STOLEN TREASURE

BY

HOWARD PYLE

Author of "Men of Iron" "Twilight Land" "The Wonder Clock" "Pepper andSalt"

ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR

MCMVII

CONTENTS

I. WITH THE BUCCANEERS

II. TOM CHIST AND THE TREASURE-BOX

III. THE GHOST OF CAPTAIN BRAND

IV. THE DEVIL AT NEW HOPE

ILLUSTRATIONS

"'I'VE KEPT MY EARS OPEN TO ALL YOUR DOINGS'"

"THIS FIGURE OF WAR OUR HERO ASKED TO STEP ASIDE WITH HIM"

"OUR HERO, LEAPING TO THE WHEEL, SEIZED THE FLYING SPOKES"

"SHE AND MASTER HARRY WOULD SPEND HOURS TOGETHER"

"'. .. AND TWENTY-ONE AND TWENTY-TWO'"

"''TIS ENOUGH, ' CRIED OUT PARSON JONES, 'TO MAKE US BOTH RICH MEN'"

"CAPTAIN MALYOE SHOT CAPTAIN BRAND THROUGH THE HEAD"

"HE WOULD SHOUT OPPROBRIOUS WORDS AFTER THE OTHER IN THE STREETS"

STOLEN TREASURE

I. WITH THE BUCCANEERS

_Being an Account of Certain Adventures that Befell Henry Mostyn underCaptain H. Morgan in the Year 1665-66. _

I

Although this narration has more particularly to do with the taking ofthe Spanish Vice-Admiral in the harbor of Puerto Bello, and of therescue therefrom of Le Sieur Simon, his wife and daughter (theadventure of which was successfully achieved by Captain Morgan, thefamous buccaneer), we shall, nevertheless, premise something of theearlier history of Master Harry Mostyn, whom you may, if you please, consider as the hero of the several circumstances recounted in thesepages. 

In the year 1664 our hero's father embarked from Portsmouth, inEngland, for the Barbadoes, where he owned a considerable sugarplantation. Thither to those parts of America he transported withhimself his whole family, of whom our Master Harry was the fifth ofeight children--a great lusty fellow as little fitted for the Church(for which he was designed) as could be. At the time of this story, though not above sixteen years old, Master Harry Mostyn was as big andwell-grown as many a man of twenty, and of such a reckless anddare-devil spirit that no adventure was too dangerous or too mischievousfor him to embark upon. 

At this time there was a deal of talk in those parts of the Americasconcerning Captain Morgan, and the prodigious successes he was havingpirating against the Spaniards. 

This man had once been an indentured servant with Mr. Rolls, a sugarfactor at the Barbadoes. Having served out his time, and being oflawless disposition, possessing also a prodigious appetite foradventure, he joined with others of his kidney, and, purchasing acaraval of three guns, embarked fairly upon that career of piracy themost successful that ever was heard of in the world. 

Master Harry had known this man very well while he was still with Mr. Rolls, serving as a clerk at that gentleman's sugar wharf, a tall, broad-shouldered, strapping fellow, with red cheeks, and thick redlips, and rolling blue eyes, and hair as red as any chestnut. Many knewhim for a bold, gruff-spoken man, but no one at that time suspectedthat he had it in him to become so famous and renowned as he afterwardsgrew to be. 

The fame of his exploits had been the talk of those parts for above atwelvemonth, when, in the latter part of the year 1665, Captain Morgan, having made a very successful expedition against the Spaniards into theGulf of Campeachy--where he took several important purchases from theplate fleet--came to the Barbadoes, there to fit out another suchventure, and to enlist recruits. 

He and certain other adventurers had purchased a vessel of some fivehundred tons, which they proposed to convert into a pirate by cuttingport-holes for cannon, and running three or four carronades across hermain-deck. The name of this ship, be it mentioned, was the _GoodSamaritan_, as ill-fitting a name as could be for such a craft, which, instead of being designed for the healing of wounds, was intended toinflict such devastation as those wicked men proposed. 

Here was a piece of mischief exactly fitted to our hero's tastes;wherefore, having made up a bundle of clothes, and with not above ashilling in his pocket, he made an excursion into the town to seek forCaptain Morgan. There he found the great pirate established at anordinary, with a little court of ragamuffins and swashbucklers gatheredabout him, all talking very loud, and drinking healths in raw rum asthough it were sugared water. 

And what a fine figure our buccaneer had grown, to be sure! Howdifferent from the poor, humble clerk upon the sugarwharf! What a dealof gold braid! What a fine, silver-hilted Spanish sword! What a gayvelvet sling, hung with three silver-mounted pistols! If Master Harry'smind had not been made up before, to be sure such a spectacle of glorywould have determined it. 

This figure of war our hero asked to step aside with him, and when theyhad come into a corner, proposed to the other what he intended, andthat he had a mind to enlist as a gentleman adventurer upon thisexpedition. Upon this our rogue of a buccaneer Captain burst outa-laughing, and fetching Master Harry a great thump upon the back, sworeroundly that he would make a man of him, and that it was a pity to makea parson out of so good a piece of stuff. 

[Illustration: "THIS FIGURE OF WAR OUR HERO ASKED TO STEP ASIDE WITHHIM"]

Nor was Captain Morgan less good than his word, for when the _GoodSamaritan_ set sail with a favoring wind for the island of Jamaica, Master Harry found himself established as one of the adventurersaboard. 

II

Could you but have seen the town of Port Royal as it appeared in theyear 1665 you would have beheld a sight very well worth while lookingupon. There were no fine houses at that time, and no greatcounting-houses built of brick, such as you may find nowadays, but a crowdof board and wattled huts huddled along the streets, and all so gay withflags and bits of color that Vanity Fair itself could not have beengayer. To this place came all the pirates and buccaneers that infestedthose parts, and men shouted and swore and gambled, and poured outmoney like water, and then maybe wound up their merrymaking by dying offever. For the sky in these torrid latitudes is all full of cloudsoverhead, and as hot as any blanket, and when the sun shone forth itstreamed down upon the smoking sands so that the houses were ovens andthe streets were furnaces; so it was little wonder that men died likerats in a hole. But little they appeared to care for that; so thateverywhere you might behold a multitude of painted women and Jews andmerchants and pirates, gaudy with red scarfs and gold braid and allsorts of odds and ends of foolish finery, all fighting and gambling andbartering for that ill-gotten treasure of the be-robbed Spaniard. 

Here, arriving, Captain Morgan found a hearty welcome, and a messagefrom the Governor awaiting him, the message bidding him attend hisExcellency upon the earliest occasion that offered. Whereupon, takingour hero (of whom he had grown prodigiously fond) along with him, ourpirate went, without any loss of time, to visit Sir Thomas Modiford, who was then the royal Governor of all this devil's brew of wickedness. 

They found his Excellency seated in a great easy-chair, under theshadow of a slatted veranda, the floor whereof was paved with brick. Hewas clad, for the sake of coolness, only in his shirt, breeches, andstockings, and he wore slippers on his feet. He was smoking a greatcigarro of tobacco, and a goblet of lime-juice and water and rum stoodat his elbow on a table. Here, out of the glare of the heat, it was allvery cool and pleasant, with a sea-breeze blowing violently in throughthe slats, setting them a-rattling now and then, and stirring SirThomas's long hair, which he had pushed back for the sake of coolness. 

The purport of this interview, I may tell you, concerned the rescue ofone Le Sieur Simon, who, together with his wife and daughter, was heldcaptive by the Spaniards. 

This gentleman adventurer (Le Sieur Simon) had, a few years before, been set up by the buccaneers as Governor of the island of SantaCatherina. This place, though well fortified by the Spaniards, thebuccaneers had seized upon, establishing themselves thereon, and soinfesting the commerce of those seas that no Spanish fleet was safefrom them. At last the Spaniards, no longer able to endure theseassaults against their commerce, sent a great force against thefreebooters to drive them out of their island stronghold. This theydid, retaking Santa Catherina, together with its Governor, his wife, and daughter, as well as the whole garrison of buccaneers. 

This garrison were sent by their conquerors, some to the galleys, someto the mines, some to no man knows where. The Governor himself--LeSieur Simon--was to be sent to Spain, there to stand his trial forpiracy. 

The news of all this, I may tell you, had only just been received inJamaica, having been brought thither by a Spanish captain, one DonRoderiguez Sylvia, who was, besides, the bearer of despatches to theSpanish authorities relating the whole affair. 

Such, in fine, was the purport of this interview, and as our hero andhis Captain walked back together from the Governor's house to theordinary where they had taken up their inn, the buccaneer assured hiscompanion that he purposed to obtain those despatches from the Spanishcaptain that very afternoon, even if he had to use force to seize them. 

All this, you are to understand, was undertaken only because of thefriendship that the Governor and Captain Morgan entertained for LeSieur Simon. And, indeed, it was wonderful how honest and how faithfulwere these wicked men in their dealings with one another. For you mustknow that Governor Modiford and Le Sieur Simon and the buccaneers wereall of one kidney--all taking a share in the piracies of those times, and all holding by one another as though they were the honestest men inthe world. Hence it was they were all so determined to rescue Le SieurSimon from the Spaniards. 

III

Having reached his ordinary after his interview with the Governor, Captain Morgan found there a number of his companions, such as usuallygathered at that place to be in attendance upon him--some, thosebelonging to the _Good Samaritan_; others, those who hoped to obtainbenefits from him; others, those ragamuffins who gathered around himbecause he was famous, and because it pleased them to be of his courtand to be called his followers. For nearly always your successfulpirate had such a little court surrounding him. 

Finding a dozen or more of these rascals gathered there, Captain Morganinformed them of his present purpose--that he was going to find theSpanish captain to demand his papers of him, and calling upon them toaccompany him. 

With this following at his heels, our buccaneer started off down thestreet, his lieutenant, a Cornishman named Bartholomew Davis, upon onehand and our hero upon the other. So they paraded the streets for thebest part of an hour before they found the Spanish captain. For whetherhe had got wind that Captain Morgan was searching for him, or whether, finding himself in a place so full of his enemies, he had buriedhimself in some place of hiding, it is certain that the buccaneers hadtraversed pretty nearly the whole town before they discovered that hewas lying at a certain auberge kept by a Portuguese Jew. Thither theywent, and thither Captain Morgan entered with the utmost coolness andcomposure of demeanor, his followers crowding noisily in at his heels. 

The space within was very dark, being lighted only by the doorway andby two large slatted windows or openings in the front. 

In this dark, hot place--not over-roomy at the best--were gatheredtwelve or fifteen villanous-appearing men, sitting at tables anddrinking together, waited upon by the Jew and his wife. Our hero had notrouble in discovering which of this lot of men was Captain Sylvia, fornot only did Captain Morgan direct his glance full of war upon him, butthe Spaniard was clad with more particularity and with more show offinery than any of the others who were there. 

Him Captain Morgan approached and demanded his papers, whereunto theother replied with such a jabber of Spanish and English that no mancould have understood what he said. To this Captain Morgan in turnreplied that he must have those papers, no matter what it might costhim to obtain them, and thereupon drew a pistol from his sling andpresented it at the other's head. 

At this threatening action the innkeeper's wife fell a-screaming, andthe Jew, as in a frenzy, besought them not to tear the house down abouthis ears. 

Our hero could hardly tell what followed, only that all of a suddenthere was a prodigious uproar of combat. Knives flashed everywhere, andthen a pistol was fired so close to his head that he stood like onestunned, hearing some one crying out in a loud voice, but not knowingwhether it was a friend or a foe who had been shot. Then anotherpistol-shot so deafened what was left of Master Harry's hearing thathis ears rang for above an hour afterwards. By this time the wholeplace was full of gunpowder smoke, and there was the sound of blows andoaths and outcrying and the clashing of knives. 

As Master Harry, who had no great stomach for such a combat, and novery particular interest in the quarrel, was making for the door, alittle Portuguese, as withered and as nimble as an ape, came duckingunder the table and plunged at his stomach with a great long knife, which, had it effected its object, would surely have ended hisadventures then and there. 

Finding himself in such danger, Master Harry snatched up a heavy chair, and, flinging it at his enemy, who was preparing for another attack, hefairly ran for it out of the door, expecting every instant to feel thethrust of the blade betwixt his ribs. 

A considerable crowd had gathered outside, and others, hearing theuproar, were coming running to join them. With these our hero stood, trembling like a leaf, and with cold chills running up and down hisback like water at the narrow escape from the danger that hadthreatened him. 

Nor shall you think him a coward, for you must remember he was hardlysixteen years old at the time, and that this was the first affair ofthe sort he had encountered. Afterwards, as you shall learn, he showedthat he could exhibit courage enough at a pinch. 

While he stood there endeavoring to recover his composure, the whilethe tumult continued within, suddenly two men came running almosttogether out of the door, a crowd of the combatants at their heels. Thefirst of these men was Captain Sylvia; the other, who was pursuing him, was Captain Morgan. 

As the crowd about the door parted before the sudden appearing ofthese, the Spanish captain, perceiving, as he supposed, a way of escapeopened to him, darted across the street with incredible swiftnesstowards an alleyway upon the other side. Upon this, seeing his preylike to get away from him, Captain Morgan snatched a pistol out of hissling, and resting it for an instant across his arm, fired at theflying Spaniard, and that with so true an aim that, though the streetwas now full of people, the other went tumbling over and over all of aheap in the kennel, where he lay, after a twitch or two, as still as alog. 

At the sound of the shot and the fall of the man the crowd scatteredupon all sides, yelling and screaming, and the street being thus prettyclear, Captain Morgan ran across the way to where his victim lay, hissmoking pistol still in his hand, and our hero following close at hisheels. 

Our poor Harry had never before beheld a man killed thus in an instantwho a moment before had been so full of life and activity, for whenCaptain Morgan turned the body over upon its back he could perceive ata glance, little as he knew of such matters, that the man was stonedead. And, indeed, it was a dreadful sight for him who was hardly morethan a child. He stood rooted for he knew not how long, staring down atthe dead face with twitching fingers and shuddering limbs. Meantime agreat crowd was gathering about them again. 

As for Captain Morgan, he went about his work with the utmost coolnessand deliberation imaginable, unbuttoning the waistcoat and the shirt ofthe man he had murdered with fingers that neither twitched nor shook. There were a gold cross and a bunch of silver medals hung by awhip-cord about the neck of the dead man. This Captain Morgan broke awaywith a snap, reaching the jingling baubles to Harry, who took them inhis nerveless hand and fingers that he could hardly close upon whatthey held. 

The papers Captain Morgan found in a wallet in an inner breast-pocketof the Spaniard's waistcoat. These he examined one by one, and findingthem to his satisfaction, tied them up again, and slipped the walletand its contents into his own pocket. 

Then for the first time he appeared to observe Master Harry, who, indeed, must have been standing the perfect picture of horror anddismay. Whereupon, bursting out a-laughing, and slipping the pistol hehad used back into its sling again, he fetched poor Harry a great slapupon the back, bidding him be a man, for that he would see many suchsights as this. 

But, indeed, it was no laughing matter for poor Master Harry, for itwas many a day before his imagination could rid itself of the image ofthe dead Spaniard's face; and as he walked away down the street withhis companions, leaving the crowd behind them, and the dead body whereit lay for its friends to look after, his ears humming and ringing fromthe deafening noise of the pistol-shots fired in the close room, andthe sweat trickling down his face in drops, he knew not whether allthat had passed had been real, or whether it was a dream from which hemight presently awaken. 

IV

The papers Captain Morgan had thus seized upon as the fruit of themurder he had committed must have been as perfectly satisfactory to himas could be, for having paid a second visit that evening to GovernorModiford, the pirate lifted anchor the next morning and made sailtowards the Gulf of Darien. There, after cruising about in those watersfor about a fortnight without falling in with a vessel of any sort, atthe end of that time they overhauled a caravel bound from Puerto Belloto Cartagena, which vessel they took, and finding her loaded withnothing better than raw hides, scuttled and sunk her, being then abouttwenty leagues from the main of Cartagena. From the captain of thisvessel they learned that the plate fleet was then lying in the harborof Puerto Bello, not yet having set sail thence, but waiting for thechange of the winds before embarking for Spain. Besides this, which wasa good deal more to their purpose, the Spaniards told the pirates thatthe Sieur Simon, his wife, and daughter were confined aboard thevice-admiral of that fleet, and that the name of the vice-admiral was the_Santa Maria y Valladolid_. 

So soon as Captain Morgan had obtained the information he desired hedirected his course straight for the Bay of Santo Blaso, where he mightlie safely within the cape of that name without any danger of discovery(that part of the main-land being entirely uninhabited) and yet bewithin twenty or twenty-five leagues of Puerto Bello. 

Having come safely to this anchorage, he at once declared hisintentions to his companions, which were as follows:

That it was entirely impossible for them to hope to sail their vesselinto the harbor of Puerto Bello, and to attack the Spanish vice-admiralwhere he lay in the midst of the armed flota; wherefore, if anythingwas to be accomplished, it must be undertaken by some subtle designrather than by open-handed boldness. Having so prefaced what he had tosay, he now declared that it was his purpose to take one of the ship'sboats and to go in that to Puerto Bello, trusting for some opportunityto occur to aid him either in the accomplishment of his aims or in thegaining of some further information. Having thus delivered himself, heinvited any who dared to do so to volunteer for the expedition, tellingthem plainly that he would constrain no man to go against his will, forthat at best it was a desperate enterprise, possessing only therecommendation that in its achievement the few who undertook it wouldgain great renown, and perhaps a very considerable booty. 

And such was the incredible influence of this bold man over hiscompanions, and such was their confidence in his skill and cunning, that not above a dozen of all those aboard hung back from theundertaking, but nearly every man desired to be taken. 

Of these volunteers Captain Morgan chose twenty--among others ourMaster Harry--and having arranged with his lieutenant that if nothingwas heard from the expedition at the end of three days he should sailfor Jamaica to await news, he embarked upon that enterprise, which, though never heretofore published, was perhaps the boldest and the mostdesperate of all those that have since made his name so famous. Forwhat could be a more unparalleled undertaking than for a little openboat, containing but twenty men, to enter the harbor of the thirdstrongest fortress of the Spanish mainland with the intention ofcutting out the Spanish vice-admiral from the midst of a whole fleet ofpowerfully armed vessels, and how many men in all the world do yousuppose would venture such a thing?

But there is this to be said of that great buccaneer: that if heundertook enterprises so desperate as this, he yet laid his plans sowell that they never went altogether amiss. Moreover, the verydesperation of his successes was of such a nature that no man couldsuspect that he would dare to undertake such things, and accordinglyhis enemies were never prepared to guard against his attacks. Aye, hadhe but worn the King's colors and served under the rules of honest war, he might have become as great and as renowned as Admiral Blake himself!

