on the enemy. The brave young officer saw the only chance oer : , E Rye . an Hen nee eS eS ee ICE ee Se ae OO eae eS Se Fe Tee Ee PO Tee SE OE ee ee ee ee ee ew ven SE tate ARE FS BaeGe ale: that he bad. His upper works were being knocked to pieces so fast that it was only a question of a few minutes when his masts would go by the board, and the Reindeer be left a helpless wreck on the water, when he must strike to his foe. He rushed forward to the waist of the brig, where the men could hear him, and roared at the full stretch of bis voice: * Boarders away ! 1!” The men beard the cry, so familiar, at that day, in small vessels, where the expedient of boarding, which was rare in frigates, was more often used, and they came running to the side of the captain, with the more readiness that the battery of the brig was all on deck, and the cry bad not far to go to reach them. In another moment the bowsprit of the brig passed over the side of the Wasp, and the des- peice young nobleman rushed to the knight- eads and sprung on the heel of the bowsprit, to board the enemy. The water was smooth at the time, and the wind so light there was no difficulty in the operation. The Wasp had a low quarter, and the Roindeer was a bigh built brig, so that the English vessel, while much the smaller of the two, had the advantage in hight, and ber men were able to jump down on the decks of the Wasp from a sligat elevation, headed by Lord John Menners, who had drawn his sword and was fighting in advance of all, with a desperate ferocity that at first threaten- ed to carry all before it. He was followed by bis men, with a steadi- ness that was beyond praise; for the British sailor, whatever his faults, will always fight. For some time the battle raged so furiously on the decks of the Wasp that the firing of the guns ceased entirely, and the only sounds audi- ble were the sharp reports of pistols and clash- ing of cutlasses, with the shouts and curses of the combatants, who fought with the desperate and savage vindictiveness that characterizes the sea duel of two enraged crews. In the confusion, it was not possible for any individuals to be recognized; but the brilliant uniform of the English captain, who was a great deal of a dandy in his way, and had put on bis full dress that day, made him a marked figure in the midst of the battle, Shot after shot was fired at him, as he cut down man after man in the melee, butit seemed he bore a charmed life, and bis party had pro- gressed from the extreme stern of the Wasp, where they had entered, to the heel of the miz- zenmast, where they were checked, at last, by a party of men, headed by a tall officer who ceme at Lord Jobn as if he bad a personal spite against him, shouting: ‘* Manners, Manners, Iam The Blake!” The only reply of the captain was to rush at the tall officer and engage with him, in a strife so desperate and savage, the sailors on either side stood still involuntarily to look on; their own fierce passions being sbamed by the man- ner of the two men who fought there. The Englishman was a Jittle the heavier of the two, and, as they were fighting with the same cut- lasses that. the men used the advantage of strength was by no means to be despised. A fight with cutlasses, on the deck of a ship, where both combatants are close to each otber, and in earnest, is a very different thing toa duel with broadswords or rapiers on shore, where both have their seconds, and are put at a proper dis- tance and watched, in case they should get too much excited. These two men were so anxious to hurt each other, that they forgot all caution, and struck like maniacs, hardly deigning to parry the blows that came as thick as hailstones. Before they bad exchanged three passes, the strength of the Englishman had driven the other back from the position be bad occupied, and as he retreated, Lord John shouted: ‘Forward, boys! The Irish traitor is giving in. Drive them into the sea! Into the sea!” The sound of that shout seemed to nerve the other leader. Gathering his sword in both hands, he made such a succession of sweeping blows at the Englishman, disdaining to parry, that he in turn drove back the other to the taff- rail of the Wasp, where the sudden retreat caused a panic among the men, and the cry arose: ‘Back! they are coming aboard!” The cry was sufficient to cause a momentery panic, and the English sailors rushed back to their own vessel, leaving bebind them a long trail of dead and wounded. Tbe captain, struggling and cursing at the re- pulse, was carried along with the rest, and sep- arated from bis antagonist, who had not utter- ed a cry all the time they were engaged. Then, when Manners looked back to the Wasp, he saw the enemy, gathered on the stern, ready to repel the boarders at the very thresh- old of the sbip.. He waved his sword again, and Jed on his men, but the energy of the first cnset was not to be equaled. The son of a duke could not inspire any more courage than they bad the first time, and the assault was repulsed with the more ease that the captain of the Yap- kee ship was at the bead of the boarders of
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20 ‘ the Wasp and had slewed round a cerronade that swept the deck of the Reindeer with fatal effect at the very moment Manners started to The awful volley of grape-shot, coming in their faces and tearing a lane through the midst of them, at the very moment of the onset, made a temporary pause, and the captain, wav- ing his sword, called in vain on the men to fol- low, till he sprung on the taffrail of the Wasp, all alone, and shouted, over the din: ‘‘ Leave your captain, if you dare, cowards!” Then they followed, with a rush, fand the fight was renewed on the decks of the Wasp, with a ferocity that lasted for nearly five min- utes of hard struggiing, in which the cold steel replaced the ammunition, which was almost ex- bausted for the time. Manners again led the storming ty, and mana to drive the Americans back long enough to gain a foothold of the decks of the Wasp when the American commander, for the first time, began to shout: ‘*Remember the Guerriere! Britisti!” Then arose, from the forecastle of the Ameri- can ship, a yell, sbrill and menacing beyond the sound of the British cheer. The men of the tala made a rush, and by main strength drove the Englishmen, cursin end struggling, but overborne by the weight o numbers, and jammed so close together that they had no room to use weapons, back to the stern of the ship, at which moment a wave came and parted the two vessels for a moment, ae as the rush was going over the stern of the asp. Tben came a cry of horror, as the figure of the British captain was seen on the top of the Wasp’s taffrail, staggering, for a minute, and then, followed by a number of men, falling ove rd between the two vessels, as the wave, that had parted them, sent them crash- ing together He In that lurch the English lost the battle, for they lost theircaptain, whose personal example had alone kept them up against overwhelming odds, for the last three or four minutes, Manners down, the rest was easy. The American captain, seeing their evident consternation, boarded in his turn, and down came the English flag, in a minute afterward. ; CHATER XXII. THE CONVOY. Tue captain of the Armada, British seventy- four-gun ship, was, as usual, guarding the weather side of the quarter-deck from the in- trusion of anybody less important than his first lieutenant, who was allowed there for the sake of giving his reports and consulting with the captain at stated times, or when it suited the convenience of thet august personage to call him up. The Armada was a seventy-four of the latest construction, built in India of teak, which is the best ship timber in the world, and she car- ried forty-two-pounders on her lower deck, which was a much heavier battery than Nel- son’s Victory bad fought with at the battle of Trafalgar. The Armada was a good ship, of her class, in heavy weather, and had run past several sloops on the way from India, having won the reputa- tion of being one of the fastest saips in the British navy. Her captain, Lord Augustus Paget, was an- other sprig of aristocracy, like Manners, being the brother of Lord Uxbridge, who was in the army, and well known as the favorite of the Duke of Wellington. Lord Uxbridge was a dandy of the first water, and his brother was a navy dandy, who took more trouble than the army fop to get himself up in a style to attract the attention of the fair sex, It may be asked where the fair sex were to come from, in the case of Lord Augustus, and the answer, at the time that the Armada was descried in the offing, was that the ship was es- cort to a fleet of Hast Indiamen, in the days when Indiamen were always full of ladies: so that there was plenty of opportunity for the ex- ercise of the fascinations of the captain, The ship was sailing along under short can- vas with the sea all round her, covered with the sails of ber convoy, and the scene was one of great brightness and animation, The India- men of that date generaliy had their sails of the ellowish native grass cloth that takes so finely n pictures; and their tall, heavy hulls, with the stern galleries and rows of ports, gave them a majestic appearance that reminded the be- holder of a fleet of line-of-battle ships, but for the straggling order in which they were scat- tered over the sea. ‘ The Armada had to keep on the outskirts of the flock, hurrying up this one and that one, and firing occasional signal-guns to draw in some sbip that had fallen astern, or was goin ahead, out of the radius of fire within whic alone there was safety if an enemy should chance to appear. Lord Augustus was saying to his first lieuten- ant that he thought of taking his gig’ and visit- ing the Bombay, one of the handsomest ships of Down with the The Lost Corvette: the convoy and on which he had several friends, for the purpose of taking dinner with the cap- tain, who had invited him a bundred times, when he was startled by the sound of guns at a great distance off, coming down the wind at in- tervals. The boom of a gun was too well known in those days, when Europe had only just ended for a few months, the greatest war that had convulsed her since the dare of the great Fred- erick, and the captain began to snuff the air and say to bis first lieutenant: ‘* Harwood, what the deuce can that be?” ‘Tt sounds yery like guns, my lord,” was the tranquil var gd Harwood was not by any means sorry to see the captain’s little trip to the Indiaman spoiled. Harwood had, in fact, aspirations of his own in that direction, and he. did not like the cap- tain to take advantage of bis superior rank, to go off in the gig, and leave bis first lieutenant to do all the work for him. The first lieutenant knew that, if the firing went on, bis captain would have to stay on board the ship, to take care of the convoy. So the two men listened, with different thoughts, to the firing. Paget thought it a bore; Harwood thought it very lucky. The cannonading went on with great ra- gare for nearly half an hour, when it sudden- y stopped, and the captain said, with an air of great relief: “‘T imagine it does not amount to much, Some privateer had a brush with one of the sloops-of-war or brigs, that are running | and down the coast of France all the time, and it is over. Order my gig, Harwood.” Harwood turned, with the face of a man who has taken a goes of vinegar, to the midshipman on duty, and told him to ‘‘ order the captain’s i a] Fhe shrill pipe of the boatswain’s whistle soon echoed through the ship, after which the. hoarse ery of the boatswain and his mates for the crew of the gig brought that assemblage of smart and well-built sailors to the side, in their best clothes, for it had become a regular thing, during the voyage, for the captain to go out paying visits to the Indiamen, that had the pretty ladies on board. The men of the gig were by no means loth to go: for they generally managed to get some- thing on bo the Indiaman that was honored by the visit of the magnate of the convoy. | While the captain was on the quarter-deck making love to the ladies, Jack was in the waist, with his mates of the merchant service, spinning yarns or making love to the pretty Hindoo ayahs, come over as nurses to the children of Indian officers that form such a Jarge part of the passengers on Indiamen, ‘Jack is not particular, when he finds a petti- coat, what color of woman it shields, and there was probably as much genuine love-making in the waist of the Bombay, that day, when the captain had gone aboard her, as there was on the quarter-deck, where there was spread a huge awning, under which the ladies of the ship were gathered around the handsome captain of the coovouiag man-of-war, hanging on every word that fell from his lips, and making him a little more conceited every moment. The lady that he bad really come to see, this time, though he made a pretense of being a eneral lover, was a young and rather good- ooking person of the name of Jane Stokes, who had the reputation of baving ‘three hundred thousand pounds in the funds, at home,” which had been accumulated by ber parent and guar- dian, the late Sir John Stokes, when in tbe civil service in India, where he had feathered his nest pretty well. Miss Stokes was inclined to look on the cap- tain with favor, for she was keenly sensible of the fact that ber father, who had only been knighted,* had left no title behind him, and had been a vulgar person witb all his wealth, To be a Lady Augustus Paget,” with a possi- bility of being the Countesa of Uxbridge some day, if the earl went off as there was a talk he might do any day, for be was a wild fellow, was one of those futures that filled the soul of Miss Stokes with joy, whenever she thought of it, which was very often. When Captain P..get came aboard, she had a way of admiring bim from afar, and casting sheep’s-eyes at bis boots, blushing furiously if detected; and the captain, nowise loth to be sure of his heiress whenever be chose to throw the handkerchief, was often pleased to cast tender looks her way, till it bad got_to be a well-understood thing, on board the Bombay, that, as soon as the fleet reached home, there would be a match, and the family of Paget would go up a notch in the peerage. To be sure, on the Seringapatam, where also the captain often visited, there was another heiress, who had more money than even Jane Stokes, but then she had the disadvantage tbat * The titles of knight and baronet in the English prerade are the same ‘Sir Blank Blank;’’ but the aronet’s “Sir” descends to his eldest son at death, while the title of a knight is not hereditary, and is | looked on with some contempt, on account of the class of people on whom it is conferred now . a erp eicpeearanveonpanlipertapaaaromaneenypedieaand cee tacnomcat eceakanicitee inet pemmeeaisnahaereteaee nea ann she was of the mixed blood that is looked dower on in India, under the name ‘‘ Eurasian,” which was régarded as an insuperable obstacle to the matcb. The Anglo-Indian ladies held up their eyes and hands in horror, when the idea was broached that such a thing could possibly take place, and when it was suggested that the cap- tain, not having lived in India, might, not be disposed to indulge in the prejudices of the Kast, and that the fair Eurasian, Minnie Moore by name, was very beautiful, and bad half a million in her own right, the ladies all said: “That is no consequence at all. Look at her finger-nails. That tells the story, Hemight as well marry a full-blooded negro at once, and have done with it,” To help these ladies in their confidence, they had no means of knowiag how wany times the captain of the seventy-four went on board the Seringapatam as compared with the Bombey and, when the gig was seen going the rcunds o the fleet on acalm day, it was often bard to say which ship it stopped longest at. Moreover there wasa great laxity of discipline on board the Armada, on that cruise; for the captain knowing tbat the wars were over, except the American contest, which was looked on as a mere fleabite, compared with the vast conflict which had just been waned between the giants of Europe, had given leave to many of his officers to go out with the boats on calm days, and visit the Indiamen all. round the fleet. And as,in coming up the coast of Africa there were always a good many cajms, it had become the custom, in the Armede, to hold festival on each of them, and the amount of ‘“heavy spooning,” that was done by the cfficers of the navy, in the various ships in the convoy, was almost beyond belief. At the very minute that captein Paget was making eyes at Miss Stokes and ber three hun- dred thousand pounds in the Bombay, Mr. Har- wood had taken the jolly-boat and gone ff to the Seringapatam, which ley at balf a mile away from the Armada, the last sbip being left to the care of the second lieutenant, while the convoy, in the light winds that prevailed, was clustered together in the strangest mass of bud- dled confusion; the big Indiamen spreading all their sails, while the man-of-war bed to brail up her courses to keep back with them, and avoid going out, abead of the fleet. Thus it happened, on that fine June afternoon, that no one particularly was on the lookout, and the shepherd of the flock was, as might be said, ‘‘ asleep, while the sheep were scattered.” It was white this delicious afternoon was go- ing on, and every one felt most secure, that Miss Stokes said to ber admirer: ‘What is that ship, Lord Augustus, over there, that looks as if she was coming to see us? Is it one of our own that has got out of the convoy?” be fom Paget looked in the direction indi- cated by the young lady, and saw a ship, with her masts in the disorder that marks the mer- chant service, to the eye of the navy officer, Her yards were swung at all sorts of angles, and her sails were not hoisted to the taut neat- ness of a man-of-war. There was only one thing about her that showed she was not of the fleet, being much smaller than the general run of the Indiamen. She was heading straight for the center of the convoy, where the Bombay sailed along, while the Armada, which had to lock after the whole of the fleet, was at least two miles off at the time, and hidden by the sails of her charges. It was hard to say what was the cause of the sudden pallor that overspread the face of ‘Cap- tain Paget, as he looked at this ship, but all the ladies on the quarter-deck of the Bombay noticed it, and Miss Stokes asked hastily: ‘*Oh, dear, I bope it is not a pirate?’ The captain of the line-of-battle-ship was too much aghast at the prospect of the damage that might follow his carelessness to make any answer. He saw that, the stranger was coming on in the midst of the convoy, and his prac- ticed eye saw, beneath the apparent disorder of the rigging, that the ship coming was strong- handed, She was too small for a merchant-sbip going to India, and, had she been an ordinary trader, she would never have come into the middle of the convoy. He leaped to the conclusien at once, and with reason, that she was un enemy. Her course was the only ground on which he founded his supposition, and be did not like t let the ladies know how much alarmed he was. He affected to treat the whole thing wiih levity, as he said: ‘There are no more pirates now. Miss Stokes, and the stories of Kidd are all exploded. That fellow is only a trader, who has lost bis reckon- ing and wants to get tbe latitude and longitude from us,” Then he rose up and added; ‘But it reminds me that T ought to he at my st, and that I shall rot bie A have to take eave of you all, and go back to the ship. That fellow may bave to be st and searched, Captain Jones, will you oblige me with a word for a moment apart The master of the Indiaman, who bad seen in