But all that is neither here nor there; what I have to tell you now isthat Captain Morgan in this open boat with his twenty mates reached theCape of Salmedina towards the fall of day. Arriving within view of theharbor they discovered the plate fleet at anchor, with two men-of-warand an armed galley riding as a guard at the mouth of the harbor, scarce half a league distant from the other ships. Having spied thefleet in this posture, the pirates presently pulled down their sailsand rowed along the coast, feigning to be a Spanish vessel from Nombrede Dios. So hugging the shore, they came boldly within the harbor, uponthe opposite side of which you might see the fortress a considerabledistance away. 

Being now come so near to the consummation of their adventure, CaptainMorgan required every man to make an oath to stand by him to the last, whereunto our hero swore as heartily as any man aboard, although hisheart, I must needs confess, was beating at a great rate at theapproach of what was to happen. Having thus received the oaths of allhis followers, Captain Morgan commanded the surgeon of the expeditionthat, when the order was given, he, the medico, was to bore six holesin the boat, so that, it sinking under them, they might all becompelled to push forward, with no chance of retreat. And such was theascendency of this man over his followers, and such was their awe ofhim, that not one of them uttered even so much as a murmur, though whathe had commanded the surgeon to do pledged them either to victory or todeath, with no chance to choose between. Nor did the surgeon questionthe orders he had received, much less did he dream of disobeying them. 

By now it had fallen pretty dusk, whereupon, spying two fishermen in acanoe at a little distance, Captain Morgan demanded of them in Spanishwhich vessel of those at anchor in the harbor was the vice-admiral, forthat he had despatches for the captain thereof. Whereupon thefishermen, suspecting nothing, pointed to them a galleon of great sizeriding at anchor not half a league distant. 

Towards this vessel accordingly the pirates directed their course, andwhen they had come pretty nigh, Captain Morgan called upon the surgeonthat now it was time for him to perform the duty that had been laidupon him. Whereupon the other did as he was ordered, and that sothoroughly that the water presently came gushing into the boat in greatstreams, whereat all hands pulled for the galleon as though every nextmoment was to be their last. 

And what do you suppose were our hero's emotions at this time? Like allin the boat, his awe of Captain Morgan was so great that I do believehe would rather have gone to the bottom than have questioned hiscommand, even when it was to scuttle the boat. Nevertheless, when hefelt the cold water gushing about his feet (for he had taken off hisshoes and stockings) he became possessed with such a fear of beingdrowned that even the Spanish galleon had no terrors for him if hecould only feel the solid planks thereof beneath his feet. 

Indeed, all the crew appeared to be possessed of a like dismay, forthey pulled at the oars with such an incredible force that they wereunder the quarter of the galleon before the boat was half filled withwater. 

Here, as they approached, it then being pretty dark and the moon notyet having risen, the watch upon the deck hailed them, whereuponCaptain Morgan called out in Spanish that he was Captain AlvarezMendazo, and that he brought despatches for the vice-admiral. 

But at that moment, the boat being now so full of water as to belogged, it suddenly tilted upon one side as though to sink beneaththem, whereupon all hands, without further orders, went scrambling upthe side, as nimble as so many monkeys, each armed with a pistol in onehand and a cutlass in the other, and so were upon deck before the watchcould collect his wits to utter any outcry or to give any other alarmthan to cry out, "Jesu bless us! who are these?" at which wordssomebody knocked him down with the butt of a pistol, though who it wasour hero could not tell in the darkness and the hurry. 

Before any of those upon deck could recover from their alarm or thosefrom below come up upon deck, a part of the pirates, under thecarpenter and the surgeon, had run to the gunroom and had takenpossession of the arms, while Captain Morgan, with Master Harry and aPortuguese called Murillo Braziliano, had flown with the speed of thewind into the great cabin. 

Here they found the captain of the vice-admiral playing at cards withthe Sieur Simon and a friend, Madam Simon and her daughter beingpresent. 

Captain Morgan instantly set his pistol at the breast of the Spanishcaptain, swearing with a most horrible fierce countenance that if hespake a word or made any outcry he was a dead man. As for our hero, having now got his hand into the game, he performed the same servicefor the Spaniard's friend, declaring he would shoot him dead if heopened his lips or lifted so much as a single finger. 

All this while the ladies, not comprehending what had occurred, had satas mute as stones; but now having so far recovered themselves as tofind a voice, the younger of the two fell to screaming, at which theSieur Simon called out to her to be still, for these were friends whohad come to help them, and not enemies who had come to harm them. 

All this, you are to understand, occupied only a little while, for inless than a minute three or four of the pirates had come into thecabin, who, together with the Portuguese, proceeded at once to bind thetwo Spaniards hand and foot, and to gag them. This being done to ourbuccaneer's satisfaction, and the Spanish captain being stretched outin the corner of the cabin, he instantly cleared his countenance of itsterrors, and bursting forth into a great loud laugh, clapped his handto the Sieur Simon's, which he wrung with the best will in the world. Having done this, and being in a fine humor after this his firstsuccess, he turned to the two ladies. "And this, ladies, " said he, taking our hero by the hand and presenting him, "is a young gentlemanwho has embarked with me to learn the trade of piracy. I recommend himto your politeness. "

Think what a confusion this threw our Master Harry into, to be sure, who at his best was never easy in the company of strange ladies! Youmay suppose what must have been his emotions to find himself thusintroduced to the attention of Madam Simon and her daughter, being atthe time in his bare feet, clad only in his shirt and breeches, andwith no hat upon his head, a pistol in one hand and a cutlass in theother. However, he was not left for long to his embarrassments, foralmost immediately after he had thus far relaxed, Captain Morgan fellof a sudden serious again, and bidding the Sieur Simon to get hisladies away into some place of safety, for the most hazardous part ofthis adventure was yet to occur, he quitted the cabin with Master Harryand the other pirates (for you may call him a pirate now) at his heels. 

Having come upon deck, our hero beheld that a part of the Spanish crewwere huddled forward in a flock like so many sheep (the others beingcrowded below with the hatches fastened upon them), and such was theterror of the pirates, and so dreadful the name of Henry Morgan, thatnot one of those poor wretches dared to lift up his voice to give anyalarm, nor even to attempt an escape by jumping overboard. 

At Captain Morgan's orders, these men, together with certain of his owncompany, ran nimbly aloft and began setting the sails, which, the nightnow having fallen pretty thick, was not for a good while observed byany of the vessels riding at anchor about them. 

Indeed, the pirates might have made good their escape, with at mostonly a shot or two from the men-of-war, had it not then been about thefull of the moon, which, having arisen, presently discovered to thoseof the fleet that lay closest about them what was being done aboard thevice-admiral. 

At this one of the vessels hailed them, and then after a while, havingno reply, hailed them again. Even then the Spaniards might notimmediately have suspected anything was amiss but only that thevice-admiral for some reason best known to himself was shifting hisanchorage, had not one of the Spaniards aloft--but who it was CaptainMorgan was never able to discover--answered the hail by crying out thatthe vice-admiral had been seized by the pirates. 

At this the alarm was instantly given and the mischief done, forpresently there was a tremendous bustle through that part of the fleetlying nighest the vice-admiral--a deal of shouting of orders, a beatingof drums, and the running hither and thither of the crews. 

But by this time the sails of the vice-admiral had filled with a strongland breeze that was blowing up the harbor, whereupon the carpenter, atCaptain Morgan's orders, having cut away both anchors, the galleonpresently bore away up the harbor, gathering headway every moment withthe wind nearly dead astern. The nearest vessel was the only one thatfor the moment was able to offer any hinderance. This ship, having bythis time cleared away one of its guns, was able to fire a parting shotagainst the vice-admiral, striking her somewhere forward, as our herocould see by a great shower of splinters that flew up in the moonlight. 

At the sound of the shot all the vessels of the flota not yet disturbedby the alarm were aroused at once, so that the pirates had thesatisfaction of knowing that they would have to run the gantlet of allthe ships between them and the open sea before they could reckonthemselves escaped. 

And, indeed, to our hero's mind it seemed that the battle whichfollowed must have been the most terrific cannonade that was ever heardin the world. It was not so ill at first, for it was some while beforethe Spaniards could get their guns clear for action, they being not theleast in the world prepared for such an occasion as this. But by-and-byfirst one and then another ship opened fire upon the galleon, until itseemed to our hero that all the thunders of heaven let loose upon themcould not have created a more prodigious uproar, and that it was notpossible that they could any of them escape destruction. 

By now the moon had risen full and round, so that the clouds of smokethat rose in the air appeared as white as snow. The air seemed full ofthe hiss and screaming of shot, each one of which, when it struck thegalleon, was magnified by our hero's imagination into ten times itsmagnitude from the crash which it delivered and from the cloud ofsplinters it would cast up into the moonlight. At last he suddenlybeheld one poor man knocked sprawling across the deck, who, as heraised his arm from behind the mast, disclosed that the hand was gonefrom it, and that the shirt-sleeve was red with blood in the moonlight. At this sight all the strength fell away from poor Harry, and he feltsure that a like fate or even a worse must be in store for him. 

But, after all, this was nothing to what it might have been in broaddaylight, for what with the darkness of night, and the littlepreparation the Spaniards could make for such a business, and theextreme haste with which they discharged their guns (many notunderstanding what was the occasion of all this uproar), nearly all theshot flew so wide of the mark that not above one in twenty struck thatat which it was aimed. 

Meantime Captain Morgan, with the Sieur Simon, who had followed himupon deck, stood just above where our hero lay behind the shelter ofthe bulwark. The captain had lit a pipe of tobacco, and he stood now inthe bright moonlight close to the rail, with his hands behind him, looking out ahead with the utmost coolness imaginable, and paying nomore attention to the din of battle than though it were twenty leaguesaway. Now and then he would take his pipe from his lips to utter anorder to the man at the wheel. Excepting this he stood there hardlymoving at all, the wind blowing his long red hair over his shoulders. 

Had it not been for the armed galley the pirates might have got thegalleon away with no great harm done in spite of all this cannonading, for the man-of-war which rode at anchor nighest to them at the mouth ofthe harbor was still so far away that they might have passed it byhugging pretty close to the shore, and that without any great harmbeing done to them in the darkness. But just at this moment, when theopen water lay in sight, came this galley pulling out from behind thepoint of the shore in such a manner as either to head our pirates offentirely or else to compel them to approach so near to the man-of-warthat that latter vessel could bring its guns to bear with more effect. 

This galley, I must tell you, was like others of its kind such as youmay find in these waters, the hull being long and cut low to the waterso as to allow the oars to dip freely. The bow was sharp and projectedfar out ahead, mounting a swivel upon it, while at the stern a numberof galleries built one above another into a castle gave shelter toseveral companies of musketeers as well as the officers commandingthem. 

Our hero could behold the approach of this galley from above thestarboard bulwarks, and it appeared to him impossible for them to hopeto escape either it or the man-of-war. But still Captain Morganmaintained the same composure that he had exhibited all the while, onlynow and then delivering an order to the man at the wheel, who, puttingthe helm over, threw the bows of the galleon around more to thelarboard, as though to escape the bow of the galley and get into theopen water beyond. This course brought the pirates ever closer andcloser to the man-of-war, which now began to add its thunder to the dinof the battle, and with so much more effect that at every discharge youmight hear the crashing and crackling of splintered wood, and now andthen the outcry or groaning of some man who was hurt. Indeed, had itbeen daylight, they must at this juncture all have perished, though, aswas said, what with the night and the confusion and the hurry, theyescaped entire destruction, though more by a miracle than through anypolicy upon their own part. 

Meantime the galley, steering as though to come aboard of them, had nowcome so near that it, too, presently began to open its musketry fireupon them, so that the humming and rattling of bullets were presentlyadded to the din of cannonading. 

In two minutes more it would have been aboard of them, when in a momentCaptain Morgan roared out of a sudden to the man at the helm to put ithard a starboard. In response the man ran the wheel over with theutmost quickness, and the galleon, obeying her helm very readily, camearound upon a course which, if continued, would certainly bring theminto collision with their enemy. 

It is possible at first the Spaniards imagined the pirates intended toescape past their stern, for they instantly began backing oars to keepthem from getting past, so that the water was all of a foam about them;at the same time they did this they poured in such a fire of musketrythat it was a miracle that no more execution was accomplished thanhappened. 

As for our hero, methinks for the moment he forgot all about everythingelse than as to whether or no his captain's manoeuvre would succeed, for in the very first moment he divined, as by some instinct, whatCaptain Morgan purposed doing. 

At this moment, so particular in the execution of this nice design, abullet suddenly struck down the man at the wheel. Hearing the sharpoutcry, our Harry turned to see him fall forward, and then to his handsand knees upon the deck, the blood running in a black pool beneath him, while the wheel, escaping from his hands, spun over until the spokeswere all of a mist. 

In a moment the ship would have fallen off before the wind had not ourhero, leaping to the wheel (even as Captain Morgan shouted an order forsome one to do so), seized the flying spokes, whirling them back again, and so bringing the bow of the galleon up to its former course. 

[Illustration: "OUR HERO, LEAPING TO THE WHEEL, SEIZED THE FLYINGSPOKES"]

In the first moment of this effort he had reckoned of nothing but ofcarrying out his captain's designs. He neither thought of cannon-ballsnor of bullets. But now that his task was accomplished, he camesuddenly back to himself to find the galleries of the galleon aflamewith musket-shots, and to become aware with a most horrible sinking ofthe spirits that all the shots therefrom were intended for him. He casthis eyes about him with despair, but no one came to ease him of histask, which, having undertaken, he had too much spirit to resign fromcarrying through to the end, though he was well aware that the verynext instant might mean his sudden and violent death. His ears hummedand rang, and his brain swam as light as a feather. I know not whetherhe breathed, but he shut his eyes tight as though that might save himfrom the bullets that were raining about him. 

At this moment the Spaniards must have discovered for the first timethe pirates' design, for of a sudden they ceased firing, and began toshout out a multitude of orders, while the oars lashed the water allabout with a foam. But it was too late then for them to escape, forwithin a couple of seconds the galleon struck her enemy a blow soviolent upon the larboard quarter as nearly to hurl our Harry upon thedeck, and then with a dreadful, horrible crackling of wood, commingledwith a yelling of men's voices, the galley was swung around upon herside, and the galleon, sailing into the open sea, left nothing of herimmediate enemy but a sinking wreck, and the water dotted all over withbobbing heads and waving hands in the moonlight. 

And now, indeed, that all danger was past and gone, there were plentyto come running to help our hero at the wheel. As for Captain Morgan, having come down upon the main-deck, he fetches the young helmsman aclap upon the back. "Well, Master Harry, " says he, "and did I not tellyou I would make a man of you?" Whereat our poor Harry fell a-laughing, but with a sad catch in his voice, for his hands trembled as with anague, and were as cold as ice. As for his emotions, God knows he wasnearer crying than laughing, if Captain Morgan had but known it. 

Nevertheless, though undertaken under the spur of the moment, I protestit was indeed a brave deed, and I cannot but wonder how many younggentlemen of sixteen there are to-day who, upon a like occasion, wouldact as well as our Harry. 

V

The balance of our hero's adventures were of a lighter sort than thosealready recounted, for the next morning, the Spanish captain (a verypolite and well-bred gentleman) having fitted him out with a suit ofhis own clothes, Master Harry was presented in a proper form to theladies. For Captain Morgan, if he had felt a liking for the young manbefore, could not now show sufficient regard for him. He ate in thegreat cabin and was petted by all. Madam Simon, who was a fat andred-faced lady, was forever praising him, and the young miss, who wasextremely well-looking, was as continually making eyes at him. 

She and Master Harry, I must tell you, would spend hours together, shemaking pretence of teaching him French, although he was so possessedwith a passion of love that he was nigh suffocated with it. She, uponher part, perceiving his emotions, responded with extreme good-natureand complacency, so that had our hero been older, and the voyage provedlonger, he might have become entirely enmeshed in the toils of his fairsiren. For all this while, you are to understand, the pirates weremaking sail straight for Jamaica, which they reached upon the third dayin perfect safety. 

[Illustration: "SHE AND MASTER HARRY WOULD SPEND HOURS TOGETHER"]

In that time, however, the pirates had well-nigh gone crazy for joy;for when they came to examine their purchase they discovered her cargoto consist of plate to the prodigious sum of £130, 000 in value. 'Twas awonder they did not all make themselves drunk for joy. No doubt theywould have done so had not Captain Morgan, knowing they were still inthe exact track of the Spanish fleets, threatened them that the firstman among them who touched a drop of rum without his permission hewould shoot him dead upon the deck. This threat had such effect thatthey all remained entirely sober until they had reached Port RoyalHarbor, which they did about nine o'clock in the morning. 

And now it was that our hero's romance came all tumbling down about hisears with a run. For they had hardly come to anchor in the harbor whena boat came from a man-of-war, and who should come stepping aboard butLieutenant Grantley (a particular friend of our hero's father) and hisown eldest brother Thomas, who, putting on a very stern face, informedMaster Harry that he was a desperate and hardened villain who was sureto end at the gallows, and that he was to go immediately back to hishome again. He told our embryo pirate that his family had nigh gonedistracted because of his wicked and ungrateful conduct. Nor could ourhero move him from his inflexible purpose. "What, " says our Harry, "andwill you not then let me wait until our prize is divided and I get myshare?"

"Prize, indeed!" says his brother. "And do you then really think thatyour father would consent to your having a share in this terriblebloody and murthering business?"

And so, after a good deal of argument, our hero was constrained to go;nor did he even have an opportunity to bid adieu to his inamorata. Nordid he see her any more, except from a distance, she standing on thepoop-deck as he was rowed away from her, her face all stained withcrying. For himself, he felt that there was no more joy in life;nevertheless, standing up in the stern of the boat, he made shift, though with an aching heart, to deliver her a fine bow with the hat hehad borrowed from the Spanish captain, before his brother bade him sitdown again. 

And so to the ending of this story, with only this to relate, that ourMaster Harry, so far from going to the gallows, became in good time arespectable and wealthy sugar merchant with an English wife and a finefamily of children, whereunto, when the mood was upon him, he hassometimes told these adventures (and sundry others not here recounted)as I have told them unto you. 

II. TOM CHIST AND THE TREASURE-BOX

_An Old-time Story of the Days of Captain Kidd. _

To tell about Tom Chist, and how he got his name, and how he came to beliving at the little settlement of Henlopen, just inside the mouth ofthe Delaware Bay, the story must begin as far back as 1686, when agreat storm swept the Atlantic coast from end to end. During theheaviest part of the hurricane a bark went ashore on theHen-and-Chicken Shoals, just below Cape Henlopen and at the mouth of theDelaware Bay, and Tom Chist was the only soul of all those on board theill-fated vessel who escaped alive. 

This story must first be told, because it was on account of the strangeand miraculous escape that happened to him at that time that he gainedthe name that was given to him. 

Even as late as that time of the American colonies, the littlescattered settlement at Henlopen, made up of English, with a few Dutchand Swedish people, was still only a spot upon the face of the greatAmerican wilderness that spread away, with swamp and forest, no manknew how far to the westward. That wilderness was not only full of wildbeasts, but of Indian savages, who every fall would come in wanderingtribes to spend the winter along the shores of the fresh-water lakesbelow Henlopen. There for four or five months they would live upon fishand clams and wild ducks and geese, chipping their arrow-heads, andmaking their earthenware pots and pans under the lee of the sand-hillsand pine woods below the Capes. 

Sometimes on Sundays, when the Rev. Hillary Jones would be preaching inthe little log church back in the woods, these half-clad red savageswould come in from the cold, and sit squatting in the back part of thechurch, listening stolidly to the words that had no meaning for them. 

But about the wreck of the bark in 1686. Such a wreck as that whichthen went ashore on the Hen-and-Chicken Shoals was a godsend to thepoor and needy settlers in the wilderness where so few good things evercame. For the vessel went to pieces during the night, and the nextmorning the beach was strewn with wreckage--boxes and barrels, chestsand spars, timbers and planks, a plentiful and bountiful harvest to begathered up by the settlers as they chose, with no one to forbid orprevent them. 

The name of the bark, as found painted on some of the water-barrels andsea-chests, was the _Bristol Merchant_, and she no doubt hailed fromEngland. 

As was said, the only soul who escaped alive off the wreck was TomChist. 

A settler, a fisherman named Matt Abrahamson, and his daughter Molly, found Tom. He was washed up on the beach among the wreckage, in a greatwooden box which had been securely tied around with a rope and lashedbetween two spars--apparently for better protection in beating throughthe surf. Matt Abrahamson thought he had found something of more thanusual value when he came upon this chest; but when he cut the cords andbroke open the box with his broadaxe, he could not have been moreastonished had he beheld a salamander instead of a baby of nine or tenmonths old lying half smothered in the blankets that covered the bottomof the chest. 

Matt Abrahamson's daughter Molly had had a baby who had died a month orso before. So when she saw the little one lying there in the bottom ofthe chest, she cried out in a great loud voice that the Good Man hadsent her another baby in place of her own. 

The rain was driving before the hurricane-storm in dim, slantingsheets, and so she wrapped up the baby in the man's coat she wore andran off home without waiting to gather up any more of the wreckage. 

It was Parson Jones who gave the foundling his name. When the news cameto his ears of what Matt Abrahamson had found, he went over to thefisherman's cabin to see the child. He examined the clothes in whichthe baby was dressed. They were of fine linen and handsomely stitched, and the reverend gentleman opined that the foundling's parents musthave been of quality. A kerchief had been wrapped around the baby'sneck and under its arms and tied behind, and in the corner, marked withvery fine needlework, were the initials T. C. 

"What d'ye call him, Molly?" said Parson Jones. He was standing, as hespoke, with his back to the fire, warming his palms before the blaze. The pocket of the great-coat he wore bulged out with a big case-bottleof spirits which he had gathered up out of the wreck that afternoon. "What d'ye call him, Molly?"

"I'll call him Tom, after my own baby. "

"That goes very well with the initial on the kerchief, " said ParsonJones. "But what other name d'ye give him? Let it be something to gowith the C. "

"I don't know, " said Molly. 

"Why not call him 'Chist, ' since he was born in a chist out of the sea?'Tom Chist'--the name goes off like a flash in the pan. " And so "TomChist" he was called and "Tom Chist" he was christened. 

So much for the beginning of the history of Tom Chist. The story ofCaptain Kidd's treasure-box does not begin until the late spring of1699. 

That was the year that the famous pirate captain, coming up from theWest Indies, sailed his sloop into the Delaware Bay, where he lay forover a month waiting for news from his friends in New York. 

For he had sent word to that town asking if the coast was clear for himto return home with the rich prize he had brought from the Indian seasand the coast of Africa, and meantime he lay there in the Delaware Baywaiting for a reply. Before he left he turned the whole of Tom Chist'slife topsy-turvy with something that he brought ashore. 

By that time Tom Chist had grown into a strong-limbed, thick-jointedboy of fourteen or fifteen years of age. It was a miserable dog's lifehe lived with old Matt Abrahamson, for the old fisherman was in hiscups more than half the time, and when he was so there was hardly a daypassed that he did not give Tom a curse or a buffet or, as like as not, an actual beating. One would have thought that such treatment wouldhave broken the spirit of the poor little foundling, but it had justthe opposite effect upon Tom Chist, who was one of your stubborn, sturdy, stiff-willed fellows who only grow harder and more tough themore they are ill-treated. It had been a long time now since he hadmade any outcry or complaint at the hard usage he suffered from oldMatt. At such times he would shut his teeth and bear whatever came tohim, until sometimes the half-drunken old man would be driven almostmad by his stubborn silence. Maybe he would stop in the midst of thebeating he was administering, and, grinding his teeth, would cry out:"Won't ye say naught? Won't ye say naught? Well, then, I'll see if Ican't make ye say naught. " When things had reached such a pass as thisMolly would generally interfere to protect her foster-son, and then sheand Tom would together fight the old man until they had wrenched thestick or the strap out of his hand. Then old Matt would chase themout-of-doors and around and around the house for maybe half an hour untilhis anger was cool, when he would go back again, and for a time thestorm would be over. 

Besides his foster-mother, Tom Chist had a very good friend in ParsonJones, who used to come over every now and then to Abrahamson's hutupon the chance of getting a half-dozen fish for breakfast. He alwayshad a kind word or two for Tom, who during the winter evenings would goover to the good man's house to learn his letters, and to read andwrite and cipher a little, so that by now he was able to spell thewords out of the Bible and the almanac, and knew enough to changetuppence into four ha'pennies. 

This is the sort of boy Tom Chist was, and this is the sort of life heled. 

In the late spring or early summer of 1699 Captain Kidd's sloop sailedinto the mouth of the Delaware Bay and changed the whole fortune of hislife. 

And this is how you come to the story of Captain Kidd's treasure-box. 

II

Old Matt Abrahamson kept the flat-bottomed boat in which he wentfishing some distance down the shore, and in the neighborhood of theold wreck that had been sunk on the Shoals. This was the usualfishing-ground of the settlers, and here Old Matt's boat generally laydrawn up on the sand. 

There had been a thunder-storm that afternoon, and Tom had gone downthe beach to bale out the boat in readiness for the morning's fishing. 

It was full moonlight now, as he was returning, and the night sky wasfull of floating clouds. Now and then there was a dull flash to thewestward, and once a muttering growl of thunder, promising anotherstorm to come. 

All that day the pirate sloop had been lying just off the shore back ofthe Capes, and now Tom Chist could see the sails glimmering pallidly inthe moonlight, spread for drying after the storm. He was walking up theshore homeward when he became aware that at some distance ahead of himthere was a ship's boat drawn up on the little narrow beach, and agroup of men clustered about it. He hurried forward with a good deal ofcuriosity to see who had landed, but it was not until he had come closeto them that he could distinguish who and what they were. Then he knewthat it must be a party who had come off the pirate sloop. They hadevidently just landed, and two men were lifting out a chest from theboat. One of them was a negro, naked to the waist, and the other was awhite man in his shirt-sleeves, wearing petticoat breeches, a Montereycap upon his head, a red bandanna handkerchief around his neck, andgold ear-rings in his ears. He had a long, plaited queue hanging downhis back, and a great sheath-knife dangling from his side. Another man, evidently the captain of the party, stood at a little distance as theylifted the chest out of the boat. He had a cane in one hand and alighted lantern in the other, although the moon was shining as brightas day. He wore jack-boots and a handsome laced coat, and he had along, drooping mustache that curled down below his chin. He wore afine, feathered hat, and his long black hair hung down upon hisshoulders. 

All this Tom Chist could see in the moonlight that glinted and twinkledupon the gilt buttons of his coat. 

They were so busy lifting the chest from the boat that at first theydid not observe that Tom Chist had come up and was standing there. Itwas the white man with the long, plaited queue and the gold ear-ringsthat spoke to him. "Boy, what do you want here, boy?" he said, in arough, hoarse voice. "Where d'ye come from?" And then dropping his endof the chest, and without giving Tom time to answer, he pointed offdown the beach, and said, "You'd better be going about your ownbusiness, if you know what's good for you; and don't you come back, oryou'll find what you don't want waiting for you. "

Tom saw in a glance that the pirates were all looking at him, and then, without saying a word, he turned and walked away. The man who hadspoken to him followed him threateningly for some little distance, asthough to see that he had gone away as he was bidden to do. Butpresently he stopped, and Tom hurried on alone, until the boat and thecrew and all were dropped away behind and lost in the moonlight night. Then he himself stopped also, turned, and looked back whence he hadcome. 

There had been something very strange in the appearance of the men hehad just seen, something very mysterious in their actions, and hewondered what it all meant, and what they were going to do. He stoodfor a little while thus looking and listening. He could see nothing, and could hear only the sound of distant talking. What were they doingon the lonely shore thus at night? Then, following a sudden impulse, heturned and cut off across the sand-hummocks, skirting around inland, but keeping pretty close to the shore, his object being to spy uponthem, and to watch what they were about from the back of the lowsand-hills that fronted the beach. 

He had gone along some distance in his circuitous return when he becameaware of the sound of voices that seemed to be drawing closer to him ashe came towards the speakers. He stopped and stood listening, andinstantly, as he stopped, the voices stopped also. He crouched theresilently in the bright, glimmering moonlight, surrounded by the silentstretches of sand, and the stillness seemed to press upon him like aheavy hand. Then suddenly the sound of a man's voice began again, andas Tom listened he could hear some one slowly counting. "Ninety-one, "the voice began, "ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred, onehundred and one"--the slow, monotonous count coming nearer and nearerto him--"one hundred and two, one hundred and three, one hundred andfour, " and so on in its monotonous reckoning. 

Suddenly he saw three heads appear above the sand-hill, so close to himthat he crouched down quickly with a keen thrill, close beside thehummock near which he stood. His first fear was that they might haveseen him in the moonlight; but they had not, and his heart rose againas the counting voice went steadily on. "One hundred and twenty, " itwas saying--"and twenty-one, and twenty-two, and twenty-three, andtwenty-four, " and then he who was counting came out from behind thelittle sandy rise into the white and open level of shimmeringbrightness. 

[Illustration: "'. .. AND TWENTY-ONE AND TWENTY-TWO'"]

It was the man with the cane whom Tom had seen some time before--thecaptain of the party who had landed. He carried his cane under his armnow, and was holding his lantern close to something that he held in hishand, and upon which he looked narrowly as he walked with a slow andmeasured tread in a perfectly straight line across the sand, countingeach step as he took it. "And twenty-five, and twenty-six, andtwenty-seven, and twenty-eight, and twenty-nine, and thirty. "

Behind him walked two other figures; one was the half-naked negro, theother the man with the plaited queue and the ear-rings, whom Tom hadseen lifting the chest out of the boat. Now they were carrying theheavy box between them, laboring through the sand with shuffling treadas they bore it onward. 

As he who was counting pronounced the word "thirty, " the two men setthe chest down on the sand with a grunt, the white man panting andblowing and wiping his sleeve across his forehead. And immediately hewho counted took out a slip of paper and marked something down upon it. They stood there for a long time, during which Tom lay behind thesand-hummock watching them, and for a while the silence was uninterrupted. In the perfect stillness Tom could hear the washing of the little wavesbeating upon the distant beach, and once the far-away sound of a laughfrom one of those who stood by the ship's boat. 

One, two, three minutes passed, and then the men picked up the chestand started on again; and then again the other man began his counting. "Thirty and one, and thirty and two, and thirty and three, and thirtyand four"--he walked straight across the level open, still lookingintently at that which he held in his hand--"and thirty and five, andthirty and six, and thirty and seven, " and so on, until the threefigures disappeared in the little hollow between the two sand-hills onthe opposite side of the open, and still Tom could hear the sound ofthe counting voice in the distance. 

Just as they disappeared behind the hill there was a sudden faint flashof light; and by-and-by, as Tom lay still listening to the counting, heheard, after a long interval, a far-away muffled rumble of distantthunder. He waited for a while, and then arose and stepped to the topof the sand-hummock behind which he had been lying. He looked all abouthim, but there was no one else to be seen. Then he stepped down fromthe hummock and followed in the direction which the pirate captain andthe two men carrying the chest had gone. He crept along cautiously, stopping now and then to make sure that he still heard the countingvoice, and when it ceased he lay down upon the sand and waited until itbegan again. 

Presently, so following the pirates, he saw the three figures again inthe distance, and, skirting around back of a hill of sand covered withcoarse sedge-grass, he came to where he overlooked a little open levelspace gleaming white in the moonlight. 

The three had been crossing the level of sand, and were now not morethan twenty-five paces from him. They had again set down the chest, upon which the white man with the long queue and the gold ear-rings hadseated to rest himself, the negro standing close beside him. The moonshone as bright as day and full upon his face. It was looking directlyat Tom Chist, every line as keen cut with white lights and blackshadows as though it had been carved in ivory and jet. He sat perfectlymotionless, and Tom drew back with a start, almost thinking he had beendiscovered. He lay silent, his heart beating heavily in his throat; butthere was no alarm, and presently he heard the counting begin again, and when he looked once more he saw they were going away straightacross the little open. A soft, sliding hillock of sand lay directly infront of them. They did not turn aside, but went straight over it, theleader helping himself up the sandy slope with his cane, still countingand still keeping his eyes fixed upon that which he held in his hand. Then they disappeared again behind the white crest on the other side. 

So Tom followed them cautiously until they had gone almost half a mileinland. When next he saw them clearly it was from a little sandy risewhich looked down like the crest of a bowl upon the floor of sandbelow. Upon this smooth, white floor the moon beat with almost dazzlingbrightness. 

The white man who had helped to carry the chest was now kneeling, busied at some work, though what it was Tom at first could not see. Hewas whittling the point of a stick into a long wooden peg, and when, by-and-by, he had finished what he was about, he arose and stepped towhere he who seemed to be the captain had stuck his cane upright intothe ground as though to mark some particular spot. He drew the cane outof the sand, thrusting the stick down in its stead. Then he drove thelong peg down with a wooden mallet which the negro handed to him. Thesharp rapping of the mallet upon the top of the peg sounded loud in theperfect stillness, and Tom lay watching and wondering what it allmeant. 

The man, with quick-repeated blows, drove the peg farther and fartherdown into the sand until it showed only two or three inches above thesurface. As he finished his work there was another faint flash oflight, and by-and-by another smothered rumble of thunder, and Tom as helooked out towards the westward, saw the silver rim of the round andsharply outlined thundercloud rising slowly up into the sky and pushingthe other and broken drifting clouds before it. 

The two white men were now stooping over the peg, the negro manwatching them. Then presently the man with the cane started straightaway from the peg, carrying the end of a measuring-line with him, theother end of which the man with the plaited queue held against the topof the peg. When the pirate captain had reached the end of themeasuring-line he marked a cross upon the sand, and then again theymeasured out another stretch of space. 

So they measured a distance five times over, and then, from where Tomlay, he could see the man with the queue drive another peg just at thefoot of a sloping rise of sand that swept up beyond into a tall whitedune marked sharp and clear against the night sky behind. As soon asthe man with the plaited queue had driven the second peg into theground they began measuring again, and so, still measuring, disappearedin another direction which took them in behind the sand-dune, where Tomno longer could see what they were doing. 

The negro still sat by the chest where the two had left him, and sobright was the moonlight that from where he lay Tom could see the glintof it twinkling in the whites of his eyeballs. 

Presently from behind the hill there came, for the third time, thesharp rapping sound of the mallet driving still another peg, and thenafter a while the two pirates emerged from behind the sloping whitenessinto the space of moonlight again. 

They came direct to where the chest lay, and the white man and theblack man lifting it once more, they walked away across the level ofopen sand, and so on behind the edge of the hill and out of Tom'ssight. 

III

Tom Chist could no longer see what the pirates were doing, neither didhe dare to cross over the open space of sand that now lay between themand him. He lay there speculating as to what they were about, andmeantime the storm cloud was rising higher and higher above thehorizon, with louder and louder mutterings of thunder following eachdull flash from out the cloudy, cavernous depths. In the silence hecould hear an occasional click as of some iron implement, and he opinedthat the pirates were burying the chest, though just where they were atwork he could neither see nor tell. Still he lay there watching andlistening, and by-and-by a puff of warm air blew across the sand, and athumping tumble of louder thunder leaped from out the belly of thestorm cloud, which every minute was coming nearer and nearer. Still TomChist lay watching. 

Suddenly, almost unexpectedly, the three figures reappeared from behindthe sand-hill, the pirate captain leading the way, and the negro andwhite man following close behind him. They had gone about half-wayacross the white, sandy level between the hill and the hummock behindwhich Tom Chist lay, when the white man stopped and bent over as thoughto tie his shoe. 

This brought the negro a few steps in front of his companion. 

That which then followed happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, soswiftly, that Tom Chist had hardly time to realize what it all meantbefore it was over. As the negro passed him the white man arosesuddenly and silently erect, and Tom Chist saw the white moonlightglint upon the blade of a great dirk-knife which he now held in hishand. He took one, two silent, catlike steps behind the unsuspectingnegro. Then there was a sweeping flash of the blade in the pallidlight, and a blow, the thump of which Tom could distinctly hear evenfrom where he lay stretched out upon the sand. There was an instantechoing yell from the black man, who ran stumbling forward, whostopped, who regained his footing, and then stood for an instant asthough rooted to the spot. 

Tom had distinctly seen the knife enter his back, and even thought thathe had seen the glint of the point as it came out from the breast. 

Meantime the pirate captain had stopped, and now stood with his handresting upon his cane looking impassively on. 

Then the black man started to run. The white man stood for a whileglaring after him; then he too started after his victim upon the run. The black man was not very far from Tom when he staggered and fell. Hetried to rise, then fell forward again, and lay at length. At thatinstant the first edge of the cloud cut across the moon, and there wasa sudden darkness; but in the silence Tom heard the sound of anotherblow and a groan, and then presently a voice calling to the piratecaptain that it was all over. 

He saw the dim form of the captain crossing the level sand, and then, as the moon sailed out from behind the cloud, he saw the white manstanding over a black figure that lay motionless upon the sand. 

Then Tom Chist scrambled up and ran away, plunging down into the hollowof sand that lay in the shadows below. Over the next rise he ran, anddown again into the next black hollow, and so on over the sliding, shifting ground, panting and gasping. It seemed to him that he couldhear footsteps following, and in the terror that possessed him healmost expected every instant to feel the cold knife-blade slidebetween his own ribs in such a thrust from behind as he had seen givento the poor black man. 

So he ran on like one in a nightmare. His feet grew heavy like lead, hepanted and gasped, his breath came hot and dry in his throat. But stillhe ran and ran until at last he found himself in front of old MattAbrahamson's cabin, gasping, panting, and sobbing for breath, his kneesrelaxed and his thighs trembling with weakness. 

As he opened the door and dashed into the darkened cabin (for both Mattand Molly were long ago asleep in bed) there was a flash of light, andeven as he slammed to the door behind him there was an instant peal ofthunder, heavy as though a great weight had been dropped upon the roofof the sky, so that the doors and windows of the cabin rattled. 