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sapee ey et > Lee Ss common with the rest that something was wrong, took the captain of the line-of-battle- ship to one side, and Paget said to him, hur- riedly: ‘That fellow isa Yankee sloop-of-war, and we are going to have trouble with him, if I don’t get back to the ship at once. I have ar- ranged a signal for the recall of the ship. Fire three guns in a volley closs together and then trust to luck for what will sen wg Captain Jones looked mystified at the order; but obeyed it promptly, and the ladies were soon surprised to see the sailors at work at some of the guns, carried by all Indiamen in the days of the Napoleonic wars, getting them into order to fire, : Of course the idea that there was going to be a noise frightened the ladies; but, as the cap- tain explained that it was ‘“‘only a signal” they concluded to wait, and, when the guns went off, all in a bunch, they only screamed @ little, and concluded that it was ‘‘not so bad after all.” The three guns from the Bombay set the whole fleet into commotion, for they were almost instantly answered from the Armada, CHAPTER XXIV. CUTTING OUT PRIZES. THe tall sails of the majestic ship Armada were seen through the press of the Tidicnlion. towering over tbe smaller craft, as she came sweeping down to protect ber convoy as soon as she had fired the answering gun. The sound of that guu produced a sudden transformation in the ship that had first attract- ed the notice of the young lady on the deck of the Bombay. , As if at the touch of a magician’s wand, the slovenly yards were swung straight and trim, and a slip of canvas, that bad been trailing over her side, to imitate the clumsy lines of a Dutch trader, fell off, and revealed the sharp outlines of a sloop-of-war of very fine model, which came sweeping down into tbe midst of the frightened convoy, like a wolf into the midst of a flock of sh ‘AN doubt as to her character was set at rest, when she suddenly opened a long row of ports, and ran up to the Seringapatam, which was at the head of the fleet, firing several guns at her in passing, the assault being followed by the almost instant fall of the Indiaman’s flag. “Then a boat was seen to drop from the side of the strange ship, and dart to the side of the India- mau, whose sails were crowded, as soon as the boat had boarded ber, in an effort to leave the fleet in the custody of a prize crew. The strange sbip, not waiting for the surren- der of the Seringapatam, came on toward the Bombay, and ranged up on her quarter, with guns out and port-fires lighted, her men at quarters, in the grim order which characterizes a mau-of-war going into action, and a voice shouted over the water: “Do you surrender, or shall I fire into you?” Captain Jones looked at bis guest, the captain of the man-of-war, as if to ask what was to be done; and Paget glanced over at the Armada, now coming on through the midst of the convoy, and said: hy him in talk as long as you can, Jones,” Captain Jones, with this for bis only cue as to what he should do, shouted back through the bah nee ‘* What sbip is gor hye what do you want?” “T want you to strike your flag,” was the re- ply. ‘Are you going to doit, or shall I fire? I give you just till Lcount five, One—two—three —four—" ‘*T surrender,” roared Jones, completel de- moralized at the peremptory summons, — heavens, man, ere, To ladies on this sbip, and ou will kill them a mi Heave to, then, and I will send a boat on board to take possession,” cried the commander of the stranger, who could be seen on the poop oft bis ship, in the uniform of some navy, sur- rounded by officers. é Then Captain Paget said to Jones hurriedly, with a pallid face: ; ‘Jones, am ruined, There is not time even to get the boat’s crew. What shall I do?’ he captain turned to the ladies, who were standing round, looking scared. ‘Cannot you ladies hide the captain for awhile?’ he asked, as he shifted uneasily from one foot to another, ‘There won’t be any dan- ger, as soon as the Armada comes up; but, in 4 time, we are at the mercy of this rate. The word “ pirate” caused a shiiek, and sev- eral ladies crowded round the captain, to hide him from the gaze of the enemy, in which con- dition he was whisked away down stairs, and into the cabin, where he was hidden in a state- room, while the rest of the ladies, fascinated at the spectacle of the strange ship, staid on deck to see what would come of the surrender, which they did not understand as yet. They saw a boat drop from the side of the ship, and come over the water to the Bombay. rowed by a neat crew, of men-of-war's-men, who wore the name “* WASP” on the front of their hats, and were all fully armed, with pistols and cutlasses. _ The Lost Corvette. They were. commanded by a young Officer, hardly more than a boy, whose might have been nineteen, and whose fair hair and smooth face gave him an appearance of greater youth than he really possessed. He climbed up the tall side of the ship, and said to the captain, with the curt decision of an older man: ** Fill away your maintopsail, captain, and stand out of the press. We have no time to lose; for that confounded line-of-battle ship is coming uP, as fast as she can,” ‘* Handle the ship yourself,” was the sulky re- ply of the captain, who naturally felt angry at the ease with which the capture had been ef- fected, ‘I’m not going to help you take my me he young officer smiled, as he said: ‘I think you had better do as I tell you, or the skipper may take a fancy to try a broadside, to bring you to your senses. So saying he went to the side of the ship, and bailed the other, which still lay, where she had backed her maintopsail, astern Uf the Bombay. The voung «fficer called out to her: “Wasp atboy! The Englishman refuses to fill his maintopsail. What shall I do, sir?” ‘*Shoot the captain, and give the command to the first mate,” was the reply. from the Wasp. ‘““We have no time to waste, sir. Shoot bim down, and, if the mate refuses, shoot him too. Make them work, or shoot them down.” The young man, who was Midshipman Geis- inger of the Wasp, turned to Jones, and drew his pistol, saying: “Very sorry to have to do it, captain; but you beard the orders—” And be was leveling the weapon to execute the merciless command, when the captain more demoralized than ever, exclaimed: “Don’t shoot! don’t shoot! I'll do what you ask,” Then, in desperate haste he shouted to his men, “Fill away the maintopsail! Lively, there, lively !” And the main yard was swung, with a will, while the young prize-officer went to the taffrail, witb a smile on his face, and said to the ladies, with great politeness: ‘‘ Sorry to have to intrude: but the ordersare strict. bave to search the ship and find who is on board, Wesaw aman in uniform godown- stairs, as we came up. You ladies can tell me who he was.” : There was a dead silence in the group of ladies, and no one answered him, though their hearts beat high, for fear he might find out what they had been doing. That he suspected what was the matter, at the bottom of their silence was plain, when be turned to the entrance of the round-house, and said, with the same polite smile that he had worn all along: “Sorry, very sorry, but I shall have tosearch the cabin, then.” And down-stairs be went, followed, ata signal, by four men, with their weapons ready for in- stant use, The captain of the Indiaman looked at his passengers, and then at the ship astern of him, which still kept in a raking tion, asifready, at the first sign of treachery, to open her bat- teries, and then bis gaze wandered to the Armada, which was still pushing through the midst of the convoy to the rescue, but was hampered by the fact that the wind was very light, and that the Indiamen were crowded in the path in such a way that the big ship was com- pelled to make frequent detours to avoid colli- sions with the clumsily handled craft. He saw that there was no chance of the man- of-war getting up in time to rescue the Bombay and saving the captain, and he rushed into the round-house to find the cabin in confusion, and the Yankee middy at the door of one of the state- rooms, where he was confronted by anumber of ladies, to whom be was saying witha manner that denoted, for the first time since he had been on onnd, sl * hesitation: ie ** Ladies, of you to give way; for I must do my duty.” goofy gi yi But the ladies stood firm, and seemed resolved to die at their posts rather than let the handsome captain be taken, ones, seeing that the resistance of the women could not save the captain, and might compro- mise them, went forward, and said to the young officer: “Sir, if you will take the men away from that door, I will pledge my honor that the per- son concealed in that state-room shall come out and surrender,” Geisinger seemed grateful for the coming of the captain, for he was only a boy after all, and the presence of the ladies had demoralized bim for a while, He drew back from the door, and said: ‘“‘T consent, sir, if you will open the door at once; but I cannot neglect my duty. Go back to the deck, boys. Keep the ship in the wake of the Wasp.” The men, who seemed to be glad to get rid of the job on which thay were engaged, went to the door and on deck, when Jones rap on the door of the state-room, and said distinctly: ‘*My lord, it is no use. The Yankees haye the best of us, You will bave to surrender.” 21 Then there- was a-wail from the ladies, as the captain of the Armada, his face crimson with mortification, came out of the state-room in his full uniform, and the astonished micshipman saw Ney game that he had unwittingly run to earth. Lord Augustus Paget bowed to him, stiffly, and said: ‘Well, sir, you have caught me napping, fairly, and I have no cause tocomplain. It my own fault,” : Geisinger bowed, rather puzzled, as he asked: i whom have I the houor of speaking. then, sir The English captain answered, with the grand air that never deserted him in misfortune: “‘Iam Lord Augustus Paget, captain of the Armada, and I was on a visit to this ship, when you hove iu sight. I suppose you will give me my parole to return, and take my ship -home, not to serve against your nation till ex- changed,” Geisinger was still more puzzled, brought up in the United States, in those simple times when there was not so much intercourse with Europe as to-day, and when the titles of Europe were not at all understood in America, he did not know what to make of the name of bis prisoner. He had, however, the prudence of a native American, and was too cautious to give up the rize of unknown value, that had fallen into is hands so suddenly. ‘*T am very sorry, sir,” he said, to the cap- tain, ‘‘ but you will have to go on board the Wasp, and be questioned by the captain. I don’t know anything about these things, you know. If you will come with me, we will go there together.” Paget, not knowing what else to do, bowed and answered: ‘* As you please, sir.” The ti preceded him on deck, and hesaw the Wasp bad gone past the Bombay, and was coming up into the wind again, to accom- modate her pace to that of the slow Indiaman, while the two were making the best of their wa out of the convoy, after the riche peeer whic had already gone off to leeward, and was fast getting out of gunshot, if the Armada should come up, which was not probable. Tbe great line-of-bsttie ship was moving on with slow and stately ; regress, gathering up her charges under her wing, but evidently not fully informed on what had happened in the convoy. The number of sbips was so great, and they were ecattered over such a vast amount of space, that this was no wonder. Half of them could not be seen from the other balf, for the inter- vening sails, and the people of the Armada could not see more than the ships in her immediate vicinity. Whether she had understood the sig- nal guns, fired from the Bombay, was still a moot _, and on it depended, as Paget knew, his safety and rescue. He followed the ee wae to the side, where the boat from the Wasp was still lying, witha respect 6 in it, and observed: “Why not take my gig, sir? She is here, by the other gangway, and my men are on board.” Geisinger looked at the Wasp, which was still at some distance off, and hesitated as he said: “T don’t think I ought to doit, sir. You are a valuable prisoner, and I cannot afford to lose you. I must signal the Wasp.” : He went to the side of the ship and fired off his pistol in the air, when there was an imme- diate change inv the position of the bbe, and the ship tacked and came down on the India- man, luffing up across her stern, within speak- ing distance, when Blakeley hailed: What is the matter, Mr. Geisinger?” “‘T have a prisoner, sir, the captain of the Armada; and be says bis name is Lord Augus- tus something or other. What shall I do with him?’ asked Max, with delightful democratic ye og Lord Augustus bimself could not help smile at the description of his title, and 1 to the reply that came over the water: * Ask bim what bis last name is.” “What is it, sir?’ asked the midshipman in an undertone to Paget. The captain answered, and the midshipman communicated the intelligence to his command- er, who immediately bailed back: “Send a boat with him at once, sir. Send the prisoners with him, such as would be dan- gerous to us.” Geisinger turned tu Paget. “You can order or ig now, sir,” A few minutes later Lord Augustus Paget was transferred bodily to the care of his foes, and found himself on the deck of the sloop-of- war, confronted by the handsome captain of the Wasp, who said to him, with a smile: “T will not insult you by saying I am glad to see you, my lord; for you might retort that you were not by any means glad to see me; but . I will say that it is a very lucky thing for me you bave been out visiting to-day.” Paget was too much mortified to answer in the good-tempered way that he would like to have done, but he managed to say: “‘T cannot complain, sir. It is my own fault, You will not profit much by it, however. You do not hope to escape the Armada, I suppose.”
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202 The Lost Corvette. , Blakeley looked over at the majestic ship, that was coming through the crowd of Indiamen, like a swan among the ducks, and answered: “TI actually do, sir, strange as it may seem. The Armada is a very fine ship, and has the re- paeericn of being unusually fast for a line of- ttle ship; but I will back the Wasp against her, at her best. You are too important a prize for me to let you go, and sol propose to make a cartel of the next prize I take, and send you in for exchange.” ‘* Why not set me at liberty on parole?” said the captain quickly. ‘‘It isa we mortifying position for me, sir, and I am willing to doa great deal to escape from it. If you will put me into my boat, and let me go to my own ship, I will give my word to take no steps against your Government, till I am exchanged.” Blakeley listened to him, and asked him: ‘*And what security have I that you will keep your parole? The temptation to break it is very great, and I should not be justified in letting you go, without grave reason.” Paget flushed scarlet. “T am not accustomed to have my word doubted, sir, and it is the word of a British offi- cer and a gentleman. Who are you, sir, that doubts it? If you were on shore, I should de- mand satisfaction for the doubt at once.” Blakeley faced him witha flush as angry as his own, as he retorted: ‘*T am a man who comes from as good a fam- ily as your own, Lord Augustus. The Pagets were never heard of before enry the Seventh, but the Blakes were kings when there was no ming in England!” he accent of his country came out the mo- ment he was angry, and the English captain + redder ;than before, as he said, scorn- y: ‘Aha, Isee! A renegade to the country that gave you birth. I see why you doubt my word, Well, do your worst, you Irish traitor!” It was in the spirit of those times when the British naval officer, however high in rank was very apt to bea bully and a blackguard when he let his true nature out, Lord Augustus Paget was, like the rest, as bigoted asa Spanish priest, and full, of preju- dices against Irishmen, He glared at the other as if he would like to haye a fair field with him, sword-in-hand, and Blakeley met him with the same spirit, saying: ‘You know that you are a prisoner, and so try to provoke me to do you an injustice that you may use (psc me some day. Well, I shall not ive you the chance that you are looking for. ou shall go free, without any parole, and I will take these two ships, and publish tbe fact ail over France that you were my prisoner and that I let you go.” Paget shook his fist in the face of his captor, as he retorted: “T take no favors from you, sir, and I won’t have them. I will go on parole, or else youcan take me and kill me here on this deck. lt is my opinion that you are a coward, after all.” The insult was open, and so gross that for a moment the officers of the Wasp bad a notion to step forward to avert a most unseemly strug- gle between the two men, who hated each other as badly as bad Lord John Manners and the captain when they had met before. ut they were mistaken if they thought that Blakeley was going to lose his temper under any provocation. The greater it was, the closer was the watch he kept on himself. a turned to the officer of the deck, and said: ‘See this gentleman over the side, I want no prisoners who are mine by accident, Lord Augustus, you are free to go back to your own sbip as soon as you wish,” en as the other, not knowing what to make of it all, hesitated, he added, in a tone only loud enough to be heard by him: **T shall be in L’Orient on the Fourth of July if you dare to come there. I will meet you, and ou can see if you dare to back what you have just said about me. Good-day, sir.” And Lord Augustus Paget went over the side of the Wasp, not knowing whether to be most angry at bis own stupidity in getting taken, or most humiliated at the way in which he had been released. CHAPTER XXV. CHECK AND COUNTERCHECK. Wuen the English captain went over the side, he went into bis own boat, which had been ut into the water on his departure from the mbay, with its crew in it, and had been ordered to wait on the Wasp. Now it lay, ex- posed to the fire of the American ship, so that nothing would have been easier than to have blown it out of the sea, resistance being impos- sible. The English captain saw this, and his first move was to get his boat out of the line of fire, and shelter it behind one of the [ndiamen in the neighborhood, which was quickly effected, when he ordered his men to pull their best to the Armada, in the midst of tbe fleet. The Bombay and the captured Seringapatam moved off at their best speed, and the captain of the Armada saw that they would be out of gunshot before he could get to bis ship, At : tow Rats ae : at 6 Hy oa otek, VN ’ o RGR aie #s fe The Armada was slow to extricate herself from the crowd of sails around her, and when Paget at last arrived near his ship, the two prizes, so cleverly snatched from his grasp, were off to the leeward of the whole fleet, and mak- ing the best of their way to the westward. ot much time was consumed in getting aboard the ship, by the mortified commander, and he found his first lieutenant, Mr. Harwood, who had got there before him, very much re- lieved, as he expressed himself, to find that his commander had not been captured by the enemy. The words of Mr. Harwood were very sweet: but it was a matter of remark, down in the gun-room, where the officers messed together, that Harwood bad been very cool and uncon- cerned when it was thought that the captain had been captured, and that he had been heard to say something to the effect that ‘‘ people who take risks must take the consequences.” Mr. Harwood himself had got back to the Armada, from the Seringapatam, before the arrival of the strange sail, and bad had what he thought very good luck in the operation. Being conscious that his own absence was without the leave of of his commander, he had kept his eyes open while he was on his visit, and had spied the strahge sail when she first hove in sight. He had had no grave suspicion of her, but bad seen the propriety of going back to his own ship, in case she should turn out tobeanenemy. The consequence was tbat he had boarded the Armada when the strange ship was not yet among the convoy, and had had the disgust of seeing the capture of the Seringapatam, from a distance so great that it was out of his power to rescue her. He had made the best of his way, with the ship, through the entangling India- men, but had been too late to avert the catas- trophe, and was trying to pet out, so as to chase the captor of the prizes, when he saw the gig of his captain coming to the ship as hard asit could rowed, The sight was by no means a welcome one to Harwood, who had been indulging visions of promotion from the absence of bis commander, and saw them rudely dashed from him by the return of Lord Augustus, whose first words as he arrived on the deck were: ‘*Harwood, why the deuce didn’t you come up sooner?” : ‘*Because the confounded Indiamen were in the way, my lord,” was the reply of the lieu- tenant, in a sullen tone. “I am glad to see that the enemy didn’t get your lordship, though. We thought you were gone for a certainty.” “‘T have no doubt of it,” was the dry gh ‘Tt would have given you a step, perhaps, Har- wood; but I am not gotten rid of so easily. Get all the sail on the ship you can, sir, and stand after that Yankee pirate.” So saying, he retired to bis cabin, too much mortified by his morning’s diversion to face the looks of his officers, conscious that the story of his capture and release by the Yankees would soon be all over the ship from the stories of his boat’s crew. He did not come on deck for half an hour, and when he did the ship had cleared the con- voy, and was stretching out, over,the open sea beyond, after three sails that were fleeing before her. The Indiamen, in a bunch, were sailing on, ready to repel an assault, if need be, for they were all armed with from ten to twenty guns and fright had made them get into some sort of a naval order of\battle. The strange sloop-of- war was astera of the two Indiamen that she had taken so pace and they were crowding all the sail they could carry to getaway. The swiftness of the Armada, all the more unusual that she was a line-of-battle ship, was such that she was overhauling the sternmost sbip fast, and the prospect of a speedy vengeance for the humiliation of the morning opened before the captain. When he saw this his face cleared, and he said to Harwood, more won than he had spoken when he came’on board: “The ship does well, Harwood; doesn’t she?” ‘Very well, my lord. She has need to,” was Harwood’s dry reply. ‘‘We need all the sail we can carry, to excuse us when we get home.” Captain Paget colored, but made no remark yond: “Alls well that ends well, Harwood, We shall take that fellow in for bis impudence.” ‘*T am not so sura of that, my lord,” said Har- wood. ‘*He is waiting for bis prizes, and sees that they will be taken from him, but I am not suré that we can take himself, for he sails well,” As the lieutenant spoke, the ship was within about a mile and a half of the Wasp, and the captain took a long look at the chase through the glass, “I think, Harwood, we are near enough to let bim have a shot,” he said. ‘‘ The forty-twos will reach him, I think.” “Shall I order a gun or two fired, sir?” ‘‘'¥Yes, Let the gunner pick out the best shot in the ship, and try three or four rounds, to find if we have the range.” Tke first-lieutenant went away to give the order, and the Armada continued to gain on the three sails that she was chasing, while the fleet 4 Pt. ix o¢ ote Be Cates cia i SS a - Era es were being left further and further ind. At last Harwood came on deck to report that the guns were aJl loaded, and that, if the cap- tain wished, he would order the ship’s course changed, so as to bring them to bear. It was only necessary to yaw slightly, for the bridle-ports of the Armada were arranged to use aS many guns as possible as chasers, and, before she had swept aside for the space of two minutes, the heavy reports of three guns came booming back to the quarter-deck, and the shots could be traced, skipping over the sea to- ward the sloop-of-war. which was still in the rear of her prizes, The lines of spray were near- ly together, and the guns were unusually well aimed, for the missiles went as