IV

Then Tom Chist crept to bed, trembling, shuddering, bathed in sweat, his heart beating like a trip-hammer, and his brain dizzy from thatlong, terror-inspired race through the soft sand in which he hadstriven to outstrip he knew not what pursuing horror. 

For a long, long time he lay awake, trembling and chattering withnervous chills, and when he did fall asleep it was only to drop intomonstrous dreams in which he once again saw ever enacted, with variousgrotesque variations, the tragic drama which his waking eyes had beheldthe night before. 

Then came the dawning of the broad, wet daylight, and before the risingof the sun Tom was up and out-of-doors to find the young day drippingwith the rain of overnight. 

His first act was to climb the nearest sandhill and to gaze out towardsthe offing where the pirate ship had been the day before. 

It was no longer there. 

Soon afterwards Matt Abrahamson came out of the cabin and he called toTom to go get a bite to eat, for it was time for them to be awayfishing. 

All that morning the recollection of the night before hung over TomChist like a great cloud of boding trouble. It filled the confined areaof the little boat and spread over the entire wide spaces of sky andsea that surrounded them. Not for a moment was it lifted. Even when hewas hauling in his wet and dripping line with a struggling fish at theend of it a recurrent memory of what he had seen would suddenly comeupon him, and he would groan in spirit at the recollection. He lookedat Matt Abrahamson's leathery face, at his lantern jaws cavernously andstolidly chewing at a tobacco leaf, and it seemed monstrous to him thatthe old man should be so unconscious of the black cloud that wrappedthem all about. 

When the boat reached the shore again he leaped scrambling to thebeach, and as soon as his dinner was eaten he hurried away to find theDominie Jones. 

He ran all the way from Abrahamson's hut to the Parson's house, hardlystopping once, and when he knocked at the door he was panting andsobbing for breath. 

The good man was sitting on the back-kitchen door-step smoking his longpipe of tobacco out into the sunlight, while his wife within wasrattling about among the pans and dishes in preparation of theirsupper, of which a strong, porky smell already filled the air. 

Then Tom Chist told his story, panting, hurrying, tumbling one wordover another in his haste, and Parson Jones listened, breaking everynow and then into an ejaculation of wonder. The light in his pipe wentout and the bowl turned cold. 

"And I don't see why they should have killed the poor black man, " saidTom, as he finished his narrative. 

"Why, that is very easy enough to understand, " said the good reverendman. "'Twas a treasure-box they buried!"

In his agitation Mr. Jones had risen from his seat and was now stumpingup and down, puffing at his empty tobacco-pipe as though it were stillalight. 

"A treasure-box!" cried out Tom. 

"Aye, a treasure-box! And that was why they killed the poor black man. He was the only one, d'ye see, besides they two who knew the placewhere 'twas hid, and now that they've killed him out of the way, there's nobody but themselves knows. The villains--Tut, tut, look atthat now!" In his excitement the dominie had snapped the stem of histobacco-pipe in two. 

"Why, then, " said Tom, "if that is so, 'tis indeed a wicked, bloodytreasure, and fit to bring a curse upon anybody who finds it!"

"'Tis more like to bring a curse upon the soul who buried it, " saidParson Jones, "and it may be a blessing to him who finds it. But tellme, Tom, do you think you could find the place again where 'twas hid?"

"I can't tell that, " said Tom, "'twas all in among the sand-humps, d'yesee, and it was at night into the bargain. Maybe we could find themarks of their feet in the sand, " he added. 

"'Tis not likely, " said the reverend gentleman, "for the storm lastnight would have washed all that away. "

"I could find the place, " said Tom, "where the boat was drawn up on thebeach. "

"Why, then, that's something to start from, Tom, " said his friend. "Ifwe can find that, then maybe we can find whither they went from there. "

"If I was certain it was a treasure-box, " cried out Tom Chist, "I wouldrake over every foot of sand betwixt here and Henlopen to find it. "

"'Twould be like hunting for a pin in a haystack, " said the Rev. HilaryJones. 

As Tom walked away home, it seemed as though a ton's weight of gloomhad been rolled away from his soul. The next day he and Parson Joneswere to go treasure-hunting together; it seemed to Tom as though hecould hardly wait for the time to come. 

V

The next afternoon Parson Jones and Tom Chist started off together uponthe expedition that made Tom's fortune forever. Tom carried a spadeover his shoulder and the reverend gentleman walked along beside himwith his cane. 

As they jogged along up the beach they talked together about the onlything they could talk about--the treasure-box. "And how big did you say'twas?" quoth the good gentleman. 

"About so long, " said Tom Chist, measuring off upon the spade, "andabout so wide, and this deep. "

"And what if it should be full of money, Tom?" said the reverendgentleman, swinging his cane around and around in wide circles in theexcitement of the thought, as he strode along briskly. "Suppose itshould be full of money, what then?"

"By Moses!" said Tom Chist, hurrying to keep up with his friend, "I'dbuy a ship for myself, I would, and I'd trade to Injy and to Chiny tomy own boot, I would. Suppose the chist was all full of money, sir, andsuppose we should find it; would there be enough in it, d'ye suppose, to buy a ship?"

"To be sure there would be enough, Tom; enough and to spare, and a goodbig lump over. "

"And if I find it 'tis mine to keep, is it, and no mistake?"

"Why, to be sure it would be yours!" cried out the Parson, in a loudvoice. "To be sure it would be yours!" He knew nothing of the law, butthe doubt of the question began at once to ferment in his brain, and hestrode along in silence for a while. "Whose else would it be but yoursif you find it?" he burst out. "Can you tell me that?"

"If ever I have a ship of my own, " said Tom Chist, "and if ever I sailto Injy in her, I'll fetch ye back the best chist of tea, sir, thatever was fetched from Cochin Chiny. "

Parson Jones burst out laughing. "Thankee, Tom, " he said; "and I'llthankee again when I get my chist of tea. But tell me, Tom, didst thouever hear of the farmer girl who counted her chickens before they werehatched?"

It was thus they talked as they hurried along up the beach together, and so came to a place at last where Tom stopped short and stoodlooking about him. "'Twas just here, " he said, "I saw the boat lastnight. I know 'twas here, for I mind me of that bit of wreck yonder, and that there was a tall stake drove in the sand just where yon stakestands. "

Parson Jones put on his barnacles and went over to the stake towardswhich Tom pointed. As soon as he had looked at it carefully, he calledout: "Why, Tom, this hath been just drove down into the sand. 'Tis abrand-new stake of wood, and the pirates must have set it herethemselves as a mark, just as they drove the pegs you spoke about downinto the sand. "

Tom came over and looked at the stake. It was a stout piece of oaknearly two inches thick; it had been shaped with some care, and the topof it had been painted red. He shook the stake and tried to move it, but it had been driven or planted so deeply into the sand that he couldnot stir it. "Aye, sir, " he said, "it must have been set here for amark, for I'm sure 'twas not here yesterday or the day before. " Hestood looking about him to see if there were other signs of thepirates' presence. At some little distance there was the corner ofsomething white sticking up out of the sand. He could see that it was ascrap of paper, and he pointed to it, calling out: "Yonder is a pieceof paper, sir. I wonder if they left that behind them?"

It was a miraculous chance that placed that paper there. There was onlyan inch of it showing, and if it had not been for Tom's sharp eyes, itwould certainly have been overlooked and passed by. The next wind-stormwould have covered it up, and all that afterwards happened never wouldhave occurred. "Look sir, " he said, as he struck the sand from it, "ithath writing on it. "

"Let me see it, " said Parson Jones. He adjusted the spectacles a littlemore firmly astride of his nose as he took the paper in his hand andbegan conning it. "What's all this?" he said; "a whole lot of figuresand nothing else. " And then he read aloud, "'Mark--S. S. W. By S. ' Whatd'ye suppose that means, Tom?"

"I don't know, sir, " said Tom. "But maybe we can understand it betterif you read on. "

"Tis all a great lot of figures, " said Parson Jones, "without a grainof meaning in them so far as I can see, unless they be sailingdirections. " And then he began reading again: "'Mark--S. S. W. By S. 40, 72, 91, 130, 151, 177, 202, 232, 256, 271'--d'ye see, it must besailing directions--'299, 335, 362, 386, 415, 446, 469, 491, 522, 544, 571, 598'--what a lot of them there be--'626, 652, 676, 695, 724, 851, 876, 905, 940, 967. Peg. S. E. By E. 269 foot. Peg. S. S. W. By S. 427foot. Peg. Dig to the west of this six foot. '"

"What's that about a peg?" exclaimed Tom. "What's that about a peg? Andthen there's something about digging, too!" It was as though a suddenlight began shining into his brain. He felt himself growing quicklyvery excited. "Read that over again, sir, " he cried. "Why, sir, youremember I told you they drove a peg into the sand. And don't they sayto dig close to it? Read it over again, sir--read it over again!"

"Peg?" said the good gentleman. "To be sure it was about a peg. Let'slook again. Yes, here it is. 'Peg S. E. By E. 269 foot. '"

"Aye!" cried out Tom Chist again, in great excitement. "Don't youremember what I told you, sir, 269 foot? Sure that must be what I saw'em measuring with the line. " Parson Jones had now caught the flame ofexcitement that was blazing up so strongly in Tom's breast. He felt asthough some wonderful thing was about to happen to them. "To be sure, to be sure!" he called out, in a great big voice. "And then theymeasured out 427 foot south-southwest by south, and then they droveanother peg, and then they buried the box six foot to the west of it. Why, Tom--why, Tom Chist! if we've read this aright, thy fortune ismade. "

Tom Chist stood staring straight at the old gentleman's excited face, and seeing nothing but it in all the bright infinity of sunshine. Werethey, indeed, about to find the treasure-chest? He felt the sun veryhot upon his shoulders, and he heard the harsh, insistent jarring of atern that hovered and circled with forked tail and sharp white wings inthe sunlight just above their heads; but all the time he stood staringinto the good old gentleman's face. 

It was Parson Jones who first spoke. "But what do all these figuresmean?" And Tom observed how the paper shook and rustled in the tremorof excitement that shook his hand. He raised the paper to the focus ofhis spectacles and began to read again. "'Mark 40, 72, 91--'"

"Mark?" cried out Tom, almost screaming. "Why, that must mean the stakeyonder; that must be the mark. " And he pointed to the oaken stick withits red tip blazing against the white shimmer of sand behind it. 

"And the 40 and 72 and 91, " cried the old gentleman, in a voice equallyshrill--"why, that must mean the number of steps the pirate wascounting when you heard him. "

"To be sure that's what they mean!" cried Tom Chist. "That is it, andit can be nothing else. Oh, come, sir--come, sir; let us make haste andfind it!"

"Stay! stay!" said the good gentleman, holding up his hand; and againTom Chist noticed how it trembled and shook. His voice was steadyenough, though very hoarse, but his hand shook and trembled as thoughwith a palsy. "Stay! stay! First of all, we must follow thesemeasurements. And 'tis a marvellous thing, " he croaked, after a littlepause, "how this paper ever came to be here. "

"Maybe it was blown here by the storm, " suggested Tom Chist. 

"Like enough; like enough, " said Parson Jones. "Like enough, after thewretches had buried the chest and killed the poor black man, they wereso buffeted and bowsed about by the storm that it was shook out of theman's pocket, and thus blew away from him without his knowing aught ofit. "

"But let us find the box!" cried out Tom Chist, flaming with hisexcitement. 

"Aye, aye, " said the good man; "only stay a little, my boy, until wemake sure what we're about. I've got my pocket-compass here, but wemust have something to measure off the feet when we have found the peg. You run across to Tom Brooke's house and fetch that measuring-rod heused to lay out his new byre. While you're gone I'll pace off thedistance marked on the paper with my pocket-compass here. "

VI

Tom Chist was gone for almost an hour, though he ran nearly all the wayand back, upborne as on the wings of the wind. When he returned, panting, Parson Jones was nowhere to be seen, but Tom saw his footstepsleading away inland, and he followed the scuffling marks in the smoothsurface across the sand-humps and down into the hollows, and by-and-byfound the good gentleman in a spot he at once knew as soon as he laidhis eyes upon it. 

It was the open space where the pirates had driven their first peg, andwhere Tom Chist had afterwards seen them kill the poor black man. TomChist gazed around as though expecting to see some sign of the tragedy, but the space was as smooth and as undisturbed as a floor, exceptingwhere, midway across it, Parson Jones who was now stooping oversomething on the ground, had trampled it all around about. 

When Tom Chist saw him, he was still bending over, scraping the sandaway from something he had found. 

It was the first peg!

Inside of half an hour they had found the second and third pegs, andTom Chist stripped off his coat, and began digging like mad down intothe sand, Parson Jones standing over him watching him. The sun wassloping well towards the west when the blade of Tom Chist's spadestruck upon something hard. 

If it had been his own heart that he had hit in the sand his breastcould hardly have thrilled more sharply. 

It was the treasure-box!

Parson Jones himself leaped down into the hole, and began scraping awaythe sand with his hands as though he had gone crazy. At last, with somedifficulty, they tugged and hauled the chest up out of the sand to thesurface, where it lay covered all over with the grit that clung to it. 

It was securely locked and fastened with a padlock, and it took a goodmany blows with the blade of the spade to burst the bolt. Parson Joneshimself lifted the lid. 

Tom Chist leaned forward and gazed down into the open box. He would nothave been surprised to have seen it filled full of yellow gold andbright jewels. It was filled half full of books and papers, and halffull of canvas bags tied safely and securely around and around withcords of string. 

Parson Jones lifted out one of the bags, and it jingled as he did so. It was full of money. 

He cut the string, and with trembling, shaking hands handed the bag toTom, who, in an ecstasy of wonder and dizzy with delight, poured outwith swimming sight upon the coat spread on the ground a cataract ofshining silver money that rang and twinkled and jingled as it fell in ashining heap upon the coarse cloth. 

Parson Jones held up both hands into the air, and Tom stared at what hesaw, wondering whether it was all so, and whether he was really awake. It seemed to him as though he was in a dream. 

There were two-and-twenty bags in all in the chest: ten of them full ofsilver money, eight of them full of gold money, three of them full ofgold-dust, and one small bag with jewels wrapped up in wad cotton andpaper. 

[Illustration: "'TIS ENOUGH, ' CRIED OUT PARSON JONES, 'TO MAKE US BOTHRICH MEN'"]

"'Tis enough, " cried out Parson Jones, "to make us both rich men aslong as we live. "

The burning summer sun, though sloping in the sky, beat down upon themas hot as fire; but neither of them noticed it. Neither did they noticehunger nor thirst nor fatigue, but sat there as though in a trance, with the bags of money scattered on the sand around them, a great pileof money heaped upon the coat, and the open chest beside them. It wasan hour of sundown before Parson Jones had begun fairly to examine thebooks and papers in the chest. 

Of the three books, two were evidently log-books of the pirates who hadbeen lying off the mouth of the Delaware Bay all this time. The otherbook was written in Spanish, and was evidently the log-book of somecaptured prize. 

It was then, sitting there upon the sand, the good old gentlemanreading in his high, cracking voice, that they first learned from thebloody records in those two books who it was who had been lying insidethe Cape all this time, and that it was the famous Captain Kidd. Everynow and then the reverend gentleman would stop to exclaim, "Oh, thebloody wretch!" or, "Oh, the desperate, cruel villains!" and then wouldgo on reading again a scrap here and a scrap there. 

And all the while Tom Chist sat and listened, every now and thenreaching out furtively and touching the heap of money still lying uponthe coat. 

One might be inclined to wonder why Captain Kidd had kept those bloodyrecords. He had probably laid them away because they so incriminatedmany of the great people of the colony of New York that, with the booksin evidence, it would have been impossible to bring the pirate tojustice without dragging a dozen or more fine gentlemen into the dockalong with him. If he could have kept them in his own possession, theywould doubtless have been a great weapon of defence to protect him fromthe gallows. Indeed, when Captain Kidd was finally brought toconviction and hung, he was not accused of his piracies, but ofstriking a mutinous seaman upon the head with a bucket and accidentallykilling him. The authorities did not dare try him for piracy. He wasreally hung because he was a pirate, and we know that it was thelog-books that Tom Chist brought to New York that did the business for him;he was accused and convicted of manslaughter for killing of his ownship-carpenter with a bucket. 

So Parson Jones, sitting there in the slanting light, read throughthese terrible records of piracy, and Tom, with the pile of gold andsilver money beside him, sat and listened to him. 

What a spectacle, if any one had come upon them! But they were alone, with the vast arch of sky empty above them and the wide white stretchof sand a desert around them. The sun sank lower and lower, until therewas only time to glance through the other papers in the chest. 

They were nearly all goldsmiths' bills of exchange drawn in favor ofcertain of the most prominent merchants of New York. Parson Jones, ashe read over the names, knew of nearly all the gentlemen by hearsay. Aye, here was this gentleman; he thought that name would be among 'em. What? Here is Mr. So-and-so. Well, if all they say is true, the villainhas robbed one of his own best friends. "I wonder, " he said, "why thewretch should have hidden these papers so carefully away with the othertreasures, for they could do him no good?" Then, answering his ownquestion: "Like enough because these will give him a hold over thegentlemen to whom they are drawn so that he can make a good bargain forhis own neck before he gives the bills back to their owners. I tell youwhat it is, Tom, " he continued, "it is you yourself shall go to NewYork and bargain for the return of these papers. 'Twill be as good asanother fortune to you. "

The majority of the bills were drawn in favor of one RichardChillingsworth, Esquire. "And he is, " said Parson Jones; "one of therichest men in the province of New York. You shall go to him with thenews of what we have found. "

"When shall I go?" said Tom Chist. 

"You shall go upon the very first boat we can catch, " said the Parson. He had turned, still holding the bills in his hand, and was nowfingering over the pile of money that yet lay tumbled out upon thecoat. "I wonder, Tom, " said he, "if you could spare me a score or so ofthese doubloons?"

"You shall have fifty score, if you choose, " said Tom, bursting withgratitude and with generosity in his newly found treasure. 

"You are as fine a lad as ever I saw, Tom, " said the Parson, "and I'llthank you to the last day of my life. "

Tom scooped up a double handful of silver money. "Take it, sir, " hesaid, "and you may have as much more as you want of it. "

He poured it into the dish that the good man made of his hands, and theParson made a motion as though to empty it into his pocket. Then hestopped, as though a sudden doubt had occurred to him. "I don't knowthat 'tis fit for me to take this pirate money, after all, " he said. 

"But you are welcome to it, " said Tom. 

Still the Parson hesitated. "Nay, " he burst out, "I'll not take it;'tis blood-money. " And as he spoke he chucked the whole double handfulinto the now empty chest, then arose and dusted the sand from hisbreeches. Then, with a great deal of bustling energy, he helped to tiethe bags again and put them all back into the chest. 