straight for the stern of the Wasp as if they had been sent by the best of artillerists. : Then came a great dash of spray in the air, over the stern of the Wasp, and the captain of the Armada exclaimed: " s Hit, by Heavens! Good shot, whoever fired Then they all looked through the glass at the chase, to see what damage had been done b the shots, but, after a long examination, it seemed as if whatever had been done had not been visible. ‘*T don’t understand it,” muttered Paget. “T saw it hit, as plain as ever I saw anything, and she does not seem to have been hurt at a What can the reason be?” “Tt was a lucky sea, I think, sir. Did you not notice the spray as the shot reached her. The aim was good, but the elevation was at fault. I don’t believe one of them hit her.” As he spoke, the sloop-of-war stretched out from her yards tbe canvas that she bad bitber- to kept furled or flapping, to keep her pace. down to the capacity of the slower Indiamen, and began to pass them, with a speed that showed how she bad been playing with them hitherto. ‘There go bis heels,” observed the lieutenant to the commander of the Armada, as he watched: her. ‘‘She got something, or thought she might get it, next time. We shall get back the prizes, if she does not burn them,” Every artifice that is know to naval men was now used to increase the speed of the Armada, and enable her to come up with the chase, while they watched with interest the maneuvers of the Wasp. They saw her, from the deck of the line-of- battle ship, pass the Bombay first, and as she ed, a boat was dropped from the side of the ndiaman, and pulled to the Wasp. “That means that she gives up one of the prizes,” quoth Lord Augustus watched the proceeding with interest. His lordsbip felt great interest in this particu- lar ship because it contained the beiress that he hoped to make Lady Augustus at some not ve distant date, and so found a new house whic should equal the glories of the elder branch of the Pagets. If Miss Stokes was left to his rescue, she would be sure to say ‘“‘ yes” whenever he asked her— at least so he thought—and the other ship might go on for all he cared. Harwood, on the other hand, had been on the Seringapatam that day, carrying on a senti- mental flirtation with the other heiress, Minnie Moore. He had never been to India, and consequently had no idea of the prejudice existing there against Eurasians—as great as that in the West Indies against people of mixed negro blood. He only saw that she was very beautiful, and had heard that she bed a large fortune: tbere- fore, Harwood had made the most of his time, when he had achance away from the ship, which was not often. ; That day, when he left the Sak Sei shee he told Minnie Moore the reason that he wus Jeay- ing, and the suspicions that be entertained against the ship that had not then revealed her true character. Now; if he could rescue the young lady, he felt that he would have as good a title to her gratitude as the captain would bave to the gratitude of the whiter, but not half so beautiful, Miss Jenny Stokes. The Armada rushed on through the waters, and it soon became plain that she was coming up with the Bombay. The sloop-of-war was already going out of gunshot fast, and had the nioh of the line-of- battle ship fast as the latter was. The Sering- apatam wes a much faster ship than the Bom- bay, and was trying ber best to keep pace with the Wasp; but the latter had to haul cown her royals to keep pace with the Indiaman, though the bigger ship was covered with canvas from her trucks to ber decks, and had the stvu’neails out on both sides of ber tall masts, On went the Armada, and the Bombay was getting within gunshot when the man-of-war awed again, and fired a shot from one of her ong forty-twos so close to the Indiaman that she instantly hauled her wind and lay to for the Armada to come up, not anxious to secure a repetition of the dose that had greeted her. be great ‘‘ liner” came rushing by her, and as she passed the captain looked over the side and saw that the master of the Indiaman wason aget, as he
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i . for his pains.” y the Wasp, and the latter stood a good cha fe The Lost Corvette. PS 8 A OT 23 his own deck again and all safe, while the pres- ence of the ladies showed that no great harm had been done by the enemy. As he passed, Paget hailed: “Bombay ahoy! Is Captain Jones there?” “All right, my lord,” called the captain him- self. ‘*The Yankees have stripped the ship of all they could take away, but your shot fright- ened them.” F “Did you see if the sloop-of-war was hit?” asked Paget, as ho-tushed by. The answer was undistinguishable, but the energetic nod of the captain as be went by was enough to show that he meant “‘ yes.” Then the man-of-war went on after the chase, and soon was overhauling the Seringapatam but not the Wasp. Harwood rubbed his hands, as he thought of the advantage he would have, over all other suitors, when he came to Minnie Moore in the | character of a conquering hero, and had ajready ) begun to compose his speech, when he saw the Wasp suddenly tack and come short round, | back at the man-of-war, as if she was going to | engage her. That this was her intention, was apparent from the fact that she fired a gun to windward and came on defiantly, showing her flag, and ) trying all that she could to taunt ber enemy into following her. That the taunt was likely to succeed, was ap- parent to Harwood, as he looked at bis captain, who seemed to have been strangely put out that day, by the humiliation to which he had been subjected. As soon as he saw the Wasp put out her flag, and defy him, he rapped out to Harwood: “The insolent scoundrel! Give him a broad- side, Harwood! Ill blow him out of the water, “ We are out of range, sir, I am afraid,” said Harwood, cautiously; ‘and, if we try to get into it, we shall be very apt to lose the other ship that we must recapture, if we are sharp enough,” : : “Beat to quarters anyway, and give him one broadside,” was the obstinate answer; and the Armada’s course was changed from the chase of the Seringapatam, to follow the Wasp, which was at the extreme limit of the carrying power of the guns of the liner. The plow: mame in the mean time, had one off on adiverging path from that taken nee of saving her bmw if the English ship did not give over the chase of the sloop-of-war. By the time the men were at quarters, and the guns of the lower loaded, the Indiaman, after which they had been going, was nearly a mile further than she had been, when the Wasp started to draw the Armada from the chase. When the English ship fired her broadside at last, all could see, from the splashes made by the shot, that it bad been fired out of range, and the Wasp not bit at all. When this became apparent to Paget, his —— and obstiuacy yielded to the inevitable, and he ordered the course of the ship laid once more toward the Seringapatam, which, in the meanwhile, had gained a distance that enabled her to have a hope of ultimate escape. The man-of-war, however, kept on the chase, with a steadiness that rapidly closed the gap between her and the Seringapatam, till the fat. ter ship was within Jess than a mile, when a single gun from the bow-chaser of the Armada ended the affair. This first shot hit the India- man in the stern, and she hove to, and dropped her flag, with a suddenness that showed how scared her prize-master was at the attack. As this happened, a boat was seen to drop from her side and eg away, straight in the wind’s eye, toward the sloop-of-war, which had kept banging round the chase, just out of gun- shot. The Armada kept on her course for the Indiaman, suspecting a trick, and, when she arrived alongside the Seringapatam, the first hail that was heard from the ship was the cry of distress: ** Armada ahoy! Your shot struck us_be- tween wind and water and the ship is leaking heavily.” The captain of the Armada gave a hasty order to send a crew on board the recaptured prize aud help stop the Jeak and then turned his attention to the Wasp, which was making after the Bombay, now a mile or more astern, and in danger from the enemy again. The boldness of the American commander ap- ared in the way in which he bung to the chances that he still had, to carry off one of the Indiamen. The Armada had all she could do to et up to the Bombay to prevent her from be- ase taken a second time, and when the man-of- war at last got back to the Seringapatam, and gathered her recovered charges under her wing, the san was setting, and the fleet of the India- men were far awey to windward, the Wasp standing after them, as if she still hoped to get ono of them, before their guardian could get back. The Bomba ee ee and Seringapatam were left be- hind, with orders to follow the Armada, as fast they could, and the ship-of-war began to fire po and hoist signals, to recall the India- As the darkness closed in, they obeyed the al, and came down all together, in a line, with such a formidable display of force as might well have daunted a less desperate captain than the commander of the Wasp, The last sight of that ship, gained as the night closed in, she was passing along the front of the line of Indiamen, as if looking for a chance to get at one of them, away from the rest, Then the watches were set for the night, and the captain of the Armada passed the time till midnight in pacing the deck and signaling, with guns and lanterns, to the (ndiamen which were all the time coming nearer an nearer. As the ship’s bells struck midnight, the fleet was at last reunited, and the Armada kept on her course in peace. She had saved her con- voy. peers CHAPTER XXVI. THE CHALLENGE. Bur for all that the Armada had saved her convoy, as far as she knew, when the mornin dawned, one of the Indiamen was missing, an no one could tell where she bad gone, It was not the Bombay or the Seringapatam, but an- other, that no one had thought of as being in danger, she being one of the fastest ships in the fleet, and having forged ahead of the whole of the Indiamen unperceived. How she bad been captured was a mystery to all, for no guns had heen heard in the night, and yet, when the morning came, she was gone. Her name was the Rajah, and she was loaded with a very valuable cargo, so that it became a matter of salvage to get her back, and the cap- tain of tae Armada was sorely puzzled what to do. His ship was all alone, and he sorely wanted, that day, a light frigate or a brig-of-war, that might be employed as a scout, to hunt for the enemy. As he had none of these, be was compelled to stomach his loss, and lay it, in his report of the voyage, to the rashness of the captain of the Rajah, in going too far from the protection of the convoying ship. But the experience of the day before had not cured him of his pas- sion of visiting the Indiamen, and he went, the very morning after the trouble on board the Bombay, taking the precaution to keep his own ship near the Indiaman,'so as to avoid the un- leasant necessity be had been under the day fore, of surrendering to a despisei foe, without a chance of resistance, He went to see Miss Stokes, and she and the other ladies were loud in their praises and thanks “‘ for the gallant way in which he had rescued them from tbe power of the terrible Yankee pirates,” though they could not help all sorts of sly jokes about the way in which be had been trapped. Their curiosity was also roused as to how be had made his escaps, when every one bad expected him to be carried off by the Yankee ship, as a prisoner. The captain evaded their curiosity on this point, for he did not like to acknowledge that he had been re- leased on condition that he should meet the Yankee at L’Orient, and fight a duel with bim, which was the real state of the case. He’ gave them a story of how he had pulled away from the ship in his gig, amid a shower of shot, and had run the gantlet of the Wasp’s fire, which they could not contradict, for there had been so much firing and confusion at the time that no one could tell what had happened in any ether ex but their own. hen the fleet settled down to the routine the home voyage, and the captain of the Armada bad dinner on board the Bombay, and was thinking of returning to bis own ship in the afternoon, When he was warned, by the sound of a gun from the Armada, and the rapid ap- proach of that ship, that something was happen- ing that required his attention again. The Indiamen felt the excitement that was indicated by the shot, and showed symptoms of coufusion as they huddled together. The sounds of hurried orders from the ceptains echoed through the fleet, and in the midst of it all, the Armada came rushing down to the Bombay, to get back her captain, who had his boat at the side in very short order. When he got aboard, he found the cause of the gun to have been the reappearance of the strange sloop-of-war, in the western horizon, alone, and coming straight toward the convoy. The whole fleet was gathered into the closest possible order, and the Armada took her posi- tion to windward of the convoy, and placed so as to intercept the strange ship, should she try to repeat her game of the day before, Paget was rather puzzled at the coming of the Wasp again, after the narrow escape she had had the day before, and watched her with interest, as she came sailing along to witbin about three miles, when she bung out the American flag, and began to signal the “ liner.” The signal midshipman was called up, and the signal-book consulted to find out what the stranger wanted. To the surprise of every one, the signals turned out to be English, and intelligible. The first that was hoisted was: “‘ T want to speak to you.” ‘€ Ask the impudent scamp what he wants?’ the captain said. The signal was hoisted, and the reply came: as 7 took the Rajah yesterday. I want to make an exchange.” Paget was puzzled. “To exchange what? We have nothing of his that I know of.” Then he added: “Tell him that, if he wants to speak to me, he can come alongside, and I wil) give him his present distance before he shall be fired on. We may as well see what he wants. There’s no telling where the impudenee of these Yankees will stop.” The signal was hoisted, and the answer came back: ** Send a boat to me, and J] will guarantee ét safe conduct.” “The gentleman is not so rash as he seemed at first,” remarked Harwood, dryly. ‘‘ He does not intend to put himself into our power, and E don’t blame him, for I should fire into him the moment he got within range if the choice wes mine. Will you send a boat, sir?” Paget nodded. He was puzzled what the enemy could possibly want of him in the present position of affairs, and he wanted to find out what it was. “Take the jolly boat, and go,” he said to Harwood. ‘1 will give the man credit that he is not apt to fire on a flag of truce. Bring me back word what he wants.” ee Harwood did not like the office much; but there was no help when the captain gave the order, and he took the boat as ordered, and went over the swells to the Wasp, which had hove to, waiting for the boat. As the English lieutenant approached the sloop-of-war, he was struck by tbe emeey of” her appearance and the graceful Jines of ber hull, as she rode to the swells. The Armada was a handsome ship; but the Wasp, while not so large, was finer in every respect, and attract- ed his unqualified admiration as a sailor. When he arrived he was received at the gangway by a very gentlemanly young officer, who told him to “come to the qguarter-deck, and be introduced to the captain.” Harwood had hitherto had an idea that the Yankees were a set of savages, who lived in the backwoods and had no manners. Instead of that, he was received by people that he could see to be just as well brought up as himself, and whose way of talking, while it was marked by a few provuncia- tions that grated on his English ears, was yet clean and perfectly free from the intonations of vulgarity, that are so unmistakable. The young officer introduced bimself as Mr. Marion of the U. 8. Navy, and Harwood said, in a sort of inquiring way: ** Any relation to that General Marion, of whom we used to hear?” Young Marion smiled. ‘*My grand-uncle, sir.” Then Harwood thought to himself that he: might have made a mistake in despising the Yankees. He was taken to the quarter-deck, and there introduced to a tall gentleman as “‘ Captain Blakeley.” The captain bowed to him very politely, and asked him into the cabin, where he set wine and biscuits before his guest, and treated bim in a fashion of hospitality that made Harwood feel, more than ever, that be had underrated the Yankees, before he opened the business that had brought bim there. ‘Well, captain, I suppose that we had better get to our work. You have asked for an inter- view. May I ask with what motive?” _ Blakeley smiled as he said: “T supposed that you knew all about it, sir. Is it possible your captain bas not told ou!” “Told me ‘of what?’ asked the Englishman, bewildered. ‘Of the little difficulty that we had, yester- day. You see, if 1 had kept the advantage tbat your captain’s carelessness had given me, I might have got out of the fleet with him as a prisoner, and you would never have caught 7” e, “Bnt Dunderstood that the captain had es- caped,” interposed Harwood. Blakeley shook his head. “By no means. On the contrary he was taken on the Bombay, and brought to my ship asa prisoner. While here, he permitted him- self to utter some words that I regarded as personally offensive, and I let him go on the condition that he would meet me at. L’Orient, which is now neutra)] territory, where we should be able to settle the difference like gen- tlemen.” Harwood stared at him in surprise, as he ejaculated: “ And did you signal us for that, sir?” “Why, certainly. I thought that your cap- tain would naturally like to know whether I was of the same mind still. I am willing to meet him at any place that he may agree to, as the most convenient.” Harwood rose at once, saying:
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YO tory ; a a % 24 The Lost Corvette. “Then I must‘go back to my ship, sir. I have no instructions to arrange for anything of the sort. We are at war, and private duels are not recognized. I will tell the captain what you ask, sir. ‘*That is all that I desire,” said Blakeley, atifiy. ‘‘I am, as you are doubtless aware, from my accent, a foe to England beyond the mere chances of this war, and anxious to fight all the Englishmen I can. If your captain does not consent to appoint a time and place for the interview I request, I shall take care that all Europe knows what sort of a man he is, Good- bas ¢ sir,” nd he bowed Harwood out of the cabin, ina mly polite way that showed how he was eeping down the naturally fierce temper he owned. Harwood returned to the Armada, rather in- clined to set down the captain of the Wasp as a maniac on the subject of dueling; but, in those days, to refuse to fight a duel was hardly possi- ble and the lieutenant felt that his captain was ag the man to take the challenge he was bear ng him in earnest, and to accept it forthwith. e wind was light that day, and the boat soon reached the ship, while the American lay, with her maintopsail to the mast, out of gun- shot of the Armada, as if waiting for the an- swer, Harwood got on board and went to the cap- tain’s cabin with his message, at which he ex- pected to be greeted with a burst of anger. He was surprised to hear the captain say: ‘Welle of course, there is no alternative, Harwood, [shall have to fight the fellow, But Iam not gving to wait for L’Orient either. We are not far from Gibraltar, and Spain is a neu- tral ground. I can meet him there if he wants. He can go into Cadiz, and the convoy can shel- ter at Gibraltar.” Harwood looked aghast as he asked: ** But what will the admiral say to that, sir?” cose Augustus shrugged his shoulders, as he replied: ** Harwood, the service is going to the devil, and I am going out of it, “I don’t care a curse what the admiral thinks of it. If this man wants me to fight him, I am not going to peril my position at home, for the sake of the confounded service. Signal him to send me a boat and I will send him an answer.” The captain wrote while the lieutenant was on deck, signaling, and before half an hour had assed a boat from the Wasp was bearing to lakeley Paget’s proposition to meet him at Cadiz. The boat had not been at the Wasp five minutes more, ere the signal was hoisted: “ Conditions accepted.” CHAPTER XXVII. THE IRISH ROSE, In the cabin of the Wasp, at the time that the English lieatenant was bolding his conversation with the captain, a listener, unsuspected by Harwood, was in hearing of the whole talk, and, as soon as Blakeley had dismissed the Bri- ton, this listener came out; in the shape of a oung lady, and addressed Blakeley, with some tterness: ‘* Are you not a foolish man, to throw away all the successes that you have gained, by con- senting to fight this Englishman among his friends? You should bave kept him while you had him, Now he will triumph over us again.” Blakeley turned to his sister to say: ** Rose, you have seen how I took the Rein- deér, and how the enemy of our house was met, and forced to own that the Irish-American could outfight bim, at every game he tried. This P. another of the same sort. He has made his boasts that the Yankees are oy good to fight with the chances on tbeir side, and that, in the close strife that shows what men are made of, the Englishman is still master of the world, Iam going to show him that the Yankee can meet him anywhere and at any time, and beat him. Don’t be alarmed about me, child, I am able to take care of the Blakes against any eae that ever stepped. We shall sail for Cadiz at once,” The girl looked at him in a melancholy way, as she said: “TI don’t know what it is that gives me this feeling, John; but it seems to me this is the last time we shall ever be together, and that this voyage is destined to end in misfortune.” ‘And why should you think that?’ he asked, with some vexation. “Ihave not done badly “T should say not. I have been at sea but a week. since I came back from England, and al- ready I bave destroyed a brig-of-war of equal force to my own ship, and have taken a rich ‘prize from ander the nose of this proud captain, and his seventy-four. My mission in these seas is to fizht, and to put the name of Blake where it will be coupled with Paul Jones and the great Blake, and no longer with the death of our father, at the bands of a tyrant govern- ment. You have suffered enough from that, Eines, and now the time is coming when you shall share in the triumph that awaits us, when we go home—” ‘*Home!l” interrupted Rose, with the same melancholy’ accent that had marked her pre- vious speech. ‘‘ Ab, John, we have no home, and no country now. Have you forgotten that?” Blakeley rose and laid his hand on his sister’s shoulder. ‘You are wrong, child. We have the great- est country on tae face of the earth. We be- long to that land where the poor and oppressed of all the earth are welcome, and where all mankind can meet on common ground, as equals, You do not know America yet, Rose, but you shall. You will be happy there,” Rose shook her head. **T hope so; but I am afraid. Oh, Jobn, why was [ not taken when I was a child as you were to that land you love so well and which I have never seen in all my life? You do not know women, if you think they are ready to cast aside the memories of childhood in a mo- ment and accept new ties, I sometimes think that we, who have lost all in the old world, are not fit to take up the struggle of life in the new one. It seems so hard tu go there; to give up all that one has been taught to love and cherish; to take new ideas; to learn to hate the things one has loved, and to love the things one has hated. I have wondered whether it would not be better for us both to die, and end the strife.” The captain of the Wasp looked at his sister with surprise, as she spoke. She was very much moved, and he saw that it was really hard for her to keep back the tears, He gathered her in his arms, to ask softly: “ Rose, what is the matter? Tell me, and I promise that if I can do anything to help you, I will do it. There is something under all this that you have not told me yet. Rose looked at bim timidly, as she said; ‘* You wiil think ill of me, if 1 tell you.” ‘*T promise you, no. I bave too much love for you, not to feel for your position. It is even more cruel than my own, child, and God knows that is needless. Tell me what is the matter?’ Thus encouraged, Rose crept close to her brother and whispered: ‘John, dear, I knew the gentleman who was in the cabin to-day.” Blakeley looked at her sharply, to ask: ‘Where? when? You never told me.” **T never had a chance till to-day. I have met him at uncle’s house, when he was only a midshipman, and -I a child, but we have been close friends and—” Here the girl hesitated, and her color rose so bigh that the captain asked, in a tone that he could not make other than stern: “And do you mean to say that reg have been taught to love him among the other things that you spoke of?” Rose was silent; but the color on her cheek, and the way she avoided her brother’s glance, was enough. He seemed to be very much affected by the discovery, for he turned away from her for a moment, as if he could not bear to look on ber, and paced the cabin several times before he came back, to say: ** How long has this being going on, Rose?” ‘*T can hardly say,” she answered. “ As long as I was a child, I had no thought of marriage; but as I grew up and he came home at the end of every voyage, I Jearned to thiak of him, and he of me. e had an understanding when we last met that—” “That what, Rose!” ‘That we should be married when he was a captain. Uncle consented, and it was under- stood that the influence of the house should be thrown in his favor,” : ** And how is it that I never heard of this till now? Bampton gave me no hint that it was the case,” “ Are you sure that he said nothing to you, that you did not understand?” asked Bese, tim- idly. ‘‘I told him not to deceive you.” Blakeley thought a little, and then reflected that the smuggler had cares several broad hints, that might havé told him that the feel- ings of his sister were not all that he might have wished as regarded batred to England, He began to remember that Bampton said to him: * She has seen nothing but good of England, and you will seem to her unnatu when you wage, war with her. Did you never think of t In his bitterness he had then said: “ There is ply one thing left, to fill the cup —that she should marry an Englishman, and learn to hate her own se poh 8 Now the cup was filled. The sister he had come across the Atlantic, at the risk of his life to see and reclaim, bad told him that she loved an English officer. That she hated bis adopted couctry was the natural sequence, and it was with the bitterness of a disappointed man that he said: “Be it so, child. You shall be happy with your lover, and [ can bear my own burden te Does he know that you are The Blake’s child “No. He was always told that my name was Rose Lynch, and be thought so. My uncle seemed to be very anxious that he should.” Be i es pa deat at Rha de INS * es ae : pl “ Ay, ay," said the exile bitterly. “‘ Bampton was wise in his generation, and he knew that if you were known to this Englisbman as the child of what he calls a traitor, he would scorn you. Where is your pride gone, Rose? You were proud enough when the Manners a at you. Bampton told me how you behaved. You made no opposition to going from pa land, and when you came aboard this ship you seemed to be pleased. What has changed you now?” Rose bung her head as she said: **I don’t know, unless it is that I had not seen him then.” Then she Loss’ threw her arms around her brother’s neck, and began to plead to him in broken accents: ‘* Jobn, dear’, I was not made for a heroine, I cannot help it, and I ought never have come with you, ou gave me the choice when you were in London, and I was so much struck by your loneliness: that I could not let you go away without me. You were all alone, and 1 was our own sister and the only relative you had nthe world, But I have been thinking a good deal since I have been here, and I can hardl bear the constant fighting that goes on. . It breaking me down, and I shall disgrace you some day.” Blakeley put away the clinging arms gently, to say: ‘*T have spoken, child. You shall have your lover, and I can go, as I have gone all my life, ulone. You shall not have to plead to me again.” So saying, he went on deck and ordered the head of the ship laid to the eastward, where the fleet of Indiamen was slowly moving over the fage of the sea, guarded by the majestic Ar, mada, The whole of the ships were then near the latitude of the Madeira Islands, and the light aud baffling winds that prevailed at that time of year in that vicinity, made it difficult to on, whatever might be the wishes of the captains. he Wasp, with her light canvas set, was to windward, and stretching away to the east, she passed the whole fleet, almost within gua- shot. The Armada, as if to guard her charges, al- tered her course and came sweeping out to drive off the expected assault; but the Yankee corvette passed along on the same course, and went out of sight in the east as if she was standing straight for the Straits of Gibraltar— the very goal to which the Indiamen were hold- ing their way. As she sailed faster than the fleet, nearly two to one (the Armada being obliged to keep under her topsails alone to accommodate her pace to that of the crawlers that she had to guard), it was not very long before the Wasp was out of sight, and the shades of night fell on the fleet as it they were chasing her into the very port of be oa where she dared not go at that period of time. Two days after, the Armada arrived in Gib- raltar, and the Indiamen anchored in peace. CHAPTER XXVIII, A BRIEF DUEL, Tue harbor of Cadiz in the year 1814 held a mg position with regard to Americans, he United States was at peace with Spain, and therefore the port ought to bave been count- ed on as neutral; but, as a matter of fact, Spain at that time, having been in close alliance with the pom yr through all the Peninsular War, was not disposed to give the Americans any privileges; and only allowed them, in the most grudging way, the favor of buying provisions andtaking water, As for selling prizes, the ex- periment only been tried once, in the ear) rt of the war, and had never been repeated, or no one had been found to bid; and the Americans had to run the prize out of the har- bor at night, to prevent the English frigates from taking her away, regardless of the ordi- nary obligations of neutral ports. The instance of the Essex, fired into and captured before the port of Valparaiso, thenin the hands of Spain was too recent to be forgotten; and it was no dreamed that any Yankee ship would be bold enough to come into a Spanish port again, es- pecially in Europe. d Therefore it was a surprise and almost a con- sternation that fell on the companies of the British brigs, Avon and Castilian, in that bar- bor, a few days after the taking of the Rajah from the convoy of the Armada, to see a man- of-war with the American ensign at her peak coming into the harbor in broad daylight, with that captured sbip close behind her, and come to anchor before the custom-house, as if she feared nothing. The very boldness of the act was the salva- tion of the Wasp. She came in with her men at quarters, and ranged up between the two English brigs, as they lay, head and stern on a line, so as to be able to rake either, if there was apy sign of bostility. The English captains were not on board at the time; for, the conflict between the European wers being over, the discipline of war had re- xed and the settled condition of peace had ; pe Sse — ane PR ASS ee Le ‘leat adie SLEOOMOTT OES oF Adult
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ri ¥ r Y # 2 vv ~ © The Lost Corvette. 25 not yet commenced; so that everything was at ‘sixes and sevens.”” Captain Sheard, of the Avon, was ashore at the house of a Spanish friend, whose pretty daughter he was courting industriously ; Captain Bloxom, of the Castilian, was in a tavern with some friends, paints to the health of the Duke of Wellington; an the crews of both ships were scattered all over the city, as drunk as only sailors can get, when they have a liberty day ashore, after a long and tedious cruise. But there was no doubt of the nationality of the strange ship. : Her flag wes hoisted as proudly as if she wished it to be known that she had come to stay, and her people looked over at the few men and officers that were left on board the two brigs, and called out all sorts of questions in the free-and-easy style that prevails when both par- ties to a war speak the same tongue. The Englishmen, on their part, gave back as much slang as they got, and threatened the intruders that ‘“‘ they would never get out of the harbor witb the ship,” to which one of the Yan- kee sailors replied: ‘“* Yes we will, and take your darned old brigs with us, too.” Then came a stern order from the quarter- deck of the American ship to “‘ stop that sky- larking,” and thereafter the intercourse be- tween the vessels was conducted on the sternly civil footing that is usual when two parties to a fight have to meet on neutral goound for a short time, and are careful to treat each other with the utmost civility. The officers and men of the W went ashore, after the arrival of the ship, a few ata time, and were seen all over the city, where they met the British with a mixture of polite- ness and sarcasm that produced more than one quarrel, and would bave resulted in serious riots near the quay, had not the Spanish police come down on the combatants and threatened to put them all in the stocks, if the matter was not pi hat had brought the Yankee into port was a mystery that few in the English vessels were competent to solve. They apprehended danger from the bold way in which the Wasp had come to anchor; but what the scheme was they could not tell. Both the English captains got to their vessels as soon as they could, and made prepar- ations to get their men on board, but it was surprising how little the men seemed to care for their officers. Jack ashore, with a day’s liber- ty, isa very different man from Jack at sea, with all the restraints of discipline about bim, and the fear of the boatswain’s mate at his back. The middies of the Avon were run to death all over the town, and could not get a man, and the captain did not dare to send a press-gang, for fear the press-gang migbt get drunk too and go off with therest. Both captains had to resign themselves to the inevitable, and re- solve to get the men in the morning, when they 08 me go to sea and wait for the Yankee out- side, The scheme was a Serer one, but it had one weak point, It implied that the Yankee would wait for them, and fight them at their own time and place. The day passed, and, in the after- noon, the gig of the American captain was seen to leave the side of the Wasp and pull to shore, where the captain stepped on the quay in full uniform, and went to pay bis respects to the Governor of the city. e went witb a party of officers, and left a boat with an armed crew, at the steps. gRiyy When he came back from his visit to the Gov- ernor, the news spread all over the city that the “ Capitan Yanquio” had come to Cadiz to fight a duel, and that the captain of the port had given permission, and wus going to witness the affair, which was to come off at sunset, be- fore the citadel. It also transpired that the other party to the duel was an English officer who had come on by Iand from Gibraltar, and was at the Posada de Espana, kept by the only Freneb cook who had remained in Spain, since the expulsion of the invaders by the Jngleses. The story was that a party had been made up to come down from Gibraltar, and that the fight was expected to be a very fine sight. The Spaniards were at that time, as at resent, fonder of bloodshed than any people in Europe, and the idea of dueling excited no borror in their minds. It was the rule, asit was in Ire- land, and it was by no means uncommon to have spectators in crowds around the scene of a duel, if the greatest precautions were not taken to secure secrecy. In the present case, no such precautions had been taken, and the conse- quence was that the whole population of the city, that could get out, was on hand, at the hour named for the meeting, to see the fight be- tween the two “Gringos.” Public sentiment seemed to be quite apathetic about the success of either combatant, on the principle that they were both heretics anyway, and that the death of bath would not be any calamity. o en the news spread, a little ioe that the Yanqui” was not a heretic at all, but an ‘‘Ir- landese,” and a good Catholic to boot, the senti- ge ogra and ~ popular feeling was, that w 6 proper thing to pray for the success of the Yanqui. ear iad Promptly at the hour appointed, two parties of gentlemen made their appearance, and walked into the citadel, to the great disappointment of the crowd, who had fancied they were going to have a free show of the duel. The presence, very soon after, of the Governor of the city, with the captain-general and a large and bril- f‘liantly uniformed staff, explained the affair, and the people went away, cursing their luck and the Governor, He wanted all the fun to himself, they thought, and in this they were not so far wrong. The Governor teougbt it incompatible with his dignity to preside over anything so democratic asa public duel. It was enough that he had to do it at the bull-fights. Inside the citadel was a large court, and here the Governor paused, and in the most solemn and important manner, introduced the different parties to this strange affair to each other, and ended a stately address with the advice: ‘*Now, senores, it is the duty of a brave cava- lier to fight at all times, and especially for bis honor. The English cavalier has been hurt in his honor by the American cavalier, and the American has taken umbrage at words that have passed, It is your duty, cavaliers, to fight till the stain that has fallen on the honor of both shall be wasbed out with the blue and hovorable blood that is- precious to the king. You will strip and take your arms,” The two combatants were very nearly match- ed, both handsome men, as they took off their outer garments and showed themselves stripped to the waist, ready to begin. The weapons were swords, for the Governor would hear of nothing else, and the swords were of the Span- ish make, nearly five feet long. Each principal was attended by several sec- onds, olticers of his own ship, and they saluted each other courteously as they met, before cross- ing swords. hhen the fight began, and ended in so short a space of time that the Spanish officers, who were looking on, involuntarily drew in a long breath of surprise and disappointment. Only asingle pass was exchanged, and then the English officer was run through the body, with a neatness and dispatch that had never been seen in Cadiz before. The Yankee had sprung forward at the very moment of crossing swords; struck up the blade of his opponent, and caught his wrist at the same time, passin his sword through Paget’s breast with a dul thud that was heard all over the court. Then he withdrew the reeking blade and stepped back, while the Englishman, with a hollow groan, fell on the pavement, and in a moment was surrounded by his friends and the surgeon, while the American, with a formal bow to the Governor, said: “You will bear me witness that he brought this on himself, sir.” The Governor bowed, and the American turned to go with his friends, when the first lieutenant of the English Armada, who had come with Paget, stepped forward and inter- cepted him, with the remark: ‘Sir, you have slain my captain in a cowardly and unfair manner, and | pronounce you a mur- derer, and demand satisfaction.” With the word, before Blakeley could imagine. what he was going to do, he struck the Ameri- can a blow on the st. Such a proceeding, in those days, when duel- ing was common, and the old practice of sec- onds fighting for their cincipels was not yet obsolete, excited no rebuke, though the Spanish officers shrugged théir shoulders at the rashness of cep cae a man who had already displayed such skill in fence, Blakeley turned to the swords again and signed to his opponent to take one, asking at the same time: ‘‘What is your name, before we fight, sir? I don’t like to kill a man till I know who he is,” He spoke in a rather jocular tone, as if the killing of one man and the meeting with a re in two minutes were nothing but a est. ‘My name is Paul Harwood,” was the reply; “‘and you shall see that 1 am up to all your foul tricks.” To the surprise of the whole court Blakeley threw down the sword that he had picked up, and said decidedly: “Tl refuse to fight, then, except in my own way and at my owntime. Iwill fight you on tie seas, Mr. Harwood, and nowhere else.” Then, as Harwood, not knowing what to make of this sudden declination of hostilities, hesi- tated, he added: “Tf you will visit me on board the Wasp, this evening, I will tell you why, sir.” “The why is easily known,” was the scornful ‘You are afraid and want to get out of Blakeley flushed slightly as he answered: ‘You shall see if that is true to-night, sir. If ba are afraid to come, say so and we shali now who is the coward. Good-evening,” Then he turned away, and, for some reason or other, Harwood did not follow him. The American officers gathered round their com- mander, as if they feared the repetition of the suddenly-given blow that had caused the trou- . ble, but the English did not ayer OM to repeat it and the Americans departed without further molestation. That evening, after the sun had set an hour or more, the captain of the Wasp was informed that the person to whom he had promised an interview was in a boat, waiting by the gang- way. CHAPTER XXTIX. A RECREANT LOVER. BLAKELEY went out to the deck, and saw the outline of a boat below the gangway of the Wasp, while there were lights at the sterm windows of the Avon and Castilian, and their ports were open. His own men were not in their hammocks that night; for, in the ticklish position in which the Wasp found herself, it would never have done tu relax in the slightest the Me cep that was their only chance of safety from the superiority of force to which they bad been exposed ever since they had come into the harbor. Only the fact that the crews of the brigs were on shore, drunk, had prevented an assault long before, in one way or the other. Therefore the men of the Wesp were all lying down, wrapped in’ their watch-coats, at quar- ters, and the guns were loaded and trained, to rake both the English brigs at once, if there sbould be visible any symptom of treachery. The boat alongside, as far as could be seen in the darkness, was a large one, and full of armed men, but there were too many on the decks of the American ship to cause any apprehension roi that score, as long as the brigs did not open The captain of the American ship came to the gangway, and hailed the boat: ‘* What do you want?” The voice of the English lieutenant answered: “*T have come, as you requested. How shall I know that you do not mean treachery?” ““The fate of your captain should have told you that when I soy a thing I mean it,” said Blakeley. ‘‘He came on board my ship, and I let him go, on condition that he met me, as be did to-day. If you come, you will be treated as = was, asa gentleman. Will you come or not Harwood called back: “Tf any treachery is contemplated, it will be the worse for you. The brigs are ready to open e Blakeley laughed as he replied: “T know that, and that is why I cannot see why you do not come eat once. You run no risk, to what Ido, For the last time, will you come or not?” ““T will come,” was the answer, as if the Englishman was ashamed of further hesitation, and then be ascended the side of the ship by the pgway ladder, and stood on the decks by lakeley, who said to him, with grave polite- ness: “‘ Be pleased to step into the cabin. I bave a to soy to you that no one else must. ear, Surprised at this exordium, Harwood fol- lowed him into the cabin of the Wasp, which he found empty of people. The captain mo- tioned him to a chair, and opened the conversa-- tion with the words: ““Mr. Harwood, you are an Englishman: I am an Irishman, and the son of a rebel who: was executed in ‘Ninety-eight. Will you an- swer me a few questions?” ‘Why, certainly,” said Harweod. “Do you know a young lady by the name of Rose Lynch?” wes the question, to which Har- wood, with a start that looked as if he was im-: measurably surprised, answered: “What is that to you, sir? I did not come here to be interregated on my private affairs?” “You promised to answer a few questions, sir,” was thedeprecatingreply. ‘I havea rea- son for asking.” Harwood seemed to be strangely uneasy at the pers but he said, in a stiff sort of way: “Well, sir, suppose I do, what of it?’ “T asked you whether you did,” said the American, quietly. ‘‘Do you, or do you not?” ‘I do,” said the Englishman, in the same stiff way, watching the other as if be suspected something. “So far so good. I am about to ask you an- other question. Is there anything between you and that young lady in the nature of an en- gagement, and do you know what is her rea} name?’ Now Harwood rose, and seemed to be angry, for he rapped out: 7 ‘Sir, you are proceeding to a line of ques- tioning that I did not expect when I came here. I came to arrange with you for a duel, and not to listen to queries about things in which you, as 2 stranger, have no concern,” Blakeley allowed him to proceed till he had finished, when be answered him steadily: **- You are making a grave mistake. “I have a right to ask you these questions, for I am the brovber of the lady.” j Had a sbell fallen in the cabin, the lisaten- ant could not have been more astonished, as he stammered: ‘* You, the brother of Rose! It is impossible!”
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26 ‘‘ Nevertheless,’ it is the fact, sir. To the int. Whatare your intentions with re . that young lady? I beard on board the ingapatam, which I took but had ade Meda the other day, that you had been constant in visiting alady on that ship, with an ostensible view tomarriage. Do you intend to repudiate the promise given to one lady, or are you false to both?” Now indeed Harwood was completely stag- gered. His face was quite pale, as he said: “T don’t understand you, sir. You say you are the brother of Rose ‘Lynch, Is your name Lynch?’ “No, sir; my name is Blakeley. It was Blake, but in America it has been a tered; and I bave the honor again to ask you what are your intentions toward the lady I mentioned?” Harwood hesitated, and there is no knowing what he might have gaid, when one of the state- room doors opened, and a young lady came out and advanced toward them, her face flushed with some feeling that made her eyes glitter like stars, as she said: “Tt is enough, brother, This conversation need be carried no further. This gentleman is not bound to say anything against his will.” Harwood stared at her as she came in, and 94 face grew as pale as death as he recognized e Rose!” he ejaculated. Heaven, how came you here? I kuow—” “That is quite true, sir,” she retorted, look- in him in the eye in the same scornful way. have heard all, and have heard you hesitate to acknowledge the truth. You can leave this enh soon as you wish. The girl that you ave deceived is not so poor that she has need to beg for the kee coping of faith. Harwood looked at her in admiration, In the name of did not Ha had been a general lover, and had almost for- gotten the girl who had been his sentiment for a time in London, but whose image had faded away in the excitement and change of a sailor’s life. He bad been thinking of running away with Minnie Moore when he got home, for the girl was evidently taken with his handsome ace and figure; but now that he was con- fronted by the girl he had once loved, he felt for the moment that he would like to give up all for love, could he have afforded it. He hesitated, and at last said: “ Rose, we were children together, and we fancied that we were in love. But you know one thing—that it was all conditioned on the fact that I got my commission as captain, I am a poor man, and cannot afford to get mar- ried for many a year yet—” She had listened quietly, but now her bro- ther interposed in a way that showed him to be the coolest person in the cabin. “That need be no obstacle, sir. If you are ready to keep your promise to the lady, the money shall be forthcomi She is the heir- ess of the estate of Castle Blake in Ireland, and the Government will allow her to take posses- sion thereof, she not having been included in the attainder passed against her father and myself. You will be a landed proprietor, if ‘you care for that.” Harwood hesitated, but the natural sense of honesty in bim triumphed over the spirit of de- ceit, and he said sera: «T must tell the tru T have learned to love another, and I should be unjust to this lady and myself, should I try to keep the engagement to her. That is all I have to say, sir, except that I am at your orders,” The words had been spoken, and even Rose understood them. Blakeley gave her a look, pe she instantly retired, while the American aptain said to the other, in a low tone, that till Bowe no passion: eeZou bh ave been very frank, sir. I will ask you one further question. Has my present posi- tion, as the son of a man who was executed by your Government, anything to do with this de- termination?” Harwood looked at the other in a singular way. The force of bitter prejudice ap in bis face, but he seemed to struggling with himself, as he said slowly: “Not entirely, Of course I could not marry @ woman with a family blot like that—” Blakeley interrupted him, to say, with the first appearance of irritation that he had yet shown: “Be a little careful, sir. My temper is none of the best. You need say no more. Now for our meeting. I told you that [ would meet he on the seas. Lrepeat the message. Goon rd either brig of the two, and I will sail out of this barbor to night. Stop me if you can, and come after me if you dare. Good-night, Bo saying, he rose, and signified by his man- ner so clearly that the interview was over, that Harwood took the hint and rose with equal stiffness to say: ** As you please, sir. I do not belong to either of these brigs, but I shall take beseags in one of them, if it be only oe, the pleasure of cutting our Yankeecomb. You are brave enough when are only peaceable Indiamen to fight; but, The Lost Corvette. when it is a question of brigs that carry the same number of guns as you do, it is a different thing. I shall do my best to take you at sea, -evening, sir.” The English lieutenant went to the door and back on deck, followed by the American, and was shown over the side into bis own boat, with a stern civility that was ominous of the future, when the two met. Blakeley saw him off, and then gave some or- ders to Winthrop, after which he descended to the cabin, and sought his sister. She was not weeping, but sat. there, with a face set as if she had been suddenly turped to stone, Her brother went to her side and said softly: ** Rose, are you angry with me, because he is a scoundrel?’ Soe cast her arms round his neck, as she said, in a manner that showed how strong a@ curb she was utting on her naturally warm feelings: ohn, itisallover. Laman American now. On, if the sea would only cover us all, how hap- py I should feel when the waters closed over me! Do not speak to me, dear. I will try not to disgrace you, but it is very—very—hard work—” And here she broke down altogether, and burst into a tempest of sobs, which were hidden in her brother’s breast. He said nothing for some time, till the violence of ber first burst had abated, when he remarked as if to himself: “Tt makes one more debt to En land, and I shall never be able to pay them all; but this one I will. Rose, we are going to sea. Do you do- sire to go on shore and travel to London? If you do, I have provided a way.” She shook her head, as she answered huskily: ae now, brother: Thave but one wish left— to die CHAPTER XXX. RUNNING TO SEA, A sort and Reatie breeze was blowing across the harbor of Cadiz as the captain of the Wasp came on deck the second time, after the depar- ture of the English officer, and found the men of his ship at work, with a silence and order that showed how weil they were held in discipline. The two English brigs were all alive, and boats were passing to and fro from the shore, bring- ing cargoes of men, in all stages of drunkenness, to their vessels. Battle-lanterns were flashing at ‘every port, and the cabin windows were open, showing the officers ‘at work in the brigs, helping the few sober men take down the bulkheads and turn the vessels into fighting machines, The crew of the Wasp had nothing to do; for she had come into port cleared for action, "and her sails were all ready to hoist. The only dif- ficulty in the way of getting out, was that the English vessels might fire on her, as she was going, and Blakeley knew that they bad no re- spect for the neutrality of the port to keep them from doing so, if they saw that they might so gain an ata To prevent this was his aim, and he took his precautions to that effect. The Wasp was anchored between the two brigs, ber broadside ranged on the stern of the Avon, and the bows of the Castilian. Had he wished to open fire on both at one time, he could have raked them so severely that they must have succumbed to the storm. If he re- linquished the advantage, he would have to give them an op; on as he went ‘out, to rake him, without any chance to retaliate, on his part. To get out without giving them any such ad- vantage, was his object, and he took his meas- ures according] ‘% The ship was hove short on her cable, just as the tide was turning, and the Wasp was coy- ered with canvas in less than five minutes from the time that her men began to baul on the cap- stan-bars, No noise was pe pei and the people of the brigs were watched closely alltbetime. Blake- ley saw that they were busy pulling away the bulkheads, and that they would not be able to go to quarters in time to open fire. As soon as the sails of the stately ship began to drop from the yards, the Wasp moved out of her berth between the two brigs, with acelerity that would have put her out of danger in an- other minute, when the captain of the Avon was heard, shouting to his men: “Man t the starboard battery, and give the Yankee a dose,” There was a great bustle on board the Avon; but, before the men could obey the order, the American ship had gained a distance of about two cable-lengths, and at the same time her broadside was swung round to bear on the Avon, when her captain bailed: “Do you want to go into action, as you are? I am ready.” There was no answer, but the captain of the Avon was heard to call to bis men: * Avast with those guns, there.” Then came a taunting Jaugh from the Ameri- can ship, and the Wasp glided from the harbor, and passed out in safety. The British brigs had been bluffed off, when they had the game in their own bands if they had known it. The ship made the entrance of the harbor, pe a CRE SRE LT IRS LE SRO SN SNE ET CE AT AE IK, SRE OTS STES STARS RSET TTAE CT A A RS RTCA TE SI TN NE AT TUT and the captain was just giving the order te heave to, outside, and wait for the enemy, when the tall sails of another ship, coming in, were seen in such close proximity, that she had near- ly run them aboard, and there was only time to hail as they rusbed by each other: “Ship ahoy! what ship is that?” shouted a voice from the stranger. “ His majesty’s sloop Shark,” cried Blakeley, “ What ship is that?’ The answer, as the other ship ran on into fhe harbor, was: * His majesty’s frigate Trincomalee. What are the—” The rest was lost in the wash of the sea, and the flapping of sails as the Wasp hauled her wind and the two ships separated, the Wasp going out to sea, the other ship into the harbor. As soon as they were at a safe distance, Win- throp said to his commander, in a very grave tone: ‘‘That was a narrow escape, captain. it rather too hazardous to go into these Euro- se ports, when the enemy’s ships are swarm- ng every where?” {s not lakeley nodded ina thoughtful way, as he answered: “You are right; but what are we to do? There is no eotting anything in this world with- out risk, bat a commotion there will be in that ship as soon as she gets in and finds out how we bave fooled her! She is a twenty- eight. I have heard of her and have her ton- nage and battery in my notes below. We shall have fun with her some day.” ‘‘T am afraid, sir, that the fun will be of a kind which ouf reason will not approve. We cannot fight a twenty-eight.” ‘‘ There are twenty-eights and twenty-eights,” replied Blakeley, in the’ same indifferent way. | This fellow bas only twelve-pounders, and a few twenty-four-pound carronades, and, if we take him at close action, we might have a chance to blow a hole in him. I shall try him as soon as I have smashed those brigs.” He spoke of it as coolly as if the job were already performed, and went below, with orders to the first lieutenant to keep the land under his lee at asafe distance, and not to stand cff till the two English brigs hove in sight, when he was to be called. Then the night passed in quiet; for there is no stillness so mina ar as the quiet ‘of the sea, It was one of those nights when the youn sailor dreams of his girl at jhome, and the ol salt thinks of the coming rm, ccncealed in the peaceful aspect of the waters ‘and heavens, That such was the character of the calm and pe weather was apparent in the lowering the barometer in the latter part of the night, when the clouds began to gather over the heavens, and there was every symptom of the storm that was brewing. The sun rose next morning in the midst of clouds that were frin = ee with white and yellow, but showed very little red. The first glance of the lookout, as the light became sufficient to distinguish objects, was in’ the direction of the port cf Cadiz, and the cap- tain of the Wasp was awakened from sleep by the news that the two English brigs and the frigate of the night before were coming out of harbor ether, with the evident intention of fighting the single American ship that was out- side, waiting to meet them, The news brought Blakeley on deck, and he surveyed the three sails through the glass, and then gave orders to put the ship under all can- vas, and run out to sea to coax the enemy on. The morning advanced, and with it the weather thickened. The sun went out of sight behind the clouds, that gathered every moment thicker and thicker. The wind rose ‘and be to moan through the rigging, with that paoaline sound that is so ominous of. the coming tempest. The shrouds of the Wasp acted like barp-strings to the wind, and the masts creaked and groaned - as | swayed in their places to the rolling of the ship. There was not enough wind yet to put her to topsails and reefs, but the sound of the shrouds was of that peculiar character that forebodes the violence of the storm long before it bas come. ‘We are going to have ugly weather, and the repay is going to fight in the very middle of said Marion to Winthrop, as the two friends wees the deck and discussed the probabilities, “Tt is a tem oe of Providence to fight in such weather. e are going to have what is very like a hurricane, only we are not in the right latitude yet.” Winthrop shrugged his shoulders in a rather rueful manner, as he replied to his friend: ‘* There is no trouble about that. The skipper is that sort of man that he is as likely as not to lead those Britishers into the burricane lati- tudes on purpose to do what no one bas ever done before. I tell you what it is, Marion, the skipper is a good officer and a first-rate sailor; but, between you and me, he is not alto- gether—” And Winthro touched his farchead signifi- nen at whic Marion shook bis head, say- th You are wrong there, Win, He is as sori "ee bm i Ps rey Pane oe eee Se Pe ee AP LEE
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+ ' Avon was gE The Lost Corvette. 20 as you or I, but he has a past history that drives him to do all sorts of things other men never think of doing. He seems to have a singular spite against Englishmen, and he would rather sacrifice his own a if he could take two of theirs, than he would sail home safely and do as others have done before him, and good sailors too. But it is no business of ours, Win. We are the subordinates, and haye only to obey orders.” The rest of that day the Wasp continued to hold her course to the southwestward, with the English vessels after her, and the we powers of the different vessels were thoroughly tested by the gradually increasing wind. It was found that the American corvette eas- ily outsailed all three, and that the Avon was the faster of the two brigs, while the Trincoma- lee could not keep her relative position with the rest without great difficulty. Thus it happened, before dark, that the three English vessels were widely separated; the Avon being several miles ahead of the Castilian, and the Trincomalee at least five miles astern of ‘the latter vessel. The weather had become rougher than in th morning, and there was every prospect of a great storm. It was under these circumstances that Blake- fey gave the order, at about eight in the even- 10g, to put the ship about and stand for the von, CHAPTER XXXII. ONE AGAINST THREE. WHEN the Wasp had gone out of Cadiz, the ereeze had been favorable for ber departure; it had fallen nearly calm during the morning; the wind had shifted about noon, and now it was blowing from the southwest, a smart gale, with the clouds gathering thicker and thicker every minute; the sea rising faster and faster. As the Wasp turned her head toward thie nearest English vessel, the Avon was about five miles under her lee, As Blakeley put the ship on ber new course he beat to quarters and sent for his officers, to whom he made a short address, He told them that he had determined to at- tack the English brigs in succession, and try to disable them and the frigate, so as to secure the mastery of the seas in, that vicinity, for a space of time sufficient to’ sweep the prizes that swarmed in that part of the Atlantic, ready to reward the adventurous naval officer who had ‘an armed ship to gather them in. “We have already shown,” he told them, ‘that we can destroy the Huglish brigs-of-war that carry the same number of guns we do. The fate of the Reindeer shows that. The brig now under our lee is of the same force as the Reindeer, and the other is no stronger. . It is my intention to fight the Avon, to sink her at the first broadside; and I depend on you entlemen, to make the action short, sharp an ecisive. We are in a heavy sea. When we get close enough to the enemy to fire, I wish the broadside of the Wasp reserved till I give the signal. Tonen it must be aimed at the bull of the enemy, between wind and water, and every gun fired the moment that the sign b] is given. FW iat will the signal be, sir?’ asked Win- throp. « Phyree short blasts of the boatswain’s whistle. At the third the guns are to be fired, and the first and second are to aim low.” Then he dismissed the officers to their di- visions, and took the deck in chief command himself. : ; Now the solemn moaning of the wind in- creased, as the ship neared the enemy, ani it seemed as if Nature was sympathizing in the bloody drama about to be enacted. It was not quite dark yet, for the twilight lingered long at that time of the year, and the Gajlines of the three vessels that were following the Yankee sloop were plainly discernible. The etting closer and closer, and the Wasp was bounding over the billows like a thing alive. In half an hour from the time that the first order had been given, the Wasp and _ the Avon were within a quarter of a mile of each other, : Then the English brig luffed into the wind, tacked, so as to show her stern to the Wasp, and ran off with the wind on her starboard quarter, as if to invite the other to follow her, if she dared. The maneuver was the best that could have been made under the circumstances, be- cause it compelled the Wasp to go after her foe and fight her nearer to the English consorts of the Avon that were coming up astern, though ba faintly visible in the increasing darkness. he captain of the Wasp immediately ordered the topgallantsails set to close. He had re- duced his canvas to the topsails and courses, as the wind increased, and had come down to meet the Avon under that fighting sail alone. The effect of the topgallantsails was quickly manifest, ain on the or the ship began to Avon, sailing nearly two feet to her one, and doubling on her quarter so fast that the English eaptain hauled his wind and fired his whole hroadside at the Wasp, with a quickaess that did aim but little service. The aim, in the ob- re — scurity of the night, was bad and, while the Wasp was hit by several shot, the damage done was too slight to —e the ship. She con- tinued to gain on the Englishman all the faster, because he had hauled up to deliver his broad- side, and within five minutes more, was doub- ling on his quarter, within a cable-length, when the English captain put his helm hard aport, and brought his vessel round, to face the Wasp fairly, yard-arm to yard-arm. The Wasp held her course steadily, and came driving toward the Avon, as if to run her down amidships. Such was the hurry of the whole affair, the English captain had not had time to reload the guns that had just been fired, and his opposite broadside, which should have been the one ex- posed to the Wasp, was still idle, For one anxious minute it seemed asif the two ships must come into collision, and the re- sults could not be foretold. Both might be sunk, and the chances were that they would. A heavy gust of wind at that moment sent the Avon ahead, and the Wasp, instead of run- ning her down, passed by her stern, within fifty feet, All was perfectly silent in both vessels as they passed, the silence of expectation. As the bows of the American ship passed the stern of the brig, a wave sent one vessel