They reburied the chest in the place whence they had taken it, and thenthe Parson folded the precious paper of directions, placed it carefullyin his wallet, and his wallet in his pocket. 

"Tom, " he said, for the twentieth time, "your fortune has been madethis day. "

And Tom Chist, as he rattled in his breeches pocket the half-dozendoubloons he had kept out of his treasure, felt that what his friendhad said was true. 

 * * * * *

As the two went back homeward across the level space of sand, Tom Chistsuddenly stopped stock still and stood looking about him. "'Twas justhere, " he said, digging his heel down into the sand, "that they killedthe poor black man. "

"And here he lies buried for all time, " said Parson Jones; and as hespoke he dug his cane down into the sand. Tom Chist shuddered. He wouldnot have been surprised if the ferrule of the cane had struck somethingsoft beneath that level surface. But it did not, nor was any sign ofthat tragedy ever seen again. For, whether the pirates had carried awaywhat they had done and buried it elsewhere, or whether the storm inblowing the sand had completely levelled off and hidden all sign ofthat tragedy where it was enacted, certain it is that it never came tosight again--at least so far as Tom Chist and the Reverend HillaryJones ever knew. 

VII

This is the story of the treasure-box. All that remains now is toconclude the story of Tom Chist, and to tell of what came of him in theend. 

He did not go back again to live with old Matt Abrahamson. Parson Joneshad now taken charge of him and his fortunes, and Tom did not have togo back to the fisherman's hut. 

Old Abrahamson talked a great deal about it, and would come in his cupsand harangue good Parson Jones, making a vast protestation of what hewould do to Tom--if he ever caught him--for running away. But Tom onall these occasions kept carefully out of his way, and nothing came ofthe old man's threatenings. 

Tom used to go over to see his foster-mother now and then, but alwayswhen the old man was from home. And Molly Abrahamson used to warn himto keep out of her father's way. "He's in as vile a humor as ever Isee, Tom, " she said; "he sits sulking all day long, and 'tis my beliefhe'd kill ye if he caught ye. "

Of course Tom said nothing, even to her, about the treasure, and he andthe reverend gentleman kept the knowledge thereof to themselves. Aboutthree weeks later Parson Jones managed to get him shipped aboard of avessel bound for New York town, and a few days later Tom Chist landedat that place. He had never been in such a town before, and he couldnot sufficiently wonder and marvel at the number of brick houses, atthe multitude of people coming and going along the fine, hard, earthensidewalk, at the shops and the stores where goods hung in the windows, and, most of all, the fortifications and the battery at the point, atthe rows of threatening cannon, and at the scarlet-coated sentriespacing up and down the ramparts. All this was very wonderful, and sowere the clustered boats riding at anchor in the harbor. It was like anew world, so different was it from the sand-hills and the sedgy levelsof Henlopen. 

Tom Chist took up his lodgings at a coffeehouse near to the town-hall, and thence he sent by the post-boy a letter written by Parson Jones toMaster Chillingsworth. In a little while the boy returned with amessage, asking Tom to come up to Mr. Chillingsworth's house thatafternoon at two o'clock. 

Tom went thither with a great deal of trepidation, and his heart fellaway altogether when he found it a fine, grand brick house, threestories high, and with wrought-iron letters across the front. 

The counting-house was in the same building; but Tom, because of Mr. Jones's letter, was conducted directly into the parlor, where the greatrich man was awaiting his coming. He was sitting in a leather-coveredarm-chair, smoking a pipe of tobacco, and with a bottle of fine oldMadeira close to his elbow. 

Tom had not had a chance to buy a new suit of clothes yet, and so hecut no very fine figure in the rough dress he had brought with him fromHenlopen. Nor did Mr. Chillingsworth seem to think very highly of hisappearance, for he sat looking sideways at Tom as he smoked. 

"Well, my lad, " he said; "and what is this great thing you have to tellme that is so mightily wonderful? I got what's-his-name--Mr. Jones's--letter, and now I am ready to hear what you have to say. "

But if he thought but little of his visitor's appearance at first, hesoon changed his sentiments towards him, for Tom had not spoken twentywords when Mr. Chillingsworth's whole aspect changed. He straightenedhimself up in his seat, laid aside his pipe, pushed away his glass ofMadeira, and bade Tom take a chair. He listened without a word as TomChist told of the buried treasure, of how he had seen the poor negromurdered, and of how he and Parson Jones had recovered the chest again. Only once did Mr. Chillingsworth interrupt the narrative. "And tothink, " he cried, "that the villain this very day walks about New Yorktown as though he were an honest man, ruffling it with the best of us!But if we can only get hold of these log-books you speak of. Go on;tell me more of this. "

When Tom Chist's narrative was ended, Mr. Chillingsworth's bearing wasas different as daylight is from dark. He asked a thousand questions, all in the most polite and gracious tone imaginable, and not only urgeda glass of his fine old Madeira upon Tom, but asked him to stay tosupper. There was nobody to be there, he said, but his wife anddaughter. 

Tom, all in a panic at the very thought of the two ladies, sturdilyrefused to stay even for the dish of tea Mr. Chillingsworth offeredhim. 

He did not know that he was destined to stay there as long as he shouldlive. 

"And now, " said Mr. Chillingsworth, "tell me about yourself. "

"I have nothing to tell, your honor, " said Tom, "except that I waswashed up out of the sea. "

"Washed up out of the sea!" exclaimed Mr. Chillingsworth. "Why, how wasthat? Come, begin at the beginning, and tell me all. "

Thereupon Tom Chist did as he was bidden, beginning at the verybeginning and telling everything just as Molly Abrahamson had oftentold it to him. As he continued, Mr. Chillingsworth's interest changedinto an appearance of stronger and stronger excitement. Suddenly hejumped up out of his chair and began to walk up and down the room. 

"Stop! stop!" he cried out at last, in the midst of something Tom wassaying. "Stop! stop! Tell me; do you know the name of the vessel thatwas wrecked, and from which you were washed ashore?"

"I've heard it said, " said Tom Chist, "'twas the _Bristol Merchant_. "

"I knew it! I knew it!" exclaimed the great man, in a loud voice, flinging his hands up into the air. "I felt it was so the moment youbegan the story. But tell me this, was there nothing found with youwith a mark or a name upon it?"

"There was a kerchief, " said Tom, "marked with a T and a C. "

"Theodosia Chillingsworth!" cried out the merchant. "I knew it! I knewit! Heavens! to think of anything so wonderful happening as this! Boy!boy! dost thou know who thou art? Thou art my own brother's son. Hisname was Oliver Chillingsworth, and he was my partner in business, andthou art his son. " Then he ran out into the entryway, shouting andcalling for his wife and daughter to come. 

So Tom Chist--or Thomas Chillingsworth, as he now was to be called--didstay to supper, after all. 

This is the story, and I hope you may like it. For Tom Chist becamerich and great, as was to be supposed, and he married his pretty cousinTheodosia (who had been named for his own mother, drowned in the_Bristol Merchant_). 

He did not forget his friends, but had Parson Jones brought to New Yorkto live. 

As to Molly and Matt Abrahamson, they both enjoyed a pension of tenpounds a year for as long as they lived; for now that all was well withhim, Tom bore no grudge against the old fisherman for all the drubbingshe had suffered. 

The treasure-box was brought on to New York, and if Tom Chist did notget all the money there was in it (as Parson Jones had opined he would)he got at least a good big lump of it. And it is my belief that thoselog-books did more to get Captain Kidd arrested in Boston town andhanged in London than anything else that was brought up against him. 

III. THE GHOST OF CAPTAIN BRAND

_Being a Narrative of Certain Extraordinary Adventures that BefellBarnaby True, Esquire, of the Town of New York, in the Year 1753. _

I

It is not so easy to tell why discredit should be cast upon a manbecause of something his grandfather may have done amiss, but theworld, which is never over-nice in its discrimination as to where tolay the blame, is often pleased to make the innocent suffer instead ofthe guilty. 

Barnaby True was a good, honest boy, as boys go, but yet was he notever allowed altogether to forget that his grandfather had been thatvery famous pirate, Captain William Brand, who, after so manymarvellous adventures (if one may believe the catchpenny stories andballads that were writ about him), was murdered in Jamaica by CaptainJohn Malyoe, the commander of his own consort, the _Adventure_ galley. 

It hath never been denied, that ever I heard, that up to the time ofCaptain Brand's being commissioned against the South Sea pirates, hehad always been esteemed as honest, reputable a sea-captain as couldbe. When he started out upon that adventure it was with a ship, the_Royal Sovereign_, fitted out by some of the most decent merchants ofNew York. Governor Van Dam himself had subscribed to the adventure, andhimself had signed Captain Brand's commission. So, if the unfortunateman went astray, he must have had great temptation to do so; manyothers behaving no better when the opportunity offered in thesefar-away seas, when so many rich purchases might very easily be taken andno one the wiser. 

To be sure those stories and ballads made our captain to be a mostwicked, profane wretch; and if he were, why God knows he suffered andpaid for it, for he laid his bones in Jamaica, and never saw his homeor his wife or his daughter after he had sailed away on the _RoyalSovereign_ on that long, misfortunate voyage, leaving his family behindhim in New York to the care of strangers. 

At the time when Captain Brand so met his fate in Port Royal Harbor hehad increased his flotilla to two vessels--the _Royal Sovereign_ (whichwas the vessel that had been fitted out for him in New York, a finebrigantine and a good sailer), and the _Adventure_ galley, which he hadcaptured somewhere in the South Seas. This latter vessel he placed incommand of a certain John Malyoe whom he had picked up no one knowswhere--a young man of very good family in England, who had turnedred-handed pirate. This man, who took no more thought of a human life thanhe would of a broom straw, was he who afterwards murdered CaptainBrand, as you shall presently hear. 

With these two vessels, the _Royal Sovereign_ and the _Adventure_, Captain Brand and Captain Malyoe swept the Mozambique Channel as clearas a boatswain's whistle, and after three years of piracy, havinggained a great booty of gold and silver and pearls, sailed straight forthe Americas, making first the island of Jamaica and the harbor of PortRoyal, where they dropped anchor to wait for news from home. 

But by this time the authorities had been so stirred up against ourpirates that it became necessary for them to hide their booty untilsuch time as they might make their peace with the Admiralty Courts athome. So one night Captain Brand and Captain Malyoe, with two others ofthe pirates, went ashore with two great chests of treasure, which theyburied somewhere on the banks of the Cobra River near the place wherethe old Spanish fort had stood. 

What happened after the treasure was thus buried no one may tell. 'Twassaid that Captain Brand and Captain Malyoe fell a-quarrelling and thatthe upshot of the matter was that Captain Malyoe shot Captain Brandthrough the head, and that the pirate who was with him served CaptainBrand's companion after the same fashion with a pistol bullet throughthe body. 

After that the two murderers returned to their vessel, the _Adventure_galley, and sailed away, carrying the bloody secret of the buriedtreasure with them. 

[Illustration: "CAPTAIN MALYOE SHOT CAPTAIN BRAND THROUGH THE HEAD"]

But this double murder of Captain Brand and his companion happened, youare to understand, some twenty years before the time of this story, andwhile our hero was but one year old. So now to our present history. 

It is a great pity that any one should have a grandfather who ended hisdays in such a sort as this; but it was no fault of Barnaby True's, norcould he have done anything to prevent it, seeing he was not even borninto the world at the time that his grandfather turned pirate, and thathe was only one year old when Captain Brand so met his death on theCobra River. Nevertheless, the boys with whom he went to school nevertired of calling him "Pirate, " and would sometimes sing for his benefitthat famous catchpenny ballad beginning thus:

"Oh! my name was Captain Brand, A-sailing, And a-sailing;Oh! my name was Captain Brand, A-sailing free. Oh! my name was Captain Brand, And I sinned by sea and land, For I broke God's just command, A-sailing free. "

'Twas a vile thing to sing at the grandson of so unfortunate a man, andoftentimes Barnaby True would double up his little fists and wouldfight his tormentors at great odds, and would sometimes go back homewith a bloody nose or a bruised eye to have his poor mother cry overhim and grieve for him. 

Not that his days were all of teasing and torment, either; for if hiscomrades did sometimes treat him so, why then there were other timeswhen he and they were as great friends as could be, and used to goa-swimming together in the most amicable fashion where there was a bit ofsandy strand below the little bluff along the East River above FortGeorge. 

There was a clump of wide beech-trees at that place, with a fine shadeand a place to lay their clothes while they swam about, splashing withtheir naked white bodies in the water. At these times Master Barnabywould bawl as lustily and laugh as loud as though his grandfather hadbeen the most honest ship-chandler in the town, instead of abloody-handed pirate who had been murdered in his sins. 

Ah! It is a fine thing to look back to the days when one was a boy!Barnaby may remember how, often, when he and his companions werepaddling so in the water, the soldiers off duty would come up from thefort and would maybe join them in the water, others, perhaps, standingin their red coats on the shore, looking on and smoking their pipes oftobacco. 

Then there were other times when maybe the very next day after our herohad fought with great valor with his fellows he would go a-ramblingwith them up the Bouwerie Road with the utmost friendliness; perhaps tohelp them steal cherries from some old Dutch farmer, forgetting in suchan adventure what a thief his own grandfather had been. 

But to resume our story. 

When Barnaby True was between sixteen and seventeen years old he wastaken into employment in the counting-house of his stepfather, Mr. Roger Hartright, the well-known West Indian merchant, a mostrespectable man and one of the kindest and best of friends that anybodycould have in the world. 

This good gentleman had courted the favor of Barnaby's mother for along time before he had married her. Indeed, he had so courted herbefore she had ever thought of marrying Jonathan True. But he notventuring to ask her in marriage, and she being a brisk, handsomewoman, she chose the man who spoke out his mind, and so left the silentlover out in the cold. But so soon as she was a widow and free again, Mr. Hartright resumed his wooing, and so used to come down everyTuesday and Friday evening to sit and talk with her. Among BarnabyTrue's earliest memories was a recollection of the good, kind gentlemansitting in old Captain Brand's double-nailed arm-chair, the sunlightshining across his knees, over which he had spread a great red silkhandkerchief, while he sipped a dish of tea with a dash of rum in it. He kept up this habit of visiting the Widow True for a long time beforehe could fetch himself to the point of asking anything more particularof her, and so Barnaby was nigh fourteen years old before Mr. Hartrightmarried her, and so became our hero's dear and honored foster-father. 

It was the kindness of this good man that not only found a place forBarnaby in the counting-house, but advanced him so fast that, againstour hero was twenty-one years old, he had made four voyages assupercargo to the West Indies in Mr. Hartright's ship, the _BelleHelen_, and soon after he was twenty-one undertook a fifth. 

Nor was it in any such subordinate position as mere supercargo that hesailed upon these adventures, but rather as the confidential agent ofMr. Hartright, who, having no likelihood of children of his own, wasjealous to advance our hero to a position of trust and responsibilityin the counting-house, and so would have him know all the particularsof the business and become more intimately acquainted with thecorrespondents and agents throughout those parts of the West Indieswhere the affairs of the house were most active. He would give toBarnaby the best sort of letters of introduction, so that thecorrespondents of Mr. Hartright throughout those parts, seeing how thatgentleman had adopted our hero's interests as his own, were always atconsiderable pains to be very polite and obliging in showing everyattention to him. 

Especially among these gentlemen throughout the West Indies may bementioned Mr. Ambrose Greenfield, a merchant of excellent standing wholived at Kingston, Jamaica. This gentleman was very particular to doall that he could to make our hero's stay in these parts as agreeableand pleasant to him as might be. Mr. Greenfield is here spoken of witha greater degree of particularity than others who might as well beremarked upon, because, as the reader shall presently discover forhimself, it was through the offices of this good friend that our herofirst became acquainted, not only with that lady who afterwards figuredwith such conspicuousness in his affairs, but also with a man who, though graced with a title, was perhaps the greatest villain who everescaped a just fate upon the gallows. 

So much for the history of Barnaby True up to the beginning of thisstory, without which you shall hardly be able to understand the purportof those most extraordinary adventures that afterwards befell him, northe logic of their consequence after they had occurred. 

II

Upon the occasion of our hero's fifth voyage into the West Indies hemade a stay of some six or eight weeks at Kingston, in the island ofJamaica, and it was at that time that the first of those extraordinaryadventures befell him, concerning which this narrative has to relate. 

It was Barnaby's habit, when staying at Kingston, to take lodging witha very decent, respectable widow, by name Mrs. Anne Bolles, who, withthree extremely agreeable and pleasant daughters, kept a very clean andwell-served house for the accommodation of strangers visiting thatisland. 

One morning as he sat sipping his coffee, clad only in loose cottondrawers and a jacket of the same material, and with slippers upon hisfeet (as is the custom in that country, where every one endeavors tokeep as cool as may be), Miss Eliza, the youngest of the threedaughters--a brisk, handsome miss of sixteen or seventeen--cametripping into the room and handed him a sealed letter, which shedeclared a stranger had just left at the door, departing incontinentlyso soon as he had eased himself of that commission. You may conceive ofBarnaby's astonishment when he opened the note and read the remarkablewords that here follow:

"_Mr. Barnaby True. _

"Sir, --Though you don't know me, I know you, and I tell you this: if you will be at Pratt's Ordinaryon Friday next at eight o'clock in the evening, andwill accompany the man who shall say to you, '_TheRoyal Sovereign is come in_' you shall learn of somethingthe most to your advantage that ever befell you. Sir, keep this note and give it to him who shall addressthose words to you, so to certify that you arethe man he seeks. Sir, this is the most important thingthat can concern you, so you will please say nothingto nobody about it. "

Such was the wording of the note which was writ in as cramped andvillanous handwriting as our hero ever beheld, and which, excepting hisown name, was without address, and which possessed no superscriptionwhatever. 

The first emotion that stirred Barnaby True was one of extreme andprofound astonishment; the second thought that came into his mind wasthat maybe some witty fellow--of whom he knew a good many in thatplace, and wild, mad rakes they were as ever the world beheld--wasattempting to play off a smart, witty jest upon him. Indeed, Miss ElizaBolles, who was of a lively, mischievous temper, was not herself aboveplaying such a prank should the occasion offer. With this thought inhis mind Barnaby inquired of her with a good deal of particularityconcerning the appearance and condition of the man who had left thenote, to all of which Miss replied with so straight a face and socandid an air that he could no longer suspect her of being concerned inany trick against him, and so eased his mind of any such suspicion. Thebearer of the note, she informed him, was a tall, lean man, with a redneckerchief tied around his neck and with copper buckles to his shoes, and he had the appearance of a sailor-man, having a great queue of redhair hanging down his back. But, Lord! what was such a description asthat in a busy seaport town full of scores of men to fit such alikeness? Accordingly, our hero put the note away into his wallet, determining to show it to his good friend Mr. Greenfield that evening, and to ask his advice upon it. 

This he did, and that gentleman's opinion was the same as his: to wit, that some wag was minded to play off a hoax upon him, and that thematter of the letter was all nothing but smoke. 

III

Nevertheless, though Barnaby was thus confirmed in his opinion as tothe nature of the communication he had received, he yet determined inhis own mind that he would see the business through to the end and sobe at Pratt's Ordinary, as the note demanded, upon the day and at thetime appointed therein. 

Pratt's Ordinary was at that time a very fine and famous place of itssort, with good tobacco and the best rum in the West Indies, and had agarden behind it that, sloping down to the harbor front, was plantedpretty thick with palms and ferns, grouped into clusters with flowersand plants. Here were a number of tables, some in little grottos, likeour Vauxhall in New York, with red and blue and white paper lanternshung among the foliage. Thither gentlemen and ladies used sometimes togo of an evening to sit and drink lime-juice and sugar and water (andsometimes a taste of something stronger), and to look out across thewater at the shipping and so to enjoy the cool of the day. 

Thither, accordingly, our hero went a little before the time appointedin the note, and, passing directly through the Ordinary and to thegarden beyond, chose a table at the lower end and close to the water'sedge, where he could not readily be seen by any one coming into theplace, and yet where he could easily view whoever should approach. Then, ordering some rum and water and a pipe of tobacco, he composedhimself to watch for the arrival of those witty fellows whom hesuspected would presently come thither to see the end of their prankand to enjoy his confusion. 

The spot was pleasant enough, for the land breeze, blowing strong andcool, set the leaves of the palm-tree above his head to rattling andclattering continually against the darkness of the sky, where, the moonthen being half full, they shone every now and then like blades ofsteel. The waves, also, were splashing up against the littlelanding-place at the foot of the garden, sounding mightily pleasant in thedusk of the evening, and sparkling all over the harbor where the mooncaught the edges of the water. A great many vessels were lying at anchor intheir ridings, with the dark, prodigious form of a man-of-war loomingup above them in the moonlight. 

There our hero sat for the best part of an hour, smoking his pipe oftobacco and sipping his rum and water, yet seeing nothing of those whomhe suspected might presently come thither to laugh at him. 

It was not far from half after the hour when a row-boat came suddenlyout of the night and pulled up to the landing-place at the foot of thegarden, and three or four men came ashore in the darkness. They landedvery silently and walked up the garden pathway without saying a word, and, sitting down at an adjacent table, ordered rum and water and begandrinking among themselves, speaking every now and then a word or two ina tongue that Barnaby did not well understand, but which, from certainphrases they let fall, he suspected to be Portuguese. Our hero paid nogreat attention to them, till by-and-by he became aware that they hadfallen to whispering together and were regarding him very curiously. Hefelt himself growing very uneasy under this observation, which everymoment grew more and more particular, and he was just beginning tosuspect that this interest concerning himself might have somewhat moreto do with him than mere idle curiosity, when one of the men, who wasplainly the captain of the party, suddenly says to him, "How now, messmate; won't you come and have a drop of drink with us?"

At this address Barnaby instantly began to be aware that the affair hehad come upon was indeed no jest, as he had supposed it to be, but thathe had walked into what promised to be a very pretty adventure. Nevertheless, not wishing to be too hasty in his conclusions, heanswered very civilly that he had drunk enough already, and that morewould only heat his blood. 

"Well, " says the stranger, "I may be mistook, but I believe you are Mr. Barnaby True. "

"You are right, sir, and that is my name, " acknowledged Barnaby. "Butstill I cannot guess how that may concern you, nor why it should be areason for my drinking with you. " "That I will presently tell you, "says the stranger, very composedly. "Your name concerns me because Iwas sent here to tell Mr. Barnaby True that '_the Royal Sovereign iscome in_. '"

To be sure our hero's heart jumped into his throat at those words. Hispulse began beating at a tremendous rate, for here, indeed, was anadventure suddenly opening to him such as a man may read about in abook, but which he may hardly expect to befall him in the realhappenings of his life. Had he been a wiser and an older man he mighthave declined the whole business, instead of walking blindly into thatof which he could see neither the beginning nor the ending; but beingbarely one-and-twenty years of age, and possessing a sanguine temperand an adventurous disposition that would have carried him into almostanything that possessed a smack of uncertainty or danger, he contrivedto say, in a pretty easy tone (though God knows how it was put on forthe occasion):

"Well, if that be so, and if the _Royal Sovereign_ is indeed come in, why, then, I'll join you, since you are so kind as to ask me. "Therewith he arose and went across to the other table, carrying hispipe with him, and sat down and began smoking, with all the appearanceof ease he could command upon the occasion. 

At this the other burst out a-laughing. "Indeed, " says he, "you are acool blade, and a chip of the old block. But harkee, young gentleman, "and here he fell serious again. "This is too weighty a business tochance any mistake in a name. I believe that you are, as you say, Mr. Barnaby True; but, nevertheless, to make perfectly sure, I must ask youfirst to show me a note that you have about you and which you areinstructed to show to me. "

"Very well, " said Barnaby; "I have it here safe and sound, and youshall see it. " And thereupon and without more ado he drew out hiswallet, opened it, and handed the other the mysterious note which hehad kept carefully by him ever since he had received it. Hisinterlocutor took the paper, and drawing to him the candle, burningthere for the convenience of those who would smoke tobacco, beganimmediately reading it. 

This gave Barnaby True a moment or two to look at him. He was a tall, lean man with a red handkerchief tied around his neck, with a queue ofred hair hanging down his back, and with copper buckles on his shoes, so that Barnaby True could not but suspect that he was the very sameman who had given the note to Miss Eliza Bolles at the door of hislodging-house. 

"'Tis all right and straight and as it should be, " the other said, after he had so examined the note. "And now that the paper is read"(suiting his action to his words), "I'll just burn it for safety'ssake. "

And so he did, twisting it up and setting it to the flame of thecandle. "And now, " he said, continuing his address, "I'll tell you whatI am here for. I was sent to ask if you're man enough to take your lifein your hands and to go with me in that boat down yonder at the foot ofthe garden. Say 'Yes, ' and we'll start away without wasting more time, for the devil is ashore here at Jamaica--though you don't know whatthat means--and if he gets ahead of us, why then we may whistle forwhat we are after, for all the good 'twill do us. Say 'No, ' and I goaway, and I promise you you shall never be troubled more in this sortof a way. So now speak up plain, young gentleman, and tell us what isyour wish in this business, and whether you will adventure any furtheror no. "

If our hero hesitated it was not for long, and when he spoke up it waswith a voice as steady as could be. 

"To be sure I'm man enough to go with you, " says he; "and if you meanme any harm I can look out for myself; and if I can't, then here issomething can look out for me. " And therewith he lifted up the flap ofhis pocket and showed the butt of a pistol he had fetched with him whenhe had set out from his lodging-house that evening. 

At this the other burst out a-laughing for a second time. "Come, " sayshe; "you are indeed of right mettle, and I like your spirit. All thesame, no one in all the world means you less ill than I, and so, if youhave to use that barker, 'twill not be upon us who are your friends, but only upon one who is more wicked than the devil himself. So now ifyou are prepared and have made up your mind and are determined to seethis affair through to the end, 'tis time for us to be away. "Whereupon, our hero indicating his acquiescence, his interlocutor andthe others (who had not spoken a single word for all this time), rosetogether from the table, and the stranger having paid the scores ofall, they went down together to the boat that lay plainly awaitingtheir coming at the bottom of the garden. 

Thus coming to it, our hero could see that it was a large yawl-boatmanned by half a score of black men for rowers, and that there were twolanterns in the stern-sheets, and three or four shovels. 

The man who had conducted the conversation with Barnaby True for allthis time, and who was, as has been said, plainly the captain of theexpedition, stepped immediately down into the boat; our hero followed, and the others followed after him; and instantly they were seated theboat shoved off and the black men began pulling straight out into theharbor, and so, at some distance away, around under the stern of theman-of-war. 

Not a word was spoken after they had thus left the shore, and theymight all have been so many spirits for the silence of the party. Barnaby True was too full of his own thoughts to talk (and seriousenough thoughts they were by this time, with crimps to trepan a man atevery turn, and press-gangs to carry him off so that he might never beheard of again). As for the others, they did not seem to choose to sayanything now that they had been fairly embarked upon their enterprise, and so the crew pulled away for the best part of an hour, the leader ofthe expedition directing the course of the boat straight across theharbor, as though towards the mouth of the Cobra River. Indeed, thiswas their destination, as Barnaby could after a while see for himself, by the low point of land with a great, long row of cocoanut-palmsgrowing upon it (the appearance of which he knew very well), whichby-and-by began to loom up from the dimness of the moonlight. As theyapproached the river they found the tide was running very violently, sothat it gurgled and rippled alongside the boat as the crew of black menpulled strongly against it. Thus rowing slowly against the stream theycame around what appeared to be either a point of land or an isletcovered with a thick growth of mangrove-trees; though still no onespoke a single word as to their destination, or what was the businessthey had in hand. 

The night, now that they had come close to the shore, appeared to befull of the noises of running tide-water, and the air was heavy withthe smell of mud and marsh. And over all was the whiteness of themoonlight, with a few stars pricking out here and there in the sky; andeverything was so strange and mysterious and so different from anythingthat he had experienced before that Barnaby could not divest himself ofthe feeling that it was all a dream from which at any moment he mightawaken. As for the town and the Ordinary he had quitted such a shorttime before, so different were they from this present experience, itwas as though they might have concerned another life than that which hewas then enjoying. 

Meantime, the rowers bending to the oars, the boat drew slowly aroundinto the open water once more. As it did so the leader of theexpedition of a sudden called out in a loud, commanding voice, whereatthe black men instantly ceased rowing and lay on their oars, the boatdrifting onward into the night. 

At the same moment of time our hero became aware of another boat comingdown the river towards where they lay. This other boat, approachingthus strangely through the darkness, was full of men, some of themarmed; for even in the distance Barnaby could not but observe that thelight of the moon glimmered now and then as upon the barrels of musketsor pistols. This threw him into a good deal of disquietude of mind, forwhether they or this boat were friends or enemies, or as to what was tohappen next, he was altogether in the dark. 

Upon this point, however, he was not left very long in doubt, for theoarsmen of the approaching boat continuing to row steadily onward tillthey had come pretty close to Barnaby and his companions, a man who satin the stern suddenly stood up, and as they passed by shook a cane atBarnaby's companion with a most threatening and angry gesture. At thesame moment, the moonlight shining full upon him, Barnaby could see himas plain as daylight--a large, stout gentleman with a round red face, and clad in a fine, laced coat of red cloth. In the stern of the boatnear by him was a box or chest about the bigness of a middle-sizedtravelling-trunk, but covered all over with cakes of sand and dirt. Inthe act of passing, the gentleman, still standing, pointed at thischest with his cane--an elegant gold-headed staff--and roared out in aloud voice: "Are you come after this, Abram Dowling? Then come and takeit. " And thereat, as he sat down again, burst out a-laughing as thoughwhat he had said was the wittiest jest conceivable. 

Either because he respected the armed men in the other boat, or elsefor some reason best known to himself, the Captain of our hero'sexpedition did not immediately reply, but sat as still as any stone. But at last, the other boat having drifted pretty far away, he suddenlyfound words to shout out after it: "Very well, Jack Malyoe! Very well, Jack Malyoe! You've got the better of us once more. But next time isthe third, and then it'll be our turn, even if William Brand must comeback from the grave to settle with you himself. "

But to this my fine gentleman in t'other boat made no reply except toburst out once more into a great fit of laughter. 

There was, however, still another man in the stern of the enemy'sboat--a villanous, lean man with lantern-jaws, and the top of his head asbald as an apple. He held in his hand a great pistol, which heflourished about him, crying out to the gentleman beside him, "Do butgive me the word, your honor, and I'll put another bullet through theson of a sea cook. " But the other forbade him, and therewith the boatpresently melted away into the darkness of the night and was gone. 

This happened all in a few seconds, so that before our hero understoodwhat was passing he found the boat in which he still sat driftingsilently in the moonlight (for no one spoke for awhile) and the oars ofthe other boat sounding farther and farther away into the distance. 

By-and-by says one of those in Barnaby's boat, in Spanish, "Where shallyou go now?"

At this the leader of the expedition appeared suddenly to come back tohimself and to find his tongue again. "Go?" he roared out. "Go to thedevil! Go? Go where you choose! Go? Go back again--that's where wellgo!" And therewith he fell a-cursing and swearing, frothing at the lipsas though he had gone clean crazy, while the black men, bending oncemore to their oars, rowed back again across the harbor as fast as everthey could lay oars to the water. 

They put Barnaby True ashore below the old custom-house, but sobewildered and amazed by all that had happened, and by what he hadseen, and by the names he had heard spoken, that he was only halfconscious of the familiar things among which he suddenly found himselftransported. The moonlight and the night appeared to have taken uponthem a new and singular aspect, and he walked up the street towards hislodging like one drunk or in a dream. For you must remember that "JohnMalyoe" was the captain of the _Adventure_ galley--he who had shotBarnaby's own grandfather--and "Abram Dowling, " I must tell you, hadbeen the gunner of the _Royal Sovereign_--he who had been shot at thesame time that Captain Brand met his tragical end. And yet these nameshe had heard spoken--the one from one boat, and the other from theother, so that he could not but wonder what sort of beings they wereamong whom he had fallen. 

As to that box covered all over with mud, he could only offer aconjecture as to what it contained and as to what the finding of itsignified. 

But of this our hero said nothing to any one, nor did he tell any onewhat he suspected, for, though he was so young in years, he possessed acontinent disposition inherited from his father (who had been one often children born to a poor but worthy Presbyterian minister ofBluefield, Connecticut), so it was that not even to his good friend Mr. Greenfield did Barnaby say a word as to what had happened to him, goingabout his business the next day as though nothing of moment hadoccurred. 

But he was not destined yet to be done with those beings among whom hehad fallen that night; for that which he supposed to be the ending ofthe whole affair was only the beginning of further adventures that weresoon to befall him. 

IV

Mr. Greenfield lived in a fine brick house just outside of the town, onthe Mona Road. His family consisted of a wife and two daughters--handsome, lively young ladies with very fine, bright teeth that shonewhenever they laughed, and with a-plenty to say for themselves. To thispleasant house Barnaby True was often asked to a family dinner, afterwhich he and his good kind host would maybe sit upon the veranda, looking out towards the mountain, smoking their cigarros while theyoung ladies laughed and talked, or played upon the guitar and sang. 

A day or two before the _Belle Helen_ sailed from Kingston, upon herreturn voyage to New York, Mr. Greenfield stopped Barnaby True as hewas passing through the office, and begged him to come to dinner thatnight. (For within the tropics, you are to know, they breakfast ateleven o'clock and take dinner in the cool of the evening, because ofthe heat, and not at mid-day, as we do in more temperate latitudes). "Iwould, " says Mr. Greenfield, "have you meet Sir John Malyoe and MissMarjorie, who are to be your chief passengers for New York, and forwhom the state cabin and the two state-rooms are to be fitted as hereordered"--showing a letter--"for Sir John hath arranged, " says Mr. Greenfield, "for the Captain's own state-room. "

Then, not being aware of Barnaby True's history, nor that Captain Brandwas his grandfather, the good gentleman--calling Sir John "Jack"Malyoe--goes on to tell our hero what a famous pirate he had been, andhow it was he who had shot Captain Brand over t'other side of theharbor twenty years before. "Yes, " says he, "'tis the same Jack Malyoe, though grown into repute and importance now, as who would not who hathhad the good-fortune to fall heir to a baronetcy and a landed estate?"

And so it befell that same night that Barnaby True once again beheldthe man who had murdered his own grandfather, meeting him this timeface to face. 

That time in the harbor he had seen Sir John Malyoe at a distance andin the darkness; now that he beheld him closer, it seemed to him thathe had never seen a countenance more distasteful to him in all hislife. Not that the man was altogether ugly, for he had a good enoughnose and a fine double chin; but his eyes stood out from his face andwere red and watery, and he winked them continually, as though theywere always a-smarting. His lips were thick and purple-red, and hischeeks mottled here and there with little clots of veins. 

When he spoke, his voice rattled in his throat to such a degree that itmade one wish to clear one's own throat to listen to him. So, what witha pair of fat, white hands, and that hoarse voice, and his swollenface, and his thick lips a-sticking out, it appeared to Barnaby True hehad never beheld a countenance that pleased him so little. 

But if Sir John Malyoe suited our hero's taste so ill, thegranddaughter was in the same degree pleasing to him. She had a thin, fair skin, red lips, and yellow hair--though it was then powderedpretty white for the occasion--and the bluest eyes that ever he beheldin all of his life. A sweet, timid creature, who appeared not to dareso much as to speak a word for herself without looking to that greatbeast, her grandfather, for leave to do so, for she would shrink andshudder whenever he would speak of a sudden to her or direct a glanceupon her. When she did pluck up sufficient courage to say anything, itwas in so low a voice that Barnaby was obliged to bend his head to hearher; and when she smiled she would as like as not catch herself shortand look up as though to see if she did amiss to be cheerful. 

As for Sir John, he sat at dinner and gobbled and ate and drank, smacking his lips all the while, but with hardly a word of civilityeither to Mr. Greenfield or to Mrs. Greenfield or to Barnaby True; butwearing all the while a dull, sullen air, as though he would say, "Yourdamned victuals and drink are no better than they should be, but, suchas they are, I must eat 'em or eat nothing. "

It was only after dinner was over and the young lady and the two missesoff in a corner together that Barnaby heard her talk with any degree ofease. Then, to be sure, her tongue became loose enough, and sheprattled away at a great rate; though hardly above her breath. Then ofa sudden her grand-father called out, in his hoarse, rattling voice, that it was time to go, upon which she stopped short in what she wassaying and jumped up from her chair, looking as frightened as though hewere going to strike her with that gold-headed cane of his that healways carried with him. 

Barnaby True and Mr. Greenfield both went out to see the two into theircoach, where Sir John's man stood holding the lantern. And who shouldhe be, to be sure, but that same lean villain with bald head who hadoffered to shoot the Captain of Barnaby's expedition out on the harborthat night! For one of the circles of light shining up into his face, Barnaby True knew him the moment he clapped eyes upon him. Though hecould not have recognized our hero, he grinned at him in the mostimpudent, familiar fashion, and never so much as touched his hat eitherto him or to Mr. Greenfield; but as soon as his master and his youngmistress had entered the coach, banged to the door and scrambled up onthe seat alongside the driver, and so away without a word, but withanother impudent grin, this time favoring both Barnaby and the oldgentleman. 

Such were Sir John Malyoe and his man, and the ill opinion our heroconceived of them was only confirmed by further observation. 