up, the other down into the trough of the sea, The Avon, for a brief moment, seemed to be perched on the the summit of a lofty billow. At that instant, a shrill whistle sounded above the groaning of the wind in the rigging, and three sharp blasts followed each other, in rapid suc- cession. The last was drowned in the simultaneous ex- plosion of the Wasp’s battery and the flashes of the guns lit up the scene for a single moment. In that moment the hull of the Avon appeared suspended in the air, and the crashing of tim- bers and the sbricks of men in deadly agon were heard. Then came darkness again, and, when the smoke cleared away, the Wasp was seen to leeward, luffing up again to double on her antagonist, while the Avon had her sails shaking, as if her crew had lost all control over her, Tbe English brig flew up into the wind with a velocity that proved some accident bad hap- pened, and then came driving, stern-foremost, on the Wasp, taken aback and ready to go down. The American captain, seeing in a moment what had occurred, fell off and passed ahead letting the Avon drive past him to leeward. The steering gear of the brig bad been shot away by that lucky and well-timed broadside, and the Avon was helpless. It would be as much as her commander could do to save her from sinking, stern-foremost, and at that very instant of helplessness the Wasp fired her second broadside into the unresisting brig. The effect of the second visitation was more serious than the first. The Wasp fired it in a raking position, from the bow, and the dis- charge brought down the foremast of the Avon. Blakeley never stayed to ascertain whether she surrendered or not, but stretched off again to leeward to meet the Castilian, which was now coming up into the field of view of the night-glasses, inthrop, at his post in the waist, at the first division of the guns, uttered an exclama- tion of surprise, as he heard the order: ‘*Helm hard a-weather! Slack off the braces there; let her run!” The Wasp, without waiting to repair dam- ages, was going off to fight a new antagonist at once, : 2 The Castilian came up, close-hauled, pee heavily in the fast increasing sea, and, as she approached the Wasp, it could be seen that she was stripped to her fighting canvas, ready for the expected action. The Wasp came down with the wind on her port quarter, and the two vessels passed each other at less than a hundred yards, exchanging broadsides as they drove by. The fire of the Englishman was much heavier than that which had come from the Avon, and the crashing of timber that followed on the Wasp proved that the American ship was hit in more than one place, The Wasp, as soon as she had passed, luffed upand went after the brig to engage her afresh, but the Castilian, instead of continuing the fight, stood off to succor her consort, which was now firing guns ina manner that seamen re- cognize as signals of distress. **Run, by heavens!” muttered Winthrop to himself, as he peered through the drifting smoke to windward, and saw the Castilian van- ishing. Then came tbe orders from the quarter- deck: ‘““Helm a-weather! Let go the lee braces! Haul taut the weather braces!” The Wasp, obedient to her helm, went round on her heel and stood off to the eastward to meet the Trincomalee. That ship, which had fallen behind all the rest, a good three miles, was yet in sight, and the rate at which the Wasp was poing speedily brought her to view, when Blakeley passed for- ward, uttering cheering words. cl a a lh a at a cn ged la ee a Le a ge pss honda la age steps ost cyoinc~aecia np vtnniitpneme isan gs simpson tanaa te inh non eS aE a — Then, having found that no serious damage had been sustained by the Wasp, as far as could be ascertained, he held his course to meet the frigate, which he knew to have a force greater than his own, by at least ten guns. The night was growing darker and darker, all the time, and when the Trincomalee at last hove in plain sight, under the bows of the Wasp, it was blowing heavily. With the stern decision that distinguished his character, the American captain held his course toward the strange frigate, Already they were within a quarter of a mile, when the Trincoma- lee fell off from the wind, and fired her broad- side at the Wasp. The reports of the guns were light, and the sound of the shot as the hurtled = the ship, was almost lost in the howl- ing of the thickening storm. There was a crashing in one place, but no sign of damage Spare’ in the rigging or 6 of the Wasp. ‘he American ship was close to the English frigate soon after, and delivered her broadside at pistol-shot distance. t was fired when the frigate was ‘quartering on the sloop, and had a raking effect. The re- ports of nine thirty-two-pounder carronades in rapid succession, boomed out, and the foremast of the British frigate fell into the sea, as if it had been struck by lightning. Blakeley uttered an exulting cry, echoed by a wild yell of triumph from his crew at the sight, and the Wasp again hauled her wind and crossed the bow of her crippled antagonist, so as to give her the other broadside. This time it was a fair rake, and the crashing of. the carronade shot, as they made havoc in the upper works of the Trincomalee, showed that the frigate was getting the worst of it, notwithstanding the superiority of her force. his second broadside was even more de- structive than the first, and sent the mainmast of the frigate to follow the foremast. Blakeley made no stay to see what further damage might be done, but hauled his wind a third time, and stood off to the offing, after the two brigs. He bad a hard struggle, for the wind had now become a perfect gale and the sea was rising so fast that the ship had to be gr Sys to her close-reefed topsails. She pressed to windward as fast as she could, but the prospect of finding the English brigs be- came every moment more and more doubtful. The radius of vision only extended the space of the ship’s length on any side, and, after a hard figbt to get to windward, the search was given up, and the Wasp settled herself for a struggle wit® the storm, that had now fairly burst. The guns were secured, the watch set, and the cap- tain sent for the boatswain to get his report of damages sustained in the action. CHAPTER XXXII. THE, LAST PLUNGE. THE moment that the face of the worthy war- rant-officer of the Wasp appeared in the cabin, the captain saw that something was wrong. Mr. Macy’s face was as pale as death, yet he was one of the bravest of the Nantucketers who formed the best part of the ship’s crew. “What is the matter? Any of the masts hurt?’ asked Blakeley, with a steady voice. The boatswain shook his head, and answered, in a husky whisper: “Tt ain’t that, sir. The ship’s doomed. She wowt t another hour.” ‘*Why not?” asked Blakeley, in the same tone, and betraying no excitement at the news. ‘‘There’s a hole in her, under the floor, sir, and we can’t get at it, There’ssix feet water in the hold, already, and God have mercy on our souls is all that I have to say.” ‘‘How did it come, think you?” asked Blake- ey. “That last ship, sir. God forgive us for temptin’ him. It was only one shot, I guess, that hit us, way down, as we rose on the sea, by the keel. It ain’t much, sir; but it’s enough. She’s a-goin’ sure, and the sooner we get to the boats the—” ““Stop!” interrupted the captain, with such stern emphasis that the boatswain colored deeply and hung his head. ‘As long as one lank of this ship floats, Mr. Macy, J command bor and when! need advice I will ask for it, Call all hands and tell Mr. Winthrop I want him. Send the men tothe pnmpsatonce. Time enough to despair when all is lost.” Then, as the boatswain retired, Blakeley went to-the state-room where he knew his sister must bave heard all, and asked her, as she came vut: ‘‘ Did you bear it, Rose?” — She came to t bim, with a face that bad on ita erie ight as she said to bim, softly: “J beard him, and I am ready to die with you, Did I not say I had a presentiment: this voyage would end in death and disaster?” “iv may end in death,” he interrupted, ‘ but the time for disaster is past, Rose, This!night I have worsted three English men-of-war, of equal and superior force to my own sh P; and, if we sink now, we shall not die un- avenged.” © ; Rose actually smiled on him, as she an- wered: “Tt is better so, dear.” hts
Page 28
28 Then came a hurried knock on the door, and Blakeley called cut: ** Come in.” Winthrop came in and saluted, saying: ‘Captain, there is no time to lose, The ship is settling fast. The men talk of breaking into the store-room and getting drunk. What shall we do?” The captain’s face flushed slightly, as he said: ae will attend to them. Go on deck, sir, and keep order till I come.” Winthrop obeyed; and the exiled man folded his sister in his arms, saying solemnly: ‘It is for the last time, Rose. Now let us face death together.” She nodded her head, as if she understood what he meant, aud they went on deck. It was. easy to see something bad happened to shake the iron bands of discipline. All hands were on deck, and there was a hoarse murmur as the captain appeared, which told that trouble was imminent. When they saw the lady with him they hush- ed, and the commander of the Wasp shouted through the speaking-trumpet: ‘* All hands lay aft! I have something to say to you.” bere was an instant rush of the excited sailors abaft, where they confronted the cap- tain, in the midst of thé bowling storm, crowd- ing as close as they could get to catch what he was about to say to them. Already the motion of the ship was getting heavy and Jabored, and the incessant clang of the chain-pumps disturbed the speaker. For all that Ne persevered, and the men heard the greater part of what he had to say, He reminded them that they had come to sea to die, if need be, and he told them that the time to die had come. “No human power can save us,” he said, solemnly, *‘and the work at the pumps only uts it off for a little while. The question is: ow will you die? Will you die drunk, and stamp yourselves forever as cowards, afraid to look death in the face, or will you show the world the last lesson that you can show—that a are not afraid to look death in the face Me: og was a dead silence at that, and he con- tinued; “*T would send you to the boats, but you can see for yourselves that no boat would live in thissea. It is a question of how to die, and I depend on you to snow the world tbat you are the men who have beaten every ship you have met, and are afraid of nothing in this world or the next. Hark!” The flash of the lightning over the sea reveal- ed-in the distance two brigs close together, and as they looked another vivid flash showed them that one of the brigs was going down, ‘““We have sent our enemies before us,” said the captain of the Wasp; ‘and, if we go down, this ship has ‘cost the British Government two peiaee -war already. The fortune of war is pst us at last, and we cannot complain. All bands to quarters, and let us go down with the colors flying. To quarters!” Such was the influence of the bonds of disci- line and the manner of the man who had led hem so often to victory, that the sailors of the Wasp dispersed mechanically to their quarters, and the rows of silent men around the guns could be seen by the flashes of the lightning, as the Wasp plunged through the seas with a mo- tion that was growiug heavier and heavier. The clang of the pumps was as steady as ever, and the men went to relieve each other as regu- larly as if they had been machines, while the sail-trimmers attended to their duties as if noth- ing bad happened; butall the while the doomed hip kept settling and settling, and the sullen moan of the storm through the rigging had chan to a wild shriek, as if the demons were exulting over the fate of the Wasp. The brother aud sister, clasped in each other's arms, watched the sinking of the ship with countenances calm as if they were on a eMasure voyage. At last the men at the pumps stopped work, with a sullen unanimity that was oniin- ous. They saw it was useless, and the captain made no effort to drive them back. It was enough that they had to die, and he was only, concerned that they should die like men. The ship had already settled so far that the wash of the waves could be heard in the lower decks, under the hatches, which had been bat- tened down as the last precaution, The storm raged wilder than ever, and the faces of the wen, as revealed by the occasional flashes of lightning, were ghastly pale, but had a firm look, as if they were staring at death and trying to show what stuff they were made At last came a wave that dashed over.the bulwarks of the ship, so that the men at the guns were up to their knees in water, Then Blakeley turned to Rose, and said to her in a low voice: “Do you forgive me, child?” “For what?” she asked, : ‘*Por bringing you here to die, his, and_kiased bim She turned her face to tenderly saying: tf y hw Ba ve x.» eth 4 sibs me - . The Lost Corvette. ms ‘*T thank you for it, brother. The old name | will. perish; but we shall live after it is gone. God thanked, to-night, that the end has come at last.” He gathered her up in his arms, and at that moment another sea washed over the taffrail of the Wasp. illuminated the A vivid flash of lightnin é scene, and Rose saw the whole of the ship at a | glance. The sailors at their guns,as stiff as if at parade; | 954 Tae the officers at their posts; not a man flinching; not a sound of wailing in the sbip; the Wasp | swept on to her doom. Then the voice of weney' J pierced the air: ‘*Men, three cheers for the old flag! down, but that flies forever!” There, in the midst of the storm, with death | around them, the sailors united in a cheer, and ) We go went off in a grand salvo. It was the last shot ever fired from the Wasp. Ere the echo of that despairivg broadside had faded away from the clouds, the ship took a | plunge and went down, head-first, into the sea, E The last part to go was the quarter-deck, and the last people who saw her were the brother and sister, clasped in each other’s arms, As they went down, both smiled and said: * [tis not hard to die.” THE END. then, as if by one consent, every gun in the ship BEADLE’S Half-Dime Library. 160 Tur Brack Giant. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr... 161 New York Netit. By Edward L. Wheeler ... 162 Witt WILDFIRE IN THE Woops. By C. Morris, 163 Litrite Texas. By Oll Coomes.. ..... ....... 164 Danpy Rock’s PLepGr. By Geo. W. Browne..: 165 Bruty BaGGaGr, THE RamRoap Boy. Morris.. 166 Hickory Harry. By H y St. George....... 167 Asa Scorr. By Edward Willett.... ...... 168 DeapLy Dasa. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr..... 169 Tornapo Tom. By T. C. Harbaugh. . " 170 A Trump Carp. By Charies Morris... 171 Esony Dan. By Frank Dumont... 172 THounpERBoLT Tom. By and St. Geo SESITTTT rge 173 Danpy Rock’s Riva. W. Browne.. 174° Bos Rocxerr. By Charles Morris ....... ... 175 CAPTAIN ARIZONA. re §S. Warne....... 176 Tue Boy Runaway. By Lieut, H. D. Perry.. 177 Nonsy Nick or Nevapa. By E. L. Wheeler.. 178 Outp Sourrary. By Oll Coomes. ._...... .. 179 Bons Rockert, THE BANK RUNNER, By Morris. 180 Tue Sea Trarter. Lieut. H. D, Perry, U.S. N. 181 Witp FRANK oF Montana. By E. L. Wheeler. 182 HURRICANE. Oll Coomes.......... 183 THe Hrppen HaAnp. By Chas, Morris 184 Tue Boy Tratters. By Jos. E, Badger, Jr... 185 Evi. Eve. By Frank Dumont... ............ 186 Coot Desmoxp. By Col. Dele Sara........... 187 Frep HaLyarp. iy Chas. Morris .. .... 188 Nep Tempte. By T. C. Harbaugh .. 189 Bos Rockett, THE CrackSMAN. By C. Morris 190 Danpy DARKE. a R. ig AD i 191 BurraLo Bitty. Capt. A. B. Taylor,U.8.A. 192 Caprarn Kir. =f eut, H. D, Perry, U.S.N. 193 Tae Lapy Roap-Acent. By Philip 8. Warne. 194 BurraLo Brit's Ber. Capt. A. B. Taylor,U.S.A 195 Deanwoop Dick's Dream. By E. L. Wheeler. 196 SHapowED. By Charles Morris ....... ....... 197 Lrrrtz Grit. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.... 198 ArKANsAw. By T. C. Harbaugh 199 FeEATHERWEIGHT. By Edward Willett 200 Tue Boy Bepourns. By Capt. F. Whittaker.. 201 Tae Biack Hitis Jezepen. EK. L, Wheeler... 202 ProsPect Pere. By Ol] Coomes...... ..... 203 Tue Boy Parps. Jos. BE. Badger, Jr.......... 204 GoLp PLume. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham ... 205 Deapwoop Dick’s Doom. y E. L. Wheeler. 206 Dark PauL, THE TiGer Kina, By C. Morris. 207 Navaso Nick. By T. C. Harbaugh 208 Tue Boy Hercutes. By Oll Coomes..... weet e eae eae ++ tea weewe ; oe" | 209 F THe Bounp-Boy Drrective. Wheeler. 5c | 210 Faro Frank oF Hich Prn_ By W. R. Eyster... 5e | 211 Crookep Cate. By Jos, EB. OT ae | ee 5e | 212 DasHInc Dave. By Charles Morris....... .: 5e | 213 Frera To Tue Front. By E. L. Wheeler..... 5¢ | 214 Wo.FaanG. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker.. 5c 215 Caprain Butter. By T. C. Harbaugh 5e 216 Bison Brix. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham...... 5e 217 Caprain OCrack-SHot, By E, L. Wheeler.. . 5c 218 Ticer Tom. By Oll Coomes ... ... _...... 5e 219 Desparp, tHe Durust. By Philip 8. Warne. 5c 220 Tom Tanner. By Charles Morris,............ 5e | 221 Suear-Coatrep Sam, By Edward L, Wheeler. 5c 222 Grit, THE BRAvo Sport. By Col. Ingraham. 5c Ltr. By Edward Willett ...,...... .. Be | 224 Dasuine Dick. By Ol! Coomes.... .... 1 be4 25 Sam CHARCOAL, THE Premium Darky. By ; Charles Morris ee Be | By Col. Se yd Ingraham .. By ©. D. Clark 231 Pruexy Puiu. By T. C. Harbaugh............ 282 Goip-Dust Dick, By E. L. Wheeler.. ...... 233 Jom Buck or Anceis. By Albert W. Aiken.. 234 Benito, tHe Youna Honrse-Greaker. By Buckskin Sam.... .... S SFFFFF seeds tetes 235 Saapow Sam, THE Mrssencer Boy. By Charles Morris... Pee PAA 5c 236 Apotto Brut. By Edward L. Wheeler... .. . 5¢ 237 Lone Srar, tHe Cowsoy Carrain, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham... ... ...... 238 Tue Parson Derective. By Ol] Coomes 239 Tue GoLp-sEEKER Guing. By Mayne Reid... 240 Cyctone Kir, By Edward L. Wheeler.. .. .. 241 Brut Bravo AND His Bear Panps, By T. C. 242 Taz Two ‘Bioops.’ By Charles Morris.’ ... 243 Tue Disavisep Guing. By Oll Coomes, .... 5¢ | $25 Kectry, Hioxey & Co. By E L. Wheeler... | 886 Brun Biake, THe Stayer. By T. C. Harbaugh. | 827 Crempine Cat, THE Cappo, | 8288 THe Sky Detectives. By Major Mickey Free. | 829 Rep-Sxis Tom. By Ha | 834 Kanearoo Kiv. | 840 Cure, THE CONTORTIONIST. Ed. Willett. . , | 841 Tony. THorne. By Charles Morris..... ...... ; 842 Tae Mountain Devin, By Ha FRazard. . ; 845 Pirrness Marv. 252 Dick Dasuaway. By Charles Morris......... 253 Srerra Sam’s Parp. By E. L. Wheeler...... Har Bioop. By Edward §. Ellis, ..... 255 Caprain Apoutito. By T. C. Harbaugh... .... 256 Youne Kentuck, By Captain Mark Wilton.. 257 Toe Lost Hunters. By J; F.C. Adams... . 258 Srerra Sam’s Seven. By E. L. Wheeler... 259 THe GotpEN Harpoon. By Roger Starbuck. 260 Dare-Devit Dan. By Oll Coomes 261 Feravs Fearnavenut. By George L. Aiken.. 262 Tue YounG StevutTus. By Charles Morris. .. 263 Drapwoop Dick’s Diving. By E. L. Wheeler. 264 Toe Floating FEATHER. By Col. Ingraham, 265 Tue Tierr Tamer. By Capt. F. Whittaker.. 266 Kinip’ar, THE GuIpDE, By boro. Charles Dudley Warren, (of the Engineer Corps.)... 267 Toe Bucksnin Derectrive. By ee: y 268 Deapwoop Dicx’s Dreatn TRAIL. 271 THe Hues Hunter. Edward 8. Ellis ... 272 Miyxskin Mike. By Oil Coomes... .... ... 273 Jumpo Joz. By Edward L. Wheeler... ..... 274 Jotix Jm. By Charles Morris ... .......... 275 Arizona Jack. By Buckskin Sam . 276 MERLE Montr’s Crvisr. Ingraham .. .. 277 DENVER Dott. ag Mark Wilton.... y 289 Jouity Jum’s Jos. 290 Lirrte Foxrire. RES Oro as ts 291 Turk, THE FrRRet. Edward L. Wheeler. 292 SancHo Pzpro. Ey Major E. L. St. Vrain..,.. CLiaw. By Captain Comstock .......... 204 Dynamire Dan. oy T. C. Harbaugh.. ....... 295 Feartess Priz. By Edward Willett 296 Denver Doi’s Drirr. ts L. Wheeler. THe TARANTULA OF Taos, By Buckskin Sam. 8 THe Watrer-Hoonp. By Charles a . y E. » * 3S es LeapvitLE Nick. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.. — * acted Detective, By T. C. Har- eet ees . H. B. Stoddard. .... ckski ‘ By Jos, E. Badger, Jr. 5 ward Willett, .... By Major E. L. St, Vrain..... $138 CrmaRRON JACK. By Frederick Dewey. .. .. 314 Tae Mysrertovs Maravpger. By Ingraham. 3it Nep, Tae Canin Boy, By Jack Farragut... 816 Orv Eocrrpse. By T. C. Harbaugh... ........ 817 Peacock Perr, By Lieut, Alfred Thorne.... 318 Ker-wuoop, Ker-wHoo! By Buckskin Sam.. 319 THe Biack Rirer. » Jos, E. Padger, Jr... 820 THe Sea Sorceress. By Jack errenee bens 821 Deapwoop Dick’s Dozen. By E. L. eeler 222 Nemo, THE Detective. By Edward Willett... $23 ARKANSAW Jack. By Harry Hazard.... « 824 Ratps Reapy. By Charles Morris By Buckskin Sam. Hazard.. ay 230 LittLe ck-SHor. By Edward L. Wheeler. 331 PLack Nick. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. .... 22 Frio Frep. By Buckskin Sam... ...... 8383 Brimstone Bos. By Major E. L. St. Vrain.... By_E. Li, Wheeler... ........: cker. FP | 843 Mannatran Mike. By Edward L. Wheeler.. 344 Tue Fientixc Trio, By buckskin Sam...... By T. C. Harbaugh. 3 846 Rapier RapHaru. By Major H. B. Stoddard. 347 Deapwoop Dice’s Dvcats, By E. L. Wheeler. 848 Frre-Herets: or, Oid &kinflint the Death- Shadow. By Roger Starbuck,... . 9. 5... 319 Winp WoLr, rHx Waco. By Euckskin Sam.. | 850 Rep Raupu, the River Rover. By Ned Buntline. Sry tne. omnia 3 851 DeEapwoop Dick Sentenced. By Edward L. Wheeler. fi isois.cs 2» Depends. 852 Tompstonr Tom. By Maj. E.G. St. Vrain... 853 THe Reporter Detective. By Ches. Morris, 354 Bie Horn Iku, rar HrritTeamp. By Starbuck. 855 THe Kine or THe Woops; or, Daniel Boone's Last Trail. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr. ._....... 856 Deapwoop Dick’s CLaim. By EB. L. Wheeiler.. 857 Coot Sam anv Parp. By T. C. Harbauch.. .. Duranao Dave, THE YouNG WrisTLeER Cuam- PION, By Maj. D. L. St. Vrain....... ........ A new issue every Tuesday. SS SSSSEES SET RESSSESS SF TSR TT SSS TERS EEES PETTEL STL SLES SST S LT SSL S ERE LESSEE 5c gee ao0 S88F FF FF FSTTF The Half-Dime Library is for sale by all Newsdealers, five cents per on receipt of six cents each. Publishers, 98 William street, New York, x Jaks ae ANGE tg Ke: es ee: an “GWADLE & ADAMS,
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BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. — By Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, 994 Buffalo Bill’s Lone Hand. 989 Buffalo Bill’s Marked Bullet. 984 Buffalo Bill’s Life Rafile. pid Eueaio Bill’s Relentless Trail. uffato Bill’s Invincibles. (000 Buffalo Bill’s Blue Belt Brigade. Buffalo Bili’s Volunteer Vigilantes. Buffalo Bill at Bav. '943 Buffalo Bill’s Block Game. 936 Buffalo Bill's Black Pard. : 927 Buffalo Bill’s Bluff; or, Dusky Dick the Sport. 921 Buffalo Bill's tandary: or, Velvet Bill’s Vow. 15 Buffalo Bill the Surgeon-Scout. ‘Buffalo BAl’s League; ore _ Butterfly. Buffalo Bill’s Tangled T rail. Buffalo Bill’s Rough Riders. Buffalo Bill’s Secret Ally. 890 Buffalo Bill’s Life-Stake. 882 The Three Bills: Buffalo Pill Wild Billand Band- box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth. 874 Buffalo ‘it's Buckskin Braves, 869 Buffalo Bill's ip ete er Round-up, '863 Buffalo Bill’s Death Charm, 1857 Buffalo Bill’s Royal Flush. 851 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma, Lass Bill’s Redskin Ruse, 816 Buffalo Bill's Red Trail. 812 Buffalo Bill’s Death-Knell, 794 Buffalo Bill’s Winning Hand 787 Buffalo Bill’s Dead Shot. 781 Buffalo Bill's Brand. %77 Buffalo Bill's Spy Shadower, 769 Buffalo Bill’s Sweepstake. 765 Buffalo Bill’s Dozen; or, Silk Ribbon Sam, 761 Buffalo Ball's Mascot. 757 Buffalo ed Double. Buffalo Bill’s Big Four; or, Custer’s Shadow. \743 Buffalo Bill's Flush h Hand, oe Gane Beye hee Toe Media Dito o a is Merry Men ‘al Buffalo Bill’s Boagies: or, Silk Lasso Sam, Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard. 722 Buffalo Bill on the War- ath. 4716 Buffalo Bill’s Scout Shadowers. 710 Buffalo Bill Baffled: or. The Deserter Desperado. ‘697 Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Broth 1 Wuffalo Bill’s Blind Trail; = Mustang Mad, 7 Buffalo Bill’s Swoop;or, The King of the inex: ode Coney Clan; or, The Tigress of Texas, Sings s League; or, Buck Taylor in Texas. 640 Burt Bill’s Chief of Cowbo 8; or, Buck Taylor Sa B uffalo Bill's Lonanza; or. S ver Circle Knights, (862 Buffalo Bilt’s Grip; or, Vath Bound to Custer. Buffalo Bill’s Pledge: or. The League of a. ‘ Wild Bill's Gold Trail; or, The rate Doze 1% bat Bill’s Trump Card: or, The Indian Heiress, 168 Wild Bill, the Pistol Dead Shot, By Buffalo Bill. The Dread Shot Four. Texas Jack, the Lasso King 3 = The Ranch King Dead-Shot, White Beaver’s Still Hunt. , 807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist 800 oe ; Bi. me oe Skot. Buffalo Bill’s Gol The Dead Shot Nine; or, My Pards of the Plains, ala Red Renard, the indian Detective. One-Armed Parad; or, Borderland Retribution, The Wizard Brothers: or, White Beaver’s Trail, 304 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte. 19 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattle Th rim Sharp; or, The Soldier" 's Sweetheart, 83 Gold Bullet Svort; or, Knights of the Overland, 53 Death-Tralier, the Chief of Scouts. By Leon Lewis, Ned Buntline, ete. Buffalo on Ban; or. Cody hes “ Rescue. ue ‘BE BF Hh ee ay ny anon a PAYNE. ¢ Man from M the exico in New York. hark; ‘861 ‘The Tenderloin ote Thad Burr's Ten Strike, ies The Laie vey oe Kk. Pe ted COL. THOMAS H, monsrEny, ae Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Show. Ebio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen. Czar’s Spy.” Wrist, the Swordmaster. Bins BY J. W. OSBON. Bhadrach, the Sport Detective. me y Gilbert Goldspur the Dandy Sport, BY CAPTAIN HOWARD HOLMES, 929 Gentleman George, the Showman Sport. 912 Genteel Joe's Lone Hand. 903 The Train Detective. 896 Kent Keen, the Crook-Crusher, 888 Nightshade in New York, 879 Falcon Flynn, the Flash Detective. 871 The Crook Cashier, 859 Clew-Hawk Keene’s Right Bower. 847 Hiram Hawk, the Hariem Detective, 840 Major Bullion, Boss of the Tigers. 831 ahacowins the London Detective. 817 Plush Velvet, the Prince of Spotters, The Bogus Broker's Right Bower. 7883 The Night-Hawk Detective, 779 Silk Ribbon’s Crash-out, 765 Detective Zach, the Broadway Spotter. 751 The Dark Lantern Detective, 736 The Never-Fail Detective. 724 Captain Hercules, the Strong Arm Detective. 711 Dan Damon, the Gilt-Edge Detective, 701 Silver Steve, the Branded Sport. 694 Gideon Grip, the Secret Shadower, 684 Velvet Van, tbe Mystery Shadower. 673 The Dude Desperado 871 Jason Clew, the Silk-Wanded Ferret. the Man-Hunter. he Ferret Detective, 642 Red Pard and Yellow. as Silent Sam, the Shadow Sphinx. oe gros Sid, the Shasta Ferret. 5 Oid Cormorant, se Bowery Shadow. 569 Captain Cobra, the Hooded Mystery, a Danton, the Shadow Sharp. 550 Silk Hand, the Mohave Ferret. 548 The Magnate Detective. 532 Jack Javert, the Independent Detective, 523 Reynard of Red Jack: or, The Lost Detective 512 Captain Velvet’s Big Stake. on Phil Fox, the Genteel Spotter. Richard Redfire, the Two Worlds’ Detective. $87 Stnshine Sam, a Chip of the Old Block, 480 Hawkspear, the Man with a Secrec. 458 Coldgrip in Deadwood. 469 Captain Coldgrip, _ Detective, 453 Captain ny 1 ade ng Trail. 447 Volcano, the Spy. 441 The California Sharp. 434 Lucifer Lynx, the Wonder Detective, 421 Father Ferret, the Frisco Shadow, 413 Captain Coldgrip in New York, 407 Captain Coldgrip’s Nerve; or, Injun pine 400 Captain Coldgrip; or. The New York Spo 392 The Lost Bonanza; or, The Boot of Silent Hound, 882 The Bonanza Band: or, Dread Don of Cool Clan, 874 Major I Blister, the S: ort of of Two Cities, 365 Keen Kennard, the Shasta Shadow, Desperate aes 247 Denver Duke, the Man with “ Sand.” io Cool Conrad. the Dakota Detective 335 Flash ot Bowie Bar. an, the Nabob, or, Blad 821 California. Claude, the Lone Ban 294 Broadcloth Burt. the Denver Dandy. 941 The Shadow Sport from Frisco. BY WILLIADY H. MANNING, $48 The Red-Gloved Pay as 931 Frisco Frank at oe oe 920 The Monctans Miner in ween York, 905 The Doomsday-Den Detective. 899 The Double-Quick Detective, pees Yellow Gid, of Dark Divide. 835 ‘The Expert Detective’s sgn 875 Trapping the Race-Track Judge. 864 The Police Special’s Dilemma. 849 The Genteel Sharper’s Combine 841 Graydon’s Double Deal. 838 The Sport Detective’s Grip. 828 The Athlete Sport About ‘own. 808 TheCrook-De tective’s Pull. 790 — er Pete, the Race Track Detective, 782 Ro Rock, the rer Sera Detective, %%4 rece Starr, the 764 The New York rake ihadoseax: 738 Detective Claxton, the Record Breaker, 714 Gabe Gall, the Gambolier from Great Hump, 703 Spokane Saul, the Samaritan 8 692 Dead Shot Paul, the Deep-Ra Fe ean 655 Strawberry Sam, the P soya wi 646 Dark Johu, the Grim G 638 Murdock, the Dread Detecting 623 eee go Dave, the Never-Beaten Detective. 611 Alkali Abe, the Game Chicken from Texas, 596 Rustler Rube; the Round-Up Detective. 585 Dan Dixon’s Double, 570 Steady Hand. the Napoleon of Detectives 568 Wyoming Zeke, the Hotspur 551 Garry Kean the Man wit adie bone, 589 Old Doubledark, the Wily Detective. 531 Saddle-Chief Kit, the Prairie Centaur, 521 Paradise Sam, the Nor’-West Pilot. 513 Texas Tartar, the Man With Nine Lives, 506 Uncle Honest, the heacemaker of ee Nest. 498 Central Pacific Paul, the Mail Train Spy. 492 Border Bullet,: the Prairie Sharpshooter, 486 Kansas Kitten, the Northwest Detective. 479 Giadiator Gabe, the Samson of Sassajack. ps The Duke of Dakota. 463 Gold Gauntlet. the Gulch Gladiator. 455 Yank Yellowbird, the Tall Hustier of the Hills, = Bluff Burke, King of the Rockies, Wild West Walt, the Mountain Veteran, 47 Deap Duke; or, The Man of Two Lives, 427 The Rivals of Montana Mill 415 Hot Heart, the Detective § PY, “ Old Baldy’ the Brigadier of Buck Basin. Colorado Rube, the Strong Arm of ped 279 The Gold Dragoon; or, California Bi BY NED BUNTLINE 4 Long Tom, he Privateer. 633 The Sea 621 The Red Pri¥ateer: or, The Midshipman Rover. 584 Fire Feather, th 7 S17 Buifalo Bill First Tra et ne @ Train Pilot. i= ce Sabberday, the Idiot 8 Sue of Honeysuckie. BEADLE'S*] )IME*]IBRARY. Published Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Numbers. ALBERT W. AIKEN’S NOVELS. Dick Talbot Series. 991 Dick Talbot at the Mines: or, Kentuck, the Sport, ; 988 Rocky Mountain Rob. 976 Overland Kit; or, The oe of White Pine. 741 Dick ‘l'albot’s Close Call. Wai Dick Talbot in Apache Land. 733 Dick Talbot. the Ranch King. 729 Dick Talbot’s Clean-Out. 725 Dick Talbot in No Man’s Camp, 854 Dick Talbot; or, The Brand oF Cnmson Grose 36 Dick Talbot; or, The Death-Skot of Shasta, Aiken’s Fresh of Frisco Series. 825 Fresh, the Race-Track Sport. 660 The Fresh in Montava; cr, Blake's Full Hand. 652 The Fresh’s Rustie at Painted City. 647 The Fresh at Santa Fe; or, The 7 Sharp, 556 Fresh, the Sport: or. The Big Racket at Slide on 537 Fresh Against the Field; or, Blake, the Lion, 497 The Fresh in Texas; or. The Escobedo Millions, 461 The Fresh of Frisco on the Rio Grande. 97 The Fresh in Big Walnut Camp; or, Bronze Jack, Aiken’s Joe Phenix Sertes. 965 Joe Phenix's Mascot. 959 Joe Phenix’s Double Deal. : a Joe Phenix ip Chicago. - 9 The Doctor from Texas; or, Joe Phenix’s Clue, . oa Joe Phenix’s Rigut Bower. 885 ae Female Barber Detective; or, Joe Phenix in ver 799 Joe Phonte? ’s Great Blue Diamond Case; or, en) New York Sport at Long Branch. 793 Joe Phenix’s Peew or, The Man of Three. 760 Joe Phenix’s Lo we Hane. 2) ‘749 Joe Phenix’s Big ules, wR poe? 745 Joe Phenix’s Mad Case. a 708 Joe Phenix’s Siren; or, The Woman (oy oe 700 Joe Phenix’s Unkn own; or, Cru: he Crooks 681 Joe Phenix’s Specials; or, The pene de Detective! 687 Joe Phenix in y Camp 682 Joe Phenix’s r Searc <a 628 Joe Phenix’s Goatees ;or,the Dandy Couspirator 620 Joe Phenix’s Silent Six. 601 Joe Phenix’s Shadow; or.the Detective’s Monitor, 419 Joe Phenix,, the King of Detectives. 161 Joe Phenix’s Great Man Hunt. 112 Joe Phenix, Private Detective; or, The League, 79 Joe Phenix, the Police Spy. { Aiken’s Miscellaneous Novels. + 980 The All-Around Athlete. . = Captain Jack, the Scalpe' 935 The Hawks and Wolves ret New York $ 932 Detective Gordon's Grip. +. $26 Old Sunflower, the Silent Smiter. 923 Old Sunflower, the Hayseed De 901 The Hotel Swell-Sharp; or, The Siren Shadow | 892 The Country man Detective. 876 Gold Button Sport; or. The Miner Sharps, 842 Teton Tom, Half-blcod. lood. 835 The King: $14 The tow Yor ker rei Texas Sports. 775 King Dandy, the Silver Sport. 753 terete ‘8 rortghary Se Babylon Bar. 717 Ca) cGowen, the Greencoat Detective: 674 Uucte fe Sun Up, the Born Detective, 670 The Lightw eight Detective. 665 The Frisco Detective; or, The Golden Gute Find. 613 atid Billy, the Sport: Old Benzi the “ Hard Case” Detective, 5% Fire Face, nthe Silver King’s Foe. 596 The Silver Sh arp Detective. 577 Tom, of Calif ornia; or, Detective’s Shadow Act, 570 The Actress Detective; or, The Invisible Head 562 Lone Hand, the Shadow. 520 The Lone Hand on the Caddo, x 490 The Lone Hand in Texas. 475 Chin Chin, the Chinese Detective, 465 The Actor Detective. 440 The High Horse of the Pacific, 423 The Lone Hand; or, The Red River Recreants. 408 Doc Grip, the Vendetta of Death. 381 The Gypsy Gen tleman; or. Nick Fox. Detective 376 Black "Fe wter o1, The Rio Grande e High Horse, ETA ok ns alaleglars wningshield, the De vi 320 The Geneeet Spotter: or The N, Y. eabk Gu 252 The Wali Street Blood; or, The saint ower 208 The Double Detective: ‘or,The Madnight 196 La Marmoset, the Letective Queen, "101 The Man from New York. 91 The Winning Oar: or. The Innkee eit des Daughter, 84 Hunted Down: or, The League 81 The Human Tiger: or, A Heart of Fire, a Gentleman George; or, Parlor. 72 The Phantom Hand; oT The 5th vane peg eatery ‘Hmey afte fae ba et otk. ¥. 81 The New York Sharv: or, 27 The Spotter Detec ve: or, Girls eet New ae NEW ISSUES. 1000 Buffalo Bill’s Grim Guard. By Col. 1% The Brand-Burnersof Cimarron. By Jo Gabon, 1002 Silver City Sam. By Jos. “ 1003 Gold Dani on, Dick Talbot HT By Albers 1004 Bait lo Bill's Death Pear By Col. Ingraham. ¢ ‘| 1005 1° soot Hills Frank, os. EB. Badger. 1006 The Sea Cadet. By & Je vadvahas” JUST ISSUED. | 996 Injun Dick, the Shasta Dead Shot, } 997 Hi Hotspur Hal, the § Sport from Hard ek By | ‘ta: eScowalt, Pri 00 tas The Velvet, Ha Hand nid oF, ~The Grip of Inge of Injun A new issue every Sian: THE PINE LIBRARY is for sale = Newsdealers, to" ee Ca" or sept by receipt of price. Swe .. Pa, eS NP Wars ont, awe
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BEADLE's*] )IME*|IBRARY. . ¥uBiished Every Wednesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Ten Cents. No Double Mumbers. BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR. Old Sobersides, the Detective of St. Louis, 125 White-Horse Wheeler, the Revenue- Detective, HB The Double Edged Detective. 07 Maverick Mark. the Man from Nowhere, @8 Silky Steele, the Stay-in Sport. Hint: otter-Sport’s ag thie ips 3 ater rk; or, Silver-Ti 2 Riata Rob, the Range Champion. 355 The Cowboy Chief’s Sure-Shot, 648 The Rival Red-Hat Sports, 837 Kid, the Cheyenne Sport. $24 The Soft Hand Detective, 815 The Soft Huand’s Clutch. Dan Dunn, the Soft-Hand Sport. 795 The Frisco Detective’s Thug-Tangle, “89 Sam Cary, the River Sport. °80 The Dead Sport’s Double. ¢71 Prince John, Detective Special. 763 Dandy Don, the Denver Detective. 234 Whe Man from Texas; or, Dangerfield, ‘the octor Detective. 744 Sweepstakes Sam, the Silver Sport. 720 The ret Six; or, Old Haleyon. 712 The Man of Silk. 705 Bantam Bob, the Beauty from Butte. 693 Kent Kasson, the Preacher Sport. 683 Bob Breeze, the Rounder Detective, 675 Steel Surry, the Sport from Sunrist, 668 Solemn Saul’s Luck Streak 661 The Get-There Sharp. 651 SilVeatip Steve, the Sky Scraper from Siskiyou. 645 Gopher Gabe, the Unseen Detective. 636 Dandy Darling, Detective. 627 Mossback Mose, the Mountaineer. 617 The Grip-Sack Sharp’s Even up. 597 Big Bandy, the Brigadier of Brimstone Butte, 588 Sandy Sands, the Sharp from Snap City, 576 Silver-Tongued Sid; or, Grip Sack Sharp’s Sweep. 564 The Grip-Sack Sharp; or, The Seraphs of Sodom. 655 Grip-Sack Sid, the Sample Sport. 547 ‘The Buried Detective; or, 5gul’s Six Sensations, 541 Major Magnet, the Man of Nerve. §85 Dandy Dutch, the Decorator from Dead-Lift t27 Dandy Andy, the Diamond Detective. §14 Gabe Gunn, the Grizzly from Ginseng, 504 Solemn Saul, the Sad Man from San Saba, 495 Rattiepate Rob; or, The Roundhead’s Reprisal 488 The Thoroughbred Sport. 474 Daddy Dead-Eye, the Despot of Dew Drop, Old ugh and Ready, the ange of Sundown Duteh Dan. the Pilgrim from Spitzenberg. 443 A Cool Hand; or, Pistol Johnny’s Picnic, @8 Oklahoma Nick. #83 Laughing Leo; or, Sam’s Dandy Pard., 26 The Ghost Detective; or, The Secret Service Spy. 16 Monte Jim. the Black Sheep of Bismarck. 8 Rob Roy Ranch; or, The Imps of Pan Handk, % The Nameless Sport. % pea Aim, the Duke of Derringers. 8? Dark ORE the Ishmael of the Hills. a bg beng risp, the Man with a Record. A Royal Flush; or, Dan Brown’s Big Game. 360 Jumping Jerry, the Gamecock from Sundown, 355 Stormy Steve, the Mad Athlete. 851 Nor’ West. Nick, the Border Detective. 345 Masked Mark, the Mounted Detective. a Spread Kagie Sam, the Hercules Hide clunter. Chispa Charley, the Gold N ugget Sport, $17 Prank Lightfoot, the Miner Detective, 292 Moke Horner, the Boss Roustabout. 286 Pistol Johnny; or, One Man in a Thousand, 283 Sleek Sam, the Devil of the Mines. 257 Death Trap Di DES. or, A Man ’Way Back 249 Elephant Tom, of Durango, 241 Spitfire Saul, King of the Rustlers, 233 The Old Boy of Tombstone, 201 Pirate of the Placers; or, Joaquin’s Death Hunt 180 Old °49; or, The Amazon of Arizona, 170 Sweet William, the Trapper Detective, 165 Joaquin. the Terrible 154. Joaquin, the Saddie King. 141 Equinox Tom, the Bully of Red Rock. 119 A ma Joe; or, The Yazoo Man-Hunters. -205 Dan Brown of Denver; or. The Detective, 88 Big er or, The Five Outlaw Brothers. 71 Captain Cool Blade; or, Mississippi Man Shark, M4 The Boy Jockey; or, Honesty vs. Crookedness, Jack Rabbit, tne Prairie Sport. BY WM, G. PATTEN. 810 ig he the Thug’s Terror. 495 Old. Night-Hawk, the Crook Shadower, 768 The Prince of New York Crooks. 966 Old Burke, the Madison Square Detective. 747 Double-voice Dan’s Double Disguise. 715 Double-Voice Dan on Deck, 702 Double-Voice Dan, the Always-on-Deck Detective $96 Double-Voice Dan, the Go-it Alone Detective, 689 The Sparkler Sharp. — 676 Hurricane Hal, the Cowboy Hotspur. 669 Old True Blue, the Trusty. 663 "The Giant eng or, Sold to Satan. Id Plug ay the Rough and Ready. 648 Gold Glove Gid, the Man of Griv. 641 Jack, the Desert Nomad, 631 Colonel Cool, the Santa Fe Sharp, $02 Captain Nameless. the Mountain Mystery. Old Dismal, the Range Detective. ‘45 Wustler Harry, the Cowboy Sport, BY GEORGE C. JENKS. The Arizona Detective. Silver Sam, the Shasta Sport. Silver Sport’s Double. ‘ RaecesCourse Detective. The Hayseed Detective. Ceriee Corden, the Twister Detective. 3 Wiid Pete. the Broncho-Buster Detective. 92% Fearless Sam, the Graud Combination Detective. Beston Bob, the Sport Detective. v Joe, the Jockey Detective. Sharp, the Rustler ; t, the Tent Detective. Grip, the Tenderfoot Detective 5 BY WILLIAM R. EYSTER, $16 Two Dead-Square Sports. 902 Soft Velvet, the Man from Sandrock, 891 Genteel Jim, Sport-at-Large. 881 The Clubman-Crook’s Cat’s-paw. 867 The Frisco Sport. 852 The Stranger Sport’s Shake-up. 828 Kirk King, the Man from Kirby. 818 Gentleman Dave, the Dead Game Sport 783 The King-Pin Tramp. 767 The Sport of Silver Bend, 718 Unele Bedrock’s Big Bounce. 707 The Rival Rovers. 687 Double Cinch Dan, the Sport With a Charm, 677 Mr. Jackson, the Gent from Jaybird. 659 Gilt-Edge Johnny; or, Roldan and His Rovers, 650 Lucky Lester’s ne Hand. 634 Old Handcart'’s Big Dump. 622 "Phe All Around Sports. 603 Desert Alf, the Man With the Cougar. 590 Gentle Jack, the High Roller from Humbug, 578 Seven Shot Steve, the Sport with a Smile, ,568 The Dude Detective. 558 Hurrah Harry, the High Horse from Halcyon, 5349 Belshazzar Brick, the Bailiff of Blue Blazes, 533 Oregon, the Sport With aScar. 508 The Dude from Denver. 478 Pinnacle Pete; or, The Fool from Way Back. 459 Major Sunshine, the Man of Three Lives, 429 Hair Trigger Tom of Red Bend, 402 Snapshot Sam; or, The Angels’ Mat Racket, 896 The Piper Detective; or, The Gilt Edge Gang. 875 Royal George, the Three in One, 856 Three Handsome Sports; or, The Combination, 833 Derringer Dick, the Man with the Drop, 268 Magic Mike, the Man of Frills. 229 Captain Cutsiceve; or, The Little Sport.' 214 The Two Cool Sports; or, Gertie of the Gulch, 182 Hands Up; or, The Knights of the Canyon., 160 Soft Hand, Sharp: or, The Man with the Sand. 145 Pistol Pards; or, The bilent Sport from Cinnabar BY NED BUNTLINE, 657 Long Tom, the Privateer. 633 The Sea pe 621 The Red Privateer; or, The Midsliipman Rover, 584 Fire Feather, the Buccaneer King. 517 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail. 861 Tombstone Dick, the Train Pilot. 122 Saul Sabberday, the Idiot § y. 111 The Smuggler Captain; or, TheSkipper’s Crime, 18 The Sea Bandit; or, The Quéen of the Isle. 16 The White Wizard; or, The Seminole Prophet. BY JACKSON KNOX—‘ Old Hawk,” 888 Old Grips Still Hunt. $27 Detective Walden’s Web. 778 The Butler Detective; or, Old Grip’s Grip 770 The Showman Detective, 762 Old Grip, the Detective, 740 Captain Clew, the Fighting Detective. 732 The Hurricane Detective. 648 Castlemaine, the Silent Sifter. 616 Magnus, the Weird Detective. 606 The Drop Detective. 595 Wellbagn, the Upper Crust Detective. 582 Joram, the Detective Expert. 574 Old Falcon’s Double. 561 The Thug King; or, The Falcon Detective’s Foe. 548 Falconbridge. the Sphinx Detective. 536 Old Falcon’s Foe; or, The Detective’s Swell Job. 515 Short-Stop Maje, the Diamond Field Detective, 509 Old Falcon, the Thunderbolt Detective, 501 Springsteel Steve, the Retired Detective, 494 The Detective’s Spy. 485 Rowlocis. the Harbor Detective, 477 Dead-arm Brandt. 467 Mainwaring. the Salamander. 462 The Ciscus Detective. 451 Griplock, the Rocket Detective, 444 The Magic Detective; or, The Hidden Hand, 424 Hawk Heron’s Deputy. 886 Hawk Heron. the Falcon Detective. BY J. 0, COWDRICK, 752 The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. 626 Ducats Dion, the Nabob Sport Detective. 612 Sheriff Stillwood, the Regulator of Raspberry. 598 The Dominie Detective. 591 Duke Daniels, the Society Detective. 580 Shadowing a Shadow. 565 Prince Paul, the Postman Detective. 557_The Mountain Graybeards; or, Riddies’ Riddle, 519"70ld Riddles, the Rocky Ranger 499 Twilight Charlie, the Road Sport. 7% Gilbert of Gotham, the Steel-arm Detective. 452 Rainbow Rob, the Tulip from Texas, 4 436 Kentucky Jean, the Sport from Yellow Pine, 422 Blue Grass Burt, the Gold Star Detective. 800 The Giant Cupid; or Cibuta John’s Jubilee. BY EDWARD WILLETT, 488 Flush Fred, the River age 868 The Canyon King; or, a Price on his Head, 348 Dan Dillon, King of Crosscut. 837 Old Gabe, the Mountain Tramp. 827 Terrapin Dick, the Wildwood Detective. 215 Flush Fred’s Double; or, The Squatters’ League 808 Hemlock Hank, Tough and True. 208 Logger Lem: or, Life in the Pine Woods, 289 Flush Fred’s Full Hand, 274 Flush Fred, the ag irene a Sport. 248 Montana Nat, the Lion of Last Chance Camp, 22 Bill the Blizzard; or, Red Jack’s Crime. 209 Buck Farley, the Bonanza Prince. 129 Mississippi Mose; or, a Strong Man’s Sacrifice, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 27 The White Squaw, 234 The Hunter’s Feast. 218 The Wild Huntress; or, The Squatter. 200 The Rifle age rs or, Adventures in Mexico. %4 Tire Captain of the Rifles; or, The Lake Queen, 66 The ter Barque. A Tale of the Pacific. Oe The Sealy trunters komance of the Plains, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. 911 The Blue Blockader; or, The Coast Grayhound, 906 The Cuban Cruaser. ’ " Si Me Witte i | e Wi teer Riders; or, Texas Jack's Ferro 839 The Rival Monte Cristos.’ ™ 805 The Last of the Pirates; or, Doom Driven. t 801 The Water Wolves’ Detective; or, the Grave Ghouls. ° 791 The Coast-Raider’s Death-Chase. 748 Arizona Charlie, the Crack-sbot Netective. 704 Invisible Ivan, the Wizard Detective. 685 The Red-skin Sea Rover. 679 Revello, the Pirate Cruiser; or, The Rival Rovers. 