The next day Sir John Malyoe's travelling-cases began to come aboardthe _Belle Helen_, and in the afternoon that same lean, villanousman-servant comes skipping across the gangplank as nimble as a goat, withtwo black men behind him lugging a great sea-chest. "What!" he criesout, "and so you is the supercargo, is you? Why, to be sure, I thoughtyou was more account when I saw you last night a-sitting talking withhis honor like his equal. Well, no matter, " says he, "'tis something tohave a brisk, genteel young fellow for a supercargo. So come, myhearty, lend a hand and help me set his honor's cabin to rights. "

What a speech was this to endure from such a fellow! What with ourhero's distaste for the villain, and what with such odious familiarity, you may guess into what temper so impudent an address must have casthim. Says he, "You'll find the steward in yonder, and he'll show youthe cabin Sir John is to occupy. " Therewith he turned and walked awaywith prodigious dignity, leaving the other standing where he was. 

As he went below to his own state-room he could not but see, out of thetail of his eye, that the fellow was still standing where he had lefthim, regarding him with a most evil, malevolent countenance, so that hehad the satisfaction of knowing that he had an enemy aboard for thatvoyage who was not very likely to forgive or forget what he must regardas so mortifying a slight as that which Barnaby had put upon him. 

The next day Sir John Malyoe himself came aboard, accompanied by hisgranddaughter, and followed by his man, and he followed again by fourblack men, who carried among them two trunks, not large in size, butvastly heavy in weight. Towards these two trunks Sir John and hisfollower devoted the utmost solicitude and care to see that they wereproperly carried into the cabin he was to occupy. Barnaby True wasstanding in the saloon as they passed close by him; but though Sir Johnlooked hard at him and straight in the face, he never so much as spokea single word to our hero, or showed by a look or a sign that he hadever met him before. At this the serving-man, who saw it all with eyesas quick as a cat's, fell to grinning and chuckling to see Barnaby inhis turn so slighted. 

The young lady, who also saw it, blushed as red as fire, and thereupondelivered a courtesy to poor Barnaby, with a most sweet and graciousaffability. 

There were, besides Sir John and the young lady, but two otherpassengers who upon this occasion took the voyage to New York: theReverend Simon Styles, master of a flourishing academy at Spanish Town, and his wife. This was a good, worthy couple of an extremely quietdisposition, saying little or nothing, but contented to sit in thegreat cabin by the hour together reading in some book or other. So, what with the retiring humor of the worthy pair, and what with Sir JohnMalyoe's fancy for staying all the time shut up in his own cabin withthose two trunks he held so precious, it fell upon Barnaby True ingreat part to show that attention to the young lady that thecircumstances demanded. This he did with a great deal of satisfactionto himself--as any one may suppose who considers a spirited young manof one-and-twenty years of age and a sweet and beautiful young miss ofseventeen or eighteen thrown thus together day after day for above twoweeks. 

Accordingly, the weather being very fair and the ship driving freelyalong before a fine breeze, and they having no other occupation than tosit talking together all day, gazing at the blue sea and the bright skyoverhead, it is not difficult to conceive of what was to befall. 

But oh, those days when a man is young and, whether wisely or no, fallen into such a transport of passion as poor Barnaby True sufferedat that time! How often during that voyage did our hero lie awake inhis berth at night, tossing this way and that without finding anyrefreshment of sleep--perhaps all because her hand had touched his, orbecause she had spoken some word to him that had possessed him with aravishing disquietude?

All this might not have befallen him had Sir John Malyoe looked afterhis granddaughter instead of locking himself up day and night in hisown cabin, scarce venturing out except to devour his food or maybe totake two or three turns across the deck before returning again to thecare of those chests he appeared to hold so much more precious than hisown flesh and blood. 

Nor was it to be supposed that Barnaby would take the pains to considerwhat was to become of it all, for what young man so situated as he butwould be perfectly content to live so agreeably in a fool's paradise, satisfying himself by assigning the whole affair to the future to takecare of itself. Accordingly, our hero endeavored, and with pretty goodsuccess, to put away from him whatever doubts might arise in his ownmind concerning what he was about, satisfying himself with making hisconversation as agreeable to his companion as it lay in his power todo. 

So the affair continued until the end of the whole business came with asuddenness that promised for a time to cast our hero into the utmostdepths of humiliation and despair. 

At that time the _Belle Helen_ was, according to Captain Manly'sreckoning, computed that day at noon, bearing about five-and-fiftyleagues northeast-by-east off the harbor of Charleston, in SouthCarolina. 

Nor was our hero likely to forget for many years afterwards even thesmallest circumstance of that occasion. He may remember that it was amightily sweet, balmy evening, the sun not having set above half anhour before, and the sky still suffused with a good deal of brightness, the air being extremely soft and mild. He may remember with the utmostnicety how they were leaning over the rail of the vessel looking outtowards the westward, she fallen mightily quiet as though occupied withvery serious thoughts. 

Of a sudden she began, without any preface whatever, to speak toBarnaby about herself and her affairs, in a most confidential manner, such as she had never used to him before. She told him that she and hergrandfather were going to New York that they might take passage thenceto Boston, in Massachusetts, where they were to meet her cousin CaptainMalyoe, who was stationed in garrison at that place. Continuing, shesaid that Captain Malyoe was the next heir to the Devonshire estate, and that she and he were to be married in the fall. 

You may conceive into what a confusion of distress such a confession asthis, delivered so suddenly, must have cast poor Barnaby. He couldanswer her not a single word, but stood staring in another directionthan hers, endeavoring to compose himself into some equanimity ofspirit. For indeed it was a sudden, terrible blow, and his breath cameas hot and dry as ashes in his throat. Meanwhile the young lady went onto say, though in a mightily constrained voice, that she had liked himfrom the very first moment she had seen him, and had been very happyfor these days she had passed in his society, and that she would alwaysthink of him as a dear friend who had been very kind to her, who had solittle pleasure in her life. 

At last Barnaby made shift to say, though in a hoarse and croakingvoice, that Captain Malyoe must be a very happy man, and that if hewere in Captain Malyoe's place he would be the happiest man in theworld. Thereupon, having so found his voice, he went on to tell her, though in a prodigious confusion and perturbation of spirit, that hetoo loved her, and that what she had told him struck him to the heart, and made him the most miserable, unhappy wretch in the whole world. 

She exhibited no anger at what he said, nor did she turn to look athim, but only replied, in a low voice, that he should not talk so, forthat it could only be a pain to them both to speak of such things, andthat whether she would or no, she must do everything her grandfatherbade her, he being indeed a terrible man. 

To this poor Barnaby could only repeat that he loved her with all hisheart, that he had hoped for nothing in his love, but that he was nowthe most miserable man in the world. 

It was at this moment, so momentous to our hero, that some one who hadbeen hiding unseen nigh them for all the while suddenly moved away, andBarnaby, in spite of the gathering darkness, could perceive that it wasthat villain man-servant of Sir John Malyoe's. Nor could he but knowthat the wretch must have overheard all that had been said. 

As he looked he beheld this fellow go straight to the great cabin, where he disappeared with a cunning leer upon his face, so that ourhero could not but be aware that the purpose of the eavesdropper mustbe to communicate all that he had overheard to his master. At thisthought the last drop of bitterness was added to his trouble, for whatcould be more distressing to any man of honor than to possess theconsciousness that such a wretch should have overheard so sacred aconversation as that which he had enjoyed with the young lady. She, upon her part, could not have been aware that the man had listened towhat she had been saying, for she still continued leaning over therail, and Barnaby remained standing by her side, without moving, but sodistracted by a tumult of many passions that he knew not how or whereto look. 

After a pretty long time of this silence, the young lady looked up tosee why her companion had not spoken for so great a while, and at thatvery moment Sir John Malyoe comes flinging out of the cabin without hishat, but carrying his gold-headed cane. He ran straight across the decktowards where Barnaby and the young lady stood, swinging his cane thisway and that with a most furious and threatening countenance, while theinformer, grinning like an ape, followed close at his heels. As SirJohn approached them, he cried out in so loud a voice that all on deckmight have heard him, "You hussy!" (And all the time, you are toremember, he was swinging his cane as though he would have struck theyoung lady, who, upon her part, shrank back from him almost upon thedeck as though to escape such a blow. ) "You hussy! What do you do here, talking with a misbred Yankee supercargo not fit for a gentlewoman towipe her feet upon, and you stand there and listen to his fool talk! Goto your room, you hussy"--only 'twas something worse he called her thistime--"before I lay this cane across you!"

You may suppose into what fury such words as these, spoken in Barnaby'shearing, not to mention that vile slur set upon himself, must have castour hero. To be sure he scarcely knew what he did, but he put his handagainst Sir John Malyoe's breast and thrust him back most violently, crying out upon him at the same time for daring so to threaten a younglady, and that for a farthing he would wrench the stick out of his handand throw it overboard. 

A little farther and Sir John would have fallen flat upon the deck withthe push Barnaby gave him. But he contrived, by catching hold of therail, to save his balance. Whereupon, having recovered himself, he camerunning at our hero like a wild beast, whirling his cane about, and Ido believe would have struck him (and God knows then what might havehappened) had not his man-servant caught him and held him back. 

"Keep back!" cried out our hero, still mighty hoarse. "Keep back! Ifyou strike me with that stick I'll fling you overboard!"

By this time, what with the sound of loud voices and the stamping offeet, some of the crew and others aboard were hurrying up to the sceneof action. At the same time Captain Manly and the first mate, Mr. Freesden, came running out of the cabin. As for our hero, having gotset agoing, he was not to be stopped so easily. 

"And who are you, anyhow, " he cries, his voice mightily hoarse even inhis own ears, "to threaten to strike me! You may be a bloody pirate, and you may shoot a man from behind, as you shot poor Captain Brand onthe Cobra River, but you won't dare strike me face to face. I know whoyou are and what you are!"

As for Sir John Malyoe, had he been struck of a sudden by palsy, hecould not have stopped more dead short in his attack upon our hero. There he stood, his great, bulging eyes staring like those of a fish, his face as purple as a cherry. As for Master Informer, Barnaby had thesatisfaction of seeing that he had stopped his grinning by now and washolding his master's arm as though to restrain him from any further actof violence. 

By this time Captain Manly had come bustling up and demanded to knowwhat all the disturbance meant. Whereupon our hero cried out, still inthe extremity of passion:

"The villain insulted me and insulted the young lady; he threatened tostrike me with his cane. But he sha'n't strike me. I know who he is andwhat he is. I know what he's got in his cabin in those two trunks, andI know where he found it, and whom it belongs to. "

At this Captain Manly clapped his hand upon our hero's shoulder andfell to shaking him so that he could hardly stand, crying out to himthe while to be silent. Says he: "How do you dare, an officer of thisship, to quarrel with a passenger of mine! Go straight to your cabin, and stay there till I give you leave to come out again. "

At this Master Barnaby came somewhat back to himself. "But hethreatened to strike me with his cane, " he says, "and that I won'tstand from any man!"

"No matter for that, " says Captain Manly, very sternly. "Go to yourcabin, as I bid you, and stay there till I tell you to come out again, and when we get to New York I'll take pains to inform your step-fatherof how you have behaved. I'll have no such rioting as this aboard myship. "

By this time, as you may suppose, the young lady was gone. As for SirJohn Malyoe, he stood in the light of a lantern, his face that had beenso red now gone as white as ashes, and if a look could kill, to be surehe would have destroyed Barnaby True where he stood. 

It was thus that the events of that memorable day came to a conclusion. How little did any of the actors of the scene suspect that a portentousFate was overhanging them, and was so soon to transform all theirpresent circumstances into others that were to be perfectly different!

And how little did our hero suspect what was in store for him upon themorrow, as with hanging head he went to his cabin, and shutting thedoor upon himself, and flinging himself down upon his berth, thereyielded himself over to the profoundest depths of humiliation anddespair. 

V

From his melancholy meditations Barnaby, by-and-by and in spite ofhimself, began dropping off into a loose slumber, disturbed byextravagant dreams of all sorts, in which Sir John Malyoe played someimportant and malignant part. 

From one of these dreams he was aroused to meet a new and startlingfate, by hearing the sudden and violent explosion of a pistol-shot ringout as though in his ears. This was followed immediately by the soundof several other shots exchanged in rapid succession as coming from thedeck above. At the same instant a blow of such excessive violence shookthe _Belle Helen_ that the vessel heeled over before it, and Barnabywas at once aware that another craft--whether by accident or withintention he did not know--must have run afoul of them. 

Upon this point, and as to whether or not the collision was designed, he was, however, not left a moment in doubt, for even as the _BelleHelen_ righted to her true keel, there was the sound of many footstepsrunning across the deck and down into the great cabin. Then proceeded aprodigious uproar of voices, together with the struggling of men'sbodies being tossed about, striking violently against the partitionsand bulkheads. At the same instant arose a screaming of women's voices, and one voice, that of Sir John Malyoe, crying out as in the greatestextremity: "You villains! You damned villains!" and with that thesudden detonation of a pistol fired into the close space of the greatcabin. 

Long before this time Barnaby was out in the middle of his own cabin. Taking only sufficient time to snatch down one of the pistols that hungat the head of his berth, he flung out into the great cabin, to find itas black as night, the lantern slung there having been either blown outor dashed out into darkness. All was as black as coal, and the gloomwas filled with a hubbub of uproar and confusion, above which soundedcontinually the shrieking of women's voices. Nor had our hero takenabove a couple of steps before he pitched headlong over two or threemen struggling together upon the deck, falling with a great clatter andthe loss of his pistol, which, however, he regained almost immediately. 

What all the uproar portended he could only guess, but presentlyhearing Captain Manly's voice calling out, "You bloody pirate, wouldyou choke me to death?" he became immediately aware of what hadbefallen the _Belle Helen_, and that they had been attacked by some ofthose buccaneers who at that time infested the waters of America inprodigious numbers. 

It was with this thought in his mind that, looking towards thecompanionway, he beheld, outlined against the darkness of the nightwithout, the form of a man's figure, standing still and motionless as astatue in the midst of all this tumult, and thereupon, as by someinstinct, knew that that must be the master-maker of all this devil'sbrew. Therewith, still kneeling upon the deck, he covered the bosom ofthat figure point-blank, as he supposed, with his pistol, and instantlypulled the trigger. 

In the light of the pistol fire, Barnaby had only sufficientopportunity to distinguish a flat face wearing a large pair ofmustachios, a cocked hat trimmed with gold lace, a red scarf, and brassbuttons. Then the darkness, very thick and black, again swallowedeverything. 

But if our hero failed to clearly perceive the countenance towardswhich he had discharged his weapon, there was one who appeared to haverecognized some likeness in it, for Sir John Malyoe's voice, almost atBarnaby's elbow, cried out thrice in loud and violent tones, "WilliamBrand! William Brand! William Brand!" and thereat came the sound ofsome heavy body falling down upon the deck. 

This was the last that our hero may remember of that notable attack, for the next moment whether by accident or design he never knew, hefelt himself struck so terrible a blow upon the side of the head, thathe instantly swooned dead away and knew no more. 

VI

When Barnaby True came back to his senses again, it was to become awarethat he was being cared for with great skill and nicety, that his headhad been bathed with cold water, and that a bandage was being boundabout it as carefully as though a chirurgeon was attending to him. 

He had been half conscious of people about him, but could notimmediately recall what had happened to him, nor until he had openedhis eyes to find himself in a perfectly strange cabin of narrowdimensions but extremely well fitted and painted with white and gold. By the light of a lantern shining in his eyes, together with the grayof the early day through the deadlight, he could perceive that two menwere bending over him--one, a negro in a striped shirt, with a yellowhandkerchief around his head and silver ear-rings in his ears; theother, a white man, clad in a strange, outlandish dress of a foreignmake, with great mustachios hanging down below his chin, and with goldear-rings in his ears. 

It was this last who was attending to Barnaby's hurt with such extremecare and gentleness. 

All this Barnaby saw with his first clear consciousness after hisswoon. Then remembering what had befallen him, and his head beating asthough it would split asunder, he shut his eyes again, contriving withgreat effort to keep himself from groaning aloud, and wondering as towhat sort of pirates these could be, who would first knock a man in thehead so terrible a blow as that which he had suffered, and then takesuch care to fetch him back to life again, and to make him easy andcomfortable. 

Nor did he open his eyes again, but lay there marvelling thus until thebandage was properly tied about his head and sewed together. Then oncemore he opened his eyes and looked up to ask where he was. 

Upon hearing him speak, his attendants showed excessive signs of joy, nodding their heads and smiling at him as though to reassure him. Buteither because they did not choose to reply, or else because they couldnot speak English, they made no answer, excepting by those signs andgestures. The white man, however, made several motions that our herowas to arise, and, still grinning and nodding his head, pointed asthough towards a saloon beyond. At the same time the negro held up ourhero's coat and beckoned for him to put it on. Accordingly Barnaby, seeing that it was required of him to quit the place in which he thenlay, arose, though with a good deal of effort, and permitted the negroto help him on with his coat, though feeling mightily dizzy and muchput about to keep upon his legs--his head beating fit to split asunderand the vessel rolling and pitching at a great rate, as though upon aheavy cross-sea. 

So, still sick and dizzy, he went out into what he found was, indeed, afine saloon beyond, painted in white and gilt like the cabin he hadjust quitted. This saloon was fitted in the most excellent tasteimaginable. A table extended the length of the room, and a quantity ofbottles, and glasses clear as crystal, were arranged in rows in ahanging rack above. 

But what most attracted our hero's attention was a man sitting with hisback to him, his figure clad in a rough pea-jacket, and with a redhandkerchief tied around his throat. His feet were stretched under thetable out before him, and he was smoking a pipe of tobacco with all theease and comfort imaginable. As Barnaby came in he turned round, and, to the profound astonishment of our hero, presented to him in the lightof the lantern, the dawn shining pretty strong through the skylight, the face of that very man who had conducted the mysterious expeditionthat night across Kingston Harbor to the Cobra River. 

VII

This man looked steadily at Barnaby True for above half a minute andthen burst out a-laughing. And, indeed, Barnaby, standing there withthe bandage about his head, must have looked a very droll picture ofthat astonishment he felt so profoundly at finding who was this pirateinto whose hands he had fallen. "Well, " says the other, "and so you beup at last, and no great harm done, I'll be bound. And how does yourhead feel by now, my young master?"

To this Barnaby made no reply, but, what with wonder and the dizzinessof his head, seated himself at the table over against his interlocutor, who pushed a bottle of rum towards him, together with a glass from thehanging rack. He watched Barnaby fill his glass, and so soon as he haddone so began immediately by saying: "I do suppose you think you weretreated mightily ill to be so handled last night. Well, so you weretreated ill enough, though who hit you that crack upon the head I knowno more than a child unborn. Well, I am sorry for the way you werehandled, but there is this much to say, and of that you may feel wellassured, that nothing was meant to you but kindness, and before you arethrough with us all you will believe that without my having to tell youso. "

Here he helped himself to a taste of grog, and sucking in his lips wenton again with what he had to say. "Do you remember, " says he, "thatexpedition of ours in Kingston Harbor, and how we were all of us balkedthat night?" then, without waiting for Barnaby's reply: "And do youremember what I said to that villain Jack Malyoe that night as his boatwent by us? I says to him, 'Jack Malyoe, ' says I, 'you've got thebetter of us once again, but next time it will be our turn, even ifWilliam Brand himself has to come back from the grave to settle withyou. '"

"I remember something of the sort, " said Barnaby, "but I profess I amall in the dark as to what you are driving at. "

At this the other burst out in a great fit of laughing. "Very well, then, " said he, "this night's work is only the ending of what was soill begun there. Look yonder"--pointing to a corner of the cabin--"andthen maybe you will be in the dark no longer. " Barnaby turned his headand there beheld in the corner of the saloon those very twotravelling-cases that Sir John Malyoe had been so particular to keep in hiscabin and under his own eyes through all the voyage from Jamaica. 

"I'll show you what is in 'em, " says the other, and thereupon arose, and Barnaby with him, and so went over to where the twotravelling-cases stood. 

Our hero had a strong enough suspicion as to what the cases contained. But, Lord! what were suspicions to what his two eyes beheld when thatman lifted the lid of one of them--the locks thereof having alreadybeen forced--and, flinging it back, displayed to Barnaby's astonishedand bedazzled sight a great treasure of gold and silver, some of ittied up in leathern bags, to be sure, but so many of the coins, big andlittle, yellow and white, lying loose in the cases as to make our herothink that a great part of the treasures of the Indies lay there beforehim. 

"Well, and what do you think of that?" said the other. "Is it notenough for a man to turn pirate for?" and thereupon burst outa-laughing and clapped down the lid again. Then suddenly turning serious:"Come Master Barnaby, " says he. "I am to have some very sober talk withyou, so fill up your glass again and then we will heave at it. "

Nor even in after years, nor in the light of that which afterwardsoccurred, could Barnaby repeat all that was said to him upon thatoccasion, for what with the pounding and beating of his aching head, and what with the wonder of what he had seen, he was altogether in thedark as to the greater part of what the other told him. That otherbegan by saying that Barnaby, instead of being sorry that he wasWilliam Brand's grandson, might thank God for it; that he (Barnaby) hadbeen watched and cared for for twenty years in more ways than he wouldever know; that Sir John Malyoe had been watched also for all thatwhile, and that it was a vastly strange thing that Sir John Malyoe'sdebts in England and Barnaby's coming of age should have brought themso together in Jamaica--though, after all, it was all for the best, asBarnaby himself should presently see, and thank God for that also. Fornow all the debts against that villain Jack Malyoe were settled infull, principal and interest, to the last penny, and Barnaby was toenjoy it the most of all. Here the fellow took a very comfortable sipof his grog, and then went on to say with a very cunning and knowingwink of the eye that Barnaby was not the only passenger aboard, butthat there was another in whose company he would be glad enough, nodoubt, to finish the balance of the voyage he was now upon. So now, ifBarnaby was sufficiently composed, he should be introduced to thatother passenger. Thereupon, without waiting for a reply, heincontinently arose and, putting away the bottle of rum and theglasses, went across the saloon--Barnaby watching him all the whilelike a man in a dream--and opened the door of a cabin like that whichBarnaby had occupied a little while before. He was gone only for amoment, for almost immediately he came out again ushering a lady beforehim. 

By now the daylight in the cabin was grown strong and clear, so thatthe light shining full upon her face, Barnaby True knew her the instantshe appeared. 

It was Miss Marjorie Malyoe, very white, but strangely composed, showing no terror, either in her countenance or in her expression. 

 * * * * *

It would not be possible for the writer to give any clear idea of thecircumstances of the days that immediately followed, and which, withina week, brought Barnaby True and the enchanting object of hisaffections at once to the ending of their voyage, and of all thesemarvellous adventures. For when, in after times, our hero wouldendeavor to revive a memory of the several occurrences that thentranspired, they all appeared as though in a dream or a bewitchingphantasm. 

All that he could recall were long days of delicious enjoyment followedby nights of dreaming. But how enchanting those days! How exquisite thedistraction of those nights!

Upon occasions he and his charmer might sit together under the shade ofthe sail for an hour at a stretch, he holding her hand in his andneither saying a single word, though at times the transports of poorBarnaby's emotions would go far to suffocate him with their rapture. Asfor her face at such moments, it appeared sometimes to assume atransparency as though of a light shining from behind her countenance. 

The vessel in which they found themselves was a brigantine of good sizeand build, but manned by a considerable crew, the most strange andoutlandish in their appearance that Barnaby had ever beheld. For somewere white, some were yellow, and some were black, and all were trickedout with gay colors, and gold ear-rings in their ears, and some withlong mustachios, and others with handkerchiefs tied around their heads. And all these spoke together a jargon of which Barnaby True could notunderstand a single word, but which might have been Portuguese from oneor two phrases he afterwards remembered. Nor did this outlandish crew, of God knows what sort of men, address any of their conversation eitherto Barnaby or to the young lady. They might now and then have looked athim and her out of the corners of their yellow eyes, but that was all;otherwise they were, indeed, like the creatures of a dream. Only he whowas commander of this strange craft, when he would come down into thesaloon to mix a glass of grog or to light a pipe of tobacco, wouldmaybe favor Barnaby with a few words concerning the weather orsomething of the sort, and then to go on deck again about his business. 

Indeed, it may be affirmed with pretty easy security that no suchadventure as this ever happened before; for here were these twoinnocent young creatures upon board of a craft that no one, under suchcircumstances as those recounted above, could doubt was a pirate orbuccaneer, the crew whereof had seen no one knows what wicked deeds;yet they two as remote from all that and as profoundly occupied withthe transports of their passion and as innocent in their satisfactionthereof as were Corydon and Phyllis beside their purling streams andflowery meads, with nymphs and satyrs caracoling about them. 

VIII

It is probable that the polite reader of this veracious narrative, instead of considering it as the effort of the author to set before hima sober and well-digested history, has been all this while amusinghimself by regarding it only as a fanciful tale designed for hisentertainment. If this be so, the writer may hardly hope to convincehim that what is to follow is a serious narrative of that which, thoughnever so ingenuous in its recapitulation, is an altogether inexplicablephenomenon. Accordingly, it is with extraordinary hesitation that thescribe now invites the confidence of his reader in the succinct truthof that which he has to relate. It is in brief as follows:

That upon the last night of this part of his voyage, Barnaby True wasawakened from slumber by flashes of lightning shining into his cabin, and by the loud pealing of approaching thunder. At the same timeobserving the sound of footsteps moving back and forth as in greatagitation overhead, and the loud shouting of orders, he became awarethat a violent squall of wind must be approaching the vessel. Beingconvinced of this he arose from his berth, dressed quickly, and hurriedupon deck, where he found a great confusion of men running hither andthither and scrambling up and down the rigging like monkeys, while theCaptain, and one whom he had come to know as the Captain's mate, wereshouting out orders in a strange foreign jargon. 

A storm was indeed approaching with great rapidity, a prodigious circleof rain and clouds whirling overhead like smoke, while the lightning, every now and then, flashed with intense brightness, followed by loudpeals of thunder. 

By these flashes of lightning Barnaby observed that they had made landduring the night, for in the sudden glare of bright light he beheld amountainous headland and a long strip of sandy beach standing outagainst the blackness of the night beyond. So much he was able todistinguish, though what coast it might be he could not tell, forpresently another flash falling from the sky, he saw that the shore wasshut out by the approaching downfall of rain. 

This rain came presently streaming down upon them with a great gust ofwind and a deal of white foam across the water. This violent gale ofwind suddenly striking the vessel, careened it to one side so that fora moment it was with much ado that he was able to keep his feet at all. Indeed, what with the noise of the tempest through the rigging and theflashes of lightning and the pealing of the thunder and the clapping ofan unfurled sail in the darkness, and the shouting of orders in astrange language by the Captain of the craft, who was running up anddown like a bedlamite, it was like pandemonium with all the devils ofthe pit broke loose into the night. 

It was at this moment, and Barnaby True was holding to the back-stays, when a sudden, prolonged flash of lightning came after a continuedspace of darkness. So sharp and heavy was this shaft that for a momentthe night was as bright as day, and in that instant occurred that whichwas so remarkable that it hath afforded the title of this story itself. For there, standing plain upon the deck and not far from thecompanionway, as though he had just come up from below, our hero behelda figure the face of which he had seen so imperfectly once before bythe flash of his own pistol in the darkness. Upon this occasion, however, the whole figure was stamped out with intense sharpnessagainst the darkness, and Barnaby beheld, as clear as day, a greatburly man, clad in a tawdry tinsel coat, with a cocked hat with goldbraid upon his head. His legs, with petticoat breeches and cased ingreat leathern sea-boots pulled up to his knees, stood planted wideapart as though to brace against the slant of the deck. The face ourhero beheld to be as white as dough, with fishy eyes and a bonyforehead, on the side of which was a great smear as of blood. 

All this, as was said, stood out as sharp and clear as daylight in thatone flash of lightning, and then upon the instant was gone again, asthough swallowed up into the darkness, while a terrible clap of thunderseemed to split the very heavens overhead and a strong smell as ofbrimstone filled the air around about. 

At the same moment some voice cried out from the darkness, "WilliamBrand, by God!"

Then, the rain clapping down in a deluge, Barnaby leaped into thesaloon, pursued by he knew not what thoughts. For if that was indeedthe image of old William Brand that he had seen once before and nowagain, then the grave must indeed have gaped and vomited out its deadinto the storm of wind and lightning; for what he beheld that moment, he hath ever averred, he saw as clear as ever he saw his hand beforehis face. 

This is the last account of which there is any record when the figureof Captain William Brand was beheld by the eyes of a living man. Itmust have occurred just off the Highlands below the Sandy Hook, for thenext morning when Barnaby True came upon deck it was to find the sunshining brightly and the brigantine riding upon an even keel, at anchoroff Staten Island, three or four cable-lengths distance from a smallvillage on the shore, and the town of New York in plain sight acrossthe water. 

'Twas the last place in the world he had expected to see. 

IX

And, indeed, it did seem vastly strange to lie there alongside StatenIsland all that day, with New York town in plain sight across the waterand yet so impossible to reach. For whether he desired to escape or no, Barnaby True could not but observe that both he and the young lady wereso closely watched that they might as well have been prisoners, tiedhand and foot and laid in the hold, so far as any hope of getting awaywas concerned. 

Throughout that day there was a vast deal of mysterious coming andgoing aboard the brigantine, and in the afternoon a sail-boat went upto the town, carrying the Captain of the brigantine and a great load inthe stern covered over with a tarpaulin. What was so taken up to thetown Barnaby did not then guess, nor did he for a moment suspect ofwhat vast importance it was to be for him. 

About sundown the small boat returned, fetching the pirate Captain ofthe brigantine back again. Coming aboard and finding Barnaby on deck, the other requested him to come down into the saloon for he had a fewserious words to say to him. In the saloon they found the young ladysitting, the broad light of the evening shining in through theskylight, and making it all pretty bright within. 

The Captain commanded Barnaby to be seated, whereupon he chose a placealongside the young lady. So soon as he had composed himself theCaptain began very seriously, with a preface somewhat thus: "Though youmay think me the Captain of this brigantine, Master Barnaby True, I amnot really so, but am under orders of a superior whom I have obeyed inall these things that I have done. " Having said so much as this, hecontinued his address to say that there was one thing yet remaining forhim to do, and that the greatest thing of all. 

He said that this was something that both Barnaby and the young ladywere to be called upon to perform, and he hoped that they would dotheir part willingly; but that whether they did it willingly or no, doit they must, for those also were the orders he had received. 

You may guess how our hero was disturbed by this prologue. He had foundthe young lady's hand beneath the table and he now held it very closelyin his own; but whatever might have been his expectations as to thefinal purport of the communications the other was about to favor himwith, his most extreme expectations could not have equalled that whichwas demanded of him. 

"My orders are these, " said his interlocutor, continuing: "I am to takeyou and the young lady ashore, and to see that you are married before Iquit you, and to that end a very good, decent, honest minister wholives ashore yonder in the village was chosen and hath been spoken to, and is now, no doubt, waiting for you to come. That is the last thing Iam set to do; so now I will leave you and her young ladyship alonetogether for five minutes to talk it over, but be quick about it, forwhether willing or not, this thing must be done. "

Thereupon he incontinently went away, as he had promised, leaving thosetwo alone together, our hero like one turned into stone, and the younglady, her face turned away, as red as fire, as Barnaby could easilydistinguish by the fading light. 

Nor can I tell what Barnaby said to her, nor what words or arguments heused, for so great was the distraction of his mind and the tumult ofhis emotions that he presently discovered that he was repeating to herover and over again that God knew he loved her, and that with all hisheart and soul, and that there was nothing in all the world for him buther. After which, containing himself sufficiently to continue hisaddress, he told her that if she would not have it as the man had said, and if she were not willing to marry him as she was bidden to do, hewould rather die a thousand, aye, ten thousand, deaths than lendhimself to forcing her to do such a thing as this. Nevertheless, hetold her she must speak up and tell him yes or no, and that God knew hewould give all the world if she would say "yes. "

All this and much more he said in such a tumult that he was hardlyaware of what he was speaking, and she sitting there, as though herbreath stifled her. Nor did he know what she replied to him, only thatshe would marry him. Therewith he took her into his arms and for thefirst time set his lips to hers, in such a transport of ecstasy thateverything seemed to his sight as though he were about to swoon. 

So when the Captain returned to the saloon he found Barnaby sittingthere holding her hand, she with her face turned away, and he so fullof joy that the promise of heaven could not have made him happier. 

The yawl-boat belonging to the brigantine was ready and waitingalongside when they came upon deck, and immediately they descended toit and took their seats. Reaching the shore, they landed, and walked upthe village street in the twilight, she clinging to our hero's arm asthough she would faint away. The Captain of the brigantine and twoother men aboard accompanied them to the minister's house, where theyfound the good man waiting for them, smoking his pipe in the warmevening, and walking up and down in front of his own door. Heimmediately conducted them into the house, where, his wife havingfetched a candle, and two others from the village being present, thegood, pious man having asked several questions as to their names andtheir age and where they were from, and having added his blessing, theceremony was performed, and the certificate duly signed by thosepresent from the village--the men who had come ashore from thebrigantine alone refusing to set their hands to any paper. 

The same sail-boat that had taken the Captain up to the town waswaiting for Barnaby and the young lady as they came down to thelanding-place. There the Captain of the brigantine having wished themgodspeed, and having shaken Barnaby very heartily by the hand, hehelped to push off the boat, which with the slant of the wind presentlysailed swiftly away, dropping the shore and those strange beings, andthe brigantine in which they sailed, alike behind them into the night. 

They could hear through the darkness the creaking of the sails beinghoisted aboard of the pirate vessel; nor did Barnaby True ever set eyesupon it or the crew again, nor, so far as the writer is informed, didanybody else. 

X

It was nigh midnight when they made Mr. Hartright's wharf at the footof Beaver Street. There Barnaby and the boatmen assisted the young ladyashore, and our hero and she walked up through the now silent anddeserted street to Mr. Hartright's house. 

You may conceive of the wonder and amazement of our hero's dearstep-father when aroused by Barnaby's continued knocking at the streetdoor, and clad in a dressing-gown and carrying a lighted candle in hishand, he unlocked and unbarred the door, and so saw who it was had arousedhim at such an hour of the night, and beheld the young and beautifullady whom Barnaby had brought home with him. 

The first thought of the good man was that the _Belle Helen_ had comeinto port; nor did Barnaby undeceive him as he led the way into thehouse, but waited until they were all safe and sound together before heshould unfold his strange and wonderful story. 

"This was left for you by two foreign sailors this afternoon, Barnaby, "the good man said, as he led the way through the hall, holding up thecandle at the same time, so that Barnaby might see an object that stoodagainst the wainscoting by the door of the dining-room. 

It was with difficulty that our hero could believe his eyes when hebeheld one of the treasure-chests that Sir John Malyoe had fetched withsuch particularity from Jamaica. 

He bade his step-father hold the light nigher, and then, his motherhaving come down-stairs by this time, he flung back the lid anddisplayed to the dazzled sight of all the great treasure thereincontained. 

You are to suppose that there was no sleep for any of them that night, for what with Barnaby's narrative of his adventures, and what with thethousand questions asked of him, it was broad daylight before he hadfinished the half of all that he had to relate. 

The next day but one brought the _Belle Helen_ herself into port, withthe terrible news not only of having been attacked at night by pirates, but also that Sir John Malyoe was dead. For whether it was the suddenfright that overset him, or whether it was the strain of passion thatburst some blood-vessel upon his brain, it is certain that when thepirates quitted the _Belle Helen_, carrying with them the young ladyand Barnaby and the travelling-trunks, they left Sir John Malyoe lyingin a fit upon the floor, frothing at the mouth and black in the face, as though he had been choked. It was in this condition that he wasraised and taken to his berth, where, the next morning about twoo'clock, he died, without once having opened his eyes or spoken asingle word. 

As for the villain man-servant, no one ever saw him afterwards; thoughwhether he jumped overboard, or whether the pirates who so attacked theship had carried him away bodily, who shall say?

Mr. Hartright had been extremely perplexed as to the ownership of thechest of treasure that had been left by those men for Barnaby, but thenews of the death of Sir John Malyoe made the matter very easy for himto decide. For surely if that treasure did not belong to Barnaby, therecould be no doubt but that it belonged to his wife--she being Sir JohnMalyoe's legal heir. Thus it was that he satisfied himself, and thusthat great fortune (in actual computation amounting to upward ofsixty-three thousand pounds) fell to Barnaby True, the grandson of thatfamous pirate William Brand. 

As for the other case of treasure, it was never heard of again, norcould Barnaby decide whether it was divided as booty among the pirates, or whether they had carried it away with them to some strange andforeign land, there to share it among themselves. 

It is thus we reach the conclusion of our history, with only this toobserve, that whether that strange appearance of Captain Brand wasindeed a ghostly and spiritual visitation, or whether he was present onthose two occasions in flesh and blood, he was, as has been said, neverheard of again. 

IV. A TRUE HISTORY OF THE DEVIL AT NEW HOPE

_At the time of the beginning of the events about to be narrated--whichthe reader is to be informed occurred between the years 1740 and 1742--there stood upon the high and rugged crest of Pick-a-Neck-a-Sock Point(or Pig and Sow Point, as it had come to be called) the wooden ruins ofa disused church, known throughout those parts as the Old Free GraceMeeting-house. _

_This humble edifice had been erected by a peculiar religious sectcalling themselves the Free Grace Believers, the radical tenet of whosecreed was a denial of the existence of such a place as Hell, and anaffirmation of the universal mercy of God, to the intent that all soulsshould enjoy eternal happiness in the life to come. _

_For this dangerous heresy the Free Grace Believers were expelled fromthe Massachusetts Colony, and, after sundry peregrinations, settled atlast in the Providence Plantations, upon Pick-a-Neck-a-Sock Point, coadjacent to the town of New Hope. There they built themselves a smallcluster of huts, and a church wherein to worship; and there for a whilethey dwelt, earning a precarious livelihood from the ungenerous