672 The Red Rapier; or, The Sea Rover’s Bride, 662 The Jew Detective; or, The Beautiful Conviet, 640 The Rover’s Retribution. 635 The Ex-Buecaneer; or, The Stigma of Sin. 625 Red Wings; or, The Gold Seekers of the Bahamas, oe dare one ‘he Red Flag Rover; or, White Wings of the 605 The Shadow Silver Ship. Y woot 600 The Silver Ship; or, The Sea Scouts of 76. 593 The Sea Rebel; or. Red Rovers of the Revohution, 587 Conrad, the Sailor Spy; or. True Hearts of °%6, 581 The Outlawed Skipper; or, The Gantlet Runnes, 560 The Man from Mexico, : 553 Mack Monte, the Mutineer; or, The Branded Brig, h46 Ths Doomed Whaler; or, The Life Wreck, ” 530 The Savages of the Sea, 524 The Sea Chaser; or, The Pirate Noble, 510 El Moro, the Corsair Commodore, 493 'The Scouts of the Sea. 457 The Sea Insurgent: or, The Conspirator Son, 446 Ocean Ogre, the Outcast Corsair, 435 The One-Armed Buccaneer. “ 430 The Fatal Frigate; or, Rivals in Love and Wan 899 The New Monte Cristo. 893 The Convict Captian, 877 Afloat and Ashore; or, The Corsair Conspiraton. 869 The Coast Corsair: or, The Siren of the . 864 The Sea Fugitive: or, The Queen of tne’ Coask 3841 The Sea Desperado, 336 Tne Magic Snip; or, Sandy Hook Freebooters. 825 The Gentleman Pirate; or, Tne Casco Herniits, 818 The Indian Luccaneer; or, The Red Rovers, 3807 The Phantom Pirate; or, The Water Wolves. 255 The Pirate Priest; or, The Gambler’s Daughter, ’ 246 Queen Helen, the Amazon of the Over ntning the Man of Chance. 224 Black Beard, the Buccaneer. 220 The Specter Yacht; or, A Brother’s Crime, 210 Buccaneer Bess, the Lioness of the Sea. 205 The Gambler Pirate; or, Lady of the Lagoog, 198 The Skeleton Schooner; or, The Skimmer. 4 184 The Scarlet Schooner : or. The Sea Nemesis. 104 Montezuma, the Merciless. , . 108 Merle, the Mutineer; or, The Red Anchor Braug ¥ BY PHILIP 8S. WARNE, 802 Dan Dirk, King of No Man’s Land. 583 Captain Adair, the Cattle King, 567 Captain Midnight, the Man of Craft, 544 The Back to Back Pards. 622 The Champion Three. 502 Bareback Buck, the Centaur of the Pidins, 472 Six Foot Si; or, The Man to “ Tie To.” 431 California Kit, the Always on Hand. 404 Silver Sid; or, A * Daisy ’’ Bluff. 380 Tiger Dick's Hledge: or, Tne Golden Serpent, 359 Yellow Jack, the Mestizo. 3388 Jack Sands, the Boss of the Tewn. 299 Three of a Kind; or, Dick, Despard and the Sport, 251 Tiger Dick vs. Iron Despard. ; 207 Old Hard Head; or, Whirlwind and his Mare. : 171 Tiger Dick, the Man of the Iton Heart. 114 Thé Gentleman from. Pike. 80 A Man of Nerve; or, Caliban the Dwarf, 54 Always on Hand; or, The Foot-Hills Sport, 29 Tiger Dick, Faro King; or, The Cashier’s Grime, 4 The Kidnapper; or, The Northwest Shanghai, . BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. 323 Hotspur Hugh; or, The Banded Brothers, 311 Heavy Hand; or, The Marked Men. 805 Silver-Plated Sol, the Montana Rover, 291 Horseshoe Hank, the Man of Big Luck, 285 Lightning Bolt, the Canyon Terror, 276 Texas Chick, the Southwest Detective. 271 Stonefist, of Big Nugget Bend. 266 Leopard Luke, the King of Horse-Thieves- 263 Iron-Armed Abe, the Hunchback Destroyer 258 Bullet Head, the Colorado Bravo. 237 Long-Haired Max; or, The Black e. 227 Buckshot Ben, the Man-Hunter of Idaho. 223 Canyon Dave, the Man of the Mountain, ; 219 The Scorpion Brothers; or, Mad Tom's Missig¢ 202 Cactus Jack, the Giant Guide. 194 Don Sombrero, the California Road Gent, 176 Lady Jaguar, the Robber Queen. BY OLL COOMES. 619 Kit Bandy & Co, the Border Detectiveg. 148 One-Armed Alf, the Giant Hunter, 99 The Giant Rifleman: or, Wild Camp Life. 43 Dakota Dan, the Reckless Ranger, BY COL. THOMAS H. MONSTERY, 236 Charmpion Sam; or, The Monarchsof the Sheg 150 El Rubio Bravo, King of the Swordsmen, BY DR. NOEL DUNBAR. vi 919 The Sea Scout; or, The Patriot Privateer. 886 The King of Crooks, 858 Number One, the Dead-set Detective. 850 The Planter Detective. 720 Duke Despard, the Gambler Duelist, a 604 The Detective in Rags; or, Phe Grim Shadower, 500 The True-Heart Pards. A new. tasue every Wednesday Beadle’s Dime Library is for sale ee Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by Co receipt of twelve cents ea’ ‘ ore ee
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_ BEADLE'’S*H ALF-DIME* LIBRARY. — @ublished Dvery Tuesday. Ee®h Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdeateme, - ; BY OLL COOMES, Kit Bandy’s Pard; or, Dauntless Dan, the Freelance. Kit Han in Re ulnys or, The Young Whirlwind, oe t Bandy’s Big Rustle; or, Saddle King Sam. 804 t Bandy’s prigeset or, Dan, the Mountain Guide, B¢ Kid Pandy’s Brigade in Arizona. 9 Kit. Baady’s Star Engagement. 258 Jack Drew, the Nemesis; or, Eagle Kit, the Boy Demon, 82 Jack Drew's Drop; or, Litde Hurricane, the Boy Captain. 202 Jack Drew in Deadwood; or, Prospect Pete. 27 Keen Knife on Guard; or, Antelope Abe, the Boy Guide, B81 Keen-Knife, the Prince of the Prairies. & Vagabond Joe, the Young Wandering Jew 18 The Dumb 8 ead ota ve mw 00 duck, Ry Young Mustanger. he Horder King; or, The Secret Fog, ‘A Delaware Dick, the Young mana : 4 povheore parry the Young Trapper Rangeg’ 88 Kollog the Boy Ranger; or, The Heiress, ’ Sure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman, Rear-Face Saul, the Sent Hunter, Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. Tiger Tom, the Texas Terror, 1 Daming Dick; or, Trapper Tom’s Castia, itéle Wildiire, the Young Prairie Nomad. 88 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranges, 248 The Disguised Guide; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 260 Dare-Bevil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 72 Minkakin Mike, the Boy Sharpshooter. 90 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spv; or, Old Caleb Arbuckly, 800 The Sky Demon; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger. SS4 Wirip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero. 409 leren) vr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. 417 Webtoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 457 Wingedfoot Fred: or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Sig Trapper Boy. 482 Sto all Bob, the Boy Trojan. ‘ Blundpring Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper 4 gen oD va re ee orway Nela, the v Monntatneer, (Sie Iipbland Marry, the Wizard Rifleman. 828 Poker Jack, the Detective Sport. j BY T. J. FLANAGAN, 909 Midehipman Dare, the Pirate Catchen e You Cowboy Captain. yk Ewe Uiidshinesons on The? Coreair-Chaser’s First BY DAN DUNNING, : J ineks the Secret Service Spy. z and Jack, the Invincibles; or, The Diabolical Three, etective Dave’a Close Call ‘Farrel Fox and Wis Girl Ferret, ! 6S Farrel; Fox’s Sweep-Stakes, 4 BY GEORGE ©. JENK, Git Ther Owney the Unkn 1490 Git Thar Owney's Pledec Demon Doctor; ot, Deadhold, the Kid Detective. Double-Curve m, the Pitcher Detective, mae, vne Singer Detective; or, Owney in a New Role, € e Pitcher Betective’sa Foil: or, Dan’s Danble Play. Vone’s bese ty or, The Jasper City Clean Out. et Daisy, the Posy Pards. let Vanes Vor Yan nev triloquist Vid Sport vs. Sport, e Ven + or, rt vs. Vane, the Vanqaich The Lit re the Sport from Denver. 4 Bombshell, the Ranger Detective. D pes the Man of Fire; or, Among the Vultures, © ytramp Detectives or, The Double Grip Witness : n E a = 2 ry the Man from Missouri. miata Cal, the Nover-Say-Die Detective, dan. Service Specig}.. ar potter Bob in owe ra potter Bob's Bowery Racket. BY COLONEL DELLE SAR&,! ! lyog The Lt Seas or, The Lad on of th 7 ‘ase CoM Deamonds or, Tie Gamblers Bie Go, BY CAPTAIN FRED, WHITTAKER, 16 The fea-Ont3; or, The Witch of Darien. 9 The Dumb 18 ick Bari uee Shes ernst nee & MBO $ or, The Chi ¥ 1 tical cane Tas or, The Land ofthe Bets t Riders Loxt Captain; or, Skipper Jaber Coftin’s @ oy oulns $ or, The Brothers of the Plamed Lance ‘214 Wolfgang, the Robber of the Rhine. mer the Animal King; er, Round th ey ofl or, The Leagee of the om a Joe's War Trail, BY CAPT. J. F. ©. ADAMS, . Sols or, Nick Whiffies’ Hegre, the Great Shot of the Wet the y ‘a Pott or, In The Val White Indian; or, The Seovt of the Yeilowstone, Cnbin 3 or, The G os the Terror ofthe Praiien wo or, Bess, emale ‘as P $ of, The Wild Phowtresm, niet ‘a, the Firebrand. 4 oF, ¢ oe, The Human Vinngeccl? BY T. ©. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o the Nights; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge} or. The Little Hunter. 47 Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, Jandy Jack; or, The Outlaws of the Oregon Trai. 82. Kit Haretfoot, the Wood-Hawk; or, Old Powder-faca, 94 Midnight ack 3 or, The Boy Trapper, aes Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen, 28 Kiowa @harley the White Mustinger. 189 Judged. gnch Jr; or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Tom; or, Injun Jack From Red Core, 188 Ned Temple, the Porder Boy; or, The Mad Hanten 198 Arkansaw } or, The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Tonknot’s Crusade. 281 Plucky Phil; or, Rom, the Rea Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravos or, The Roughs of the Rockies, 255 Captain Apolivys tne King-Pin of Bowie. 267 The Kuckskin Detective; or, The King of Road-agents. 2T9 Old Winch? or, The Buckexin Desperadoes, 294 Dynamite Pan; or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. 802 The Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Bar Bally, 816 Old Eclipse, Tromp Card of Arizona, 826 The Ten Pards; or, The Terror of Take-Notico. 886. Ric Benson; or, The Queen of the Lasso, 845 Pittlesas Matt; or, Red Thunderbolt’s Secret. 856 Cool Sam and Pardy; or The Terrible Six. 66 Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective, 83 Captain Outlase 5; or, The Brecaneer’s Girl Fos, 896 Rough Rob} or, The Twin Champions of Blue Blazes, 411 The Silken Lasso? or, The Rose c Ranch Robin. 418 Felix Fex, the Boy Spotter; or, The Gold Gang of New You& 425 Texas Trump, the Border Rattler. 486 Phil Flash, the New York Fox; or, The Mystery of Room 21, 445 The City Vampires; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. 461 One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar, 470 The Boy Shadow: or, Felix Fox’s Huat. 477 The Execcisior Sport; or, The Washington Spotter. 499 Single Steet the One-Eyed Sport. 502 Branded Ben, the Night ferret. 612 Dodger Pick, the Wharf-Spy Detective. $21 Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge; or, The Gotham Gold Gang, 528 Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows. 588 Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret, 548 Dodger Dick’s Double; or, The Rival Boy Detectives, 558 Dodeer Dick’s Desperate Case. 568 pecker Dick, the Boy Vidocq; or, The Gang of Three, 578 The Two Shadows; or, Dodger Dick’s Stop Game. 582 Dodger Dick's prev or, The Man from Jersey. 594 Little Lon, the Street Siarer Detective. 610 Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sharp on Guard. 626 The Champion Pards; or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, 1 Photograph F red, the Camera Sharp. ey 3 ¥ ido Awake tens the oe oay Fret sie als e the Pavement tective; or vis Bills, Winka, the Bell Boy Detective. iene a Std gully Winks, tes Bap Ber Deets, ° a e Ne je 'y on Guard: or, ‘ne Camp Idera, TRO Toukaway ‘Tom, the Red Wherd, . B25 Shs te Behe Space Prt Pa » the Batter erret$ or, #ack eeners S9T Dave Doon’s Su Meus, i 905 Dandy Nugget, the Bow Shadow, 921 The Boy from Denver.: BY CHARLES MORRIE, 118 Will Somers, the Boy Detective. 122 Phil Hardy, the Boss Boy. F Will Wuldai 52 Black Besa, Will Wildfire 5? Mike Merry the Harbor Police Boy. 62 Will Wildfire in the Woods, 65 Billy Baggage, the Railroad Boy. 70 A Trump Card; or, Wil) Wildfire Wins and Leese 74 Bob Rockett}; or, Mysteries of New York. 7 ob Rock the Bank Runney, BF Fred Matgard, the Lite’ Boat Boy, cr, The Stomper re alyard, the t Boy; or, The r ob Rockett; or, Driven to the Wall. 6 owed 3. or, Bob Kockett's Fight for Lafe. rf ark Paul, the Tiger King. lett 28) Dave, the Detective, 220 Tom Tanner: or, The Black S of the Flock, hyd Sam Oharcoal the Premium y. 35 Shadow Sam, the Messenger Boy. he eo Bloods %; or, Shenandoah Rill and His Gang. 62 Dick Dashaway ; or, A Dakota Boy in Chicago. 2 The Young Sharpest or. Rollicking Mikw's Hot Trafl, 274 Jolly Jim, the Detective Apprentice. : 289 Jolly Jim’s Job; or, The Young Detective. 298 The Water-Hound; or, The Young bg sty he 805 pee way, of Dakota: or, A Western in Quaker City, 824 Ralph Ready, the Hotel Boy Detective. 841 Tony Thorne, the Vagabond Detective. 868 The Reporter-Retectives or, Fred Figers Bliscard. B67 Wide-Awake Joe; or, A Boy of the Times, 879 lars the Leveler;: or, The Bloods of the Boulevara, 08 Firefly Jack, the River-Rat Detectivo. The Lost Pinger; or, The Entrapped Cashier, 428 Fred Flyer, the Reporter Detective. 482 Invincible Logan, the Pinkerton Ferret, 456 ery Brick, the Jolly Vagavond. 466 Wide-Awake Jerry, Detective; or Entombed Alive, 479 Detective D or, The Mystery of Frank Hearty. 488 Wild Dick Racket: or, How He Fonght for Honor, 661 Boots, the Boy Fireman: or, Too Sharpor the Sharper, b&6 The Secret tervice Boy Deteetive. 596 Jimmy the Kid; or, A Lamb Among Walves. 627 Tom Bruce of Arkansas: or, The Wolf in the Fold. 655 Plucky Paul, the Boy Speculator. 667 Bob and Sam, the Daisy Detectives. 709 The Curbstone Detective; or, Harry Hale’s Big Beat, Th7 Detective Frank’s Sweep-stakes, 869 Ned Norman, the Gamin Broker, S81 Turkey Billy. the Shine-’em-up Detective, 917 Flash Lightning, the Mountain Mascot. BY ALBERT W. AIKEN, 11 The Two Detectives; or, The Fortunes ofa Bowery Gir te Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. 9 Bol Ginger, the Giant Trapper. 288 Joe Buck of Angels and His Buy Pard. 447 New York Nat. A Tale of Trieks and Traps in Gotham. 8 New England Nick; or, The Fortones of a Poundling, rumble ick, the Circus Prince, 498 Taos Ted, toe Arizona Sport. § Cool Colorado, the Hall-Breed Detective. 8 Gool Colorado in New York: or, The Cowboy's Fighs# BY OAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR U0. 8. A 184 Bustale Bully'thct The Gehlert, BY J. W. OSBON, 469 The Rival Giants of Nowhar’. 498 Cactus Burr, the Man from Hard Lack. 587 Old Buckeze, the Sierra Shadow. 664 Powder Phil, the Boy Miner; ce, The Man Without s Pag, 609 Bolly Dorrit, the Veteran npg A _ 620 Litt © Lightning's League; or, Mystery of the tol, 688 Pluck aul, the Boy Pros 4 EEL Geld Mee te cto hee Baths Baga >» Go ust Dan’s Cath; or, $28 Gold-Dust Dan’s Snap-Shot, ’ BY JOSEPH E. BADGER, JR, Vellowstone Jack; or, The pag the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George jerson. 128 The Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold, Be Harry Caveriiieh . 148 Sharp Samy; or, The Adventures of a Friendlies Bop, My J- Alexander Patten. ; 227 Pusky Darrell, ; or, The Green Ranger of the Yel. lowstone. By Edward ° 261 rouse eens the New York Boy. G, L, aiken. 26 ar, the Guide; or, Davy Croekett's Trai By En Cc. D. Warren. 298 Red Claw, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid of the Clit, By Captain Comstock. 817 Peacock Pete, the Lively Lad from Lesdville. By Liew tenant Alfred Thorne. 828 e. oxy Beene ¢ or, A Boy's Fight for Life and Moneas ior cke 5 850 Ked Ralph, the River Rovers or, The Brother’s Re 865 Balti 2, a eager een Detect! % A. altimore Ben the AC ve, q ste Gold-Dust Tom: or, Ben’s Double Mateh. 6 Fron 876 Calffornia Joe’s First Trail. By oyer Monstery. 418 Billy Rombahcl, tho Cliff Climber. By F.8. Winthrop. TS The Black Sh By John 8. Warner. Aon Gane, Black Ship oa iis Three Invinelbles, By Henry J. Thomas. 582 The Cowboy Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. Bee A se boc Perret. By Hs Entea. atera, the Bov . . 682 The Dea ive’« Double. By Gerad Cariton. 721 Maverick one, in arco Detective; or, The Wiened a le n le 809 Don Danton, the Gent from Denver. By King Keene, of @ . 8. ice Corps. 14 Ace High, the Frisco Detective. By C. E Tri, B60 The crim \odgers In. Rag Alley; o, Citven abr of Num’ ee ongg Be. Ben pi gece) By 3.6 1 i er . .G, S25 Pes Gnslucy the Cade Pave Bort. Dy Sam duke Dev. y B the Swamp Fox. By oe Fee $43 eS lig the Sport; or, The ‘Dutor: tive’s Lone d, Kine Roone, uy A New Iseuc Every Teesday . The Half-Dime Library { tor sale on M sa any Wal oo ee eae Si. ET tah more he. 2
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.§ Hs. q has Se ee ~ a pe 8, . _* * - Cece Te TE ey Oh ete mr eee ws < 7 AG FOR ae Se =n Each Number Complete. 979 Buffalo Bill's Relentless Trail. By Colonel|820 White Beaver’s Still Hunt; or, The Miner Prentiss Ingraham, 973 The Dread Shot Four; ar, My Pards of the Piains. By Col. W. F. Cody. ‘ Marauder’s Death-Track. By Buffalo Bill. Si6 Buffato Bill’s Red Trail; or, The Road-Rider Renegade’s Run Down. By Col. P, Ingraham. 964 Buffalo Bill's Invincibles; or, The Sable Shad-| 812 Duffaio Gill's Death-Knell; or, The Red Hand ‘ower’s Sublime Sacrifice. By Col. P. In - a gra 960 Buffalo Bill's Blue Beit Brigade; or, Sun- 956 Buffalo Bill’s Volunteer Vigilantes; or, The Mysterious Man in Blue. By Col. P. Ingra- 950 Buffalo Bill at Bay; or, The Gold Seeker's Doom. By Col. P. Ingraham, 943 Buffalo Bill's Block Game; or, The Mounted hae of the Overland. By Col. P. Ingra- ham. 938 Buffalo Bill’s Black Pard; or, The Gold Boomers of the Big Horn. By Col. ham. P. Ingra- 927 Buffalo Bill's Bluff; or, Dusky Sport. By Col. P. Ihgraham. 921 Buffalo Bill's Quandary; or, Velvet Bili’s Vow. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 915 Buffalo Bill and the Surgeon Scout: or, Go- wan-go, the Redskin Rider. By Col. P. In* graham. : 909 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. f 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. $90 Buffalo Bill's Life-Stake; or, The Pledged Three. By Col. P, Ingraham. 882 The Three Bilis; Buffalo Bill, Wild Bill and Band-Box Bill; or, The Bravo in Broadcloth. _ By CoL P, Ingraham, 874 Buffalo Bill's Buckskin Braves; or, The Card Queen’s Last Gane. By Col. P, Ingraham. 869 Buffalo Bill's Road Agent Round-Up; or, 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- gor? Death-Run. By Col. Prentisa Ingra- Dick, the | 851 Buffalo Bill's Double Dilemma; or, The Great Scout's Big Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. 845 Buffalo Bill's Redskin Ruse; or, Texas Jack’s Death Shot. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. The Ranch King Dead-Shot; or, Texas Jack's Proxy. By Buffalo. Bill. \ o 830 Buffalo Bill’s Boys in Blue; or, The Brimstone Band's Blot-out. By Col. P. Ingraham. $26 Buffalo Bill's Sharp-Shooters; or, The Surgeon a Scont to the Reseuss By Col. P. aver ey : alo Bill’s Best Bower; or, Montebello the Hs King. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. —ceipt of J0000000080 000000000 200000000 000000000 Riders of the Rockies, By Col. P. Ingraham. OT Wild Bil, the Wild West Duelist; cr, The Girl Mascot of Moonlight Mine. By Buffalo Bill. flower Sam of Shasta. By Col. P. Ingraham. | 807 Wild Bill, the Wild West Duelist; or, The Girl Grande Ralph, falo Bill. 794 Buffalo Bill's Winning Hand; or, The Masked Woman of the Colorado Canyon. By Col. P. Ingraham. 78T Baffalo Bill's Dead Shot; or, The Skeleton Scout of the Colorado. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 781 Buffalo Bill's Brand; or, The Brimstone Brotherhood. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. T17T Buffalo Bill's Spy-Shadower; or, The Masked Men at Grand Canyon. By Col. P. Ingraham. 273 Buffalo Bill’s“Ban; or, Cody to the Rescue. By Leon Lewjs. . 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. 761 Buffalo Bill’s Mascot; or, The Death Valley Victim No. 13. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 757 Buffalo Bill’s Double; or, The Desperado De- tective. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 150 Buffalo Bill's Big Four; or, Custe’s Shadow. By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. ) 748 Buffalo Bill’s Flush Hand; or, Texas Jack’s Bravos. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 139 Buffalo Bill’s Blind; or, The Masked Driver of Death’s Canyon. By Col, Prentiss Ingra- ham. 735 Buffalo Bill and His Merry Men; or, The Robin Hood Rivals. By Col. Prentiss Ingra- ham. : 781 Buffalo Bill’s Beagies; or, Silk Lasso Sam. By Col. Prentiss Ingraham, 727 Buffalo Bill’s Body Guard; or, The Still Hunt of the Hills, By Col. Prentiss Ingraham. 732 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 Ruffalo Bill Baffled; or, e 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. 687 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, the Cowboy Chief. By Buf- i as ‘ HE DIME LIBRARY is for sale by all Newsdealers, ten cents per copy, or sent by mail, pre-paid, on re- price. 653 The Lasso King’s League; or, The Tigera 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. S17 Buffalo Bill’s First Trail; or, Will Cody, the Pony Express Rider. By Ned Buntline, 414 Red Renard, the Indian Detective; or, The Gold Buzzards of Colorado, By Buffalo Hill. 401 The One-Armed Pard; or, Red Retribution in { Borderland, By Buffalo Bill. 397 The Wizard Brothers; or, White Beaver’s Trail. By Buffalo Bill. 394 White Beaver, the Exile of the Platte; or, : : By Buffalo { Z Wronged Man’s Red Trall. 862 Buffalo Bill's wR or, Oath-bound to Custer, By Col, Prentiss Ingraham. $29 Buffalo BIll’s Pledge; or, Three. By Col. P. Ingraham, $19 Wild Bill, the Whirlwind of the West. By { Buffalo Bill 804 Texas Jack, the Prairie Rattler; or, The Queen of the Wild Riders. By Buffalo: Bill. 248 The Pilgrim Sharp; or, The Soldier’s Sweet- }-. Government Scout 4 heart. By Buffalo Bill, 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, Dashi Dandy, the Hotspur of the Hills, By Majo D. Burr. ; 92 Buffalo Bill, the Buckskin King}, or, The 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 on Love in a Frontier Fort. By Buffalo NEW ISSUES TO COME. 981 The Gold Lace Sport; or, The Texan Sam- son’s Wide Swath. By Jos. E. Badger, Jr, 982 Chris Crewley’s Winning Hand; or, The Rascally Valet's Double Game, By A. P. Morris. i; 988 Kid Glove Kris, the Sport. By J. C. Cow- drick. Ready August 25, 984 Buffalo Bill's Life Raffle; or, The Doomed Three. By Col. P. Ingraham. Ready Sept. 1. S1|s S19 S19 S319 S}9 sa) 1s |S s;s 1oo0000e000a0' The League of By Major Dangerfield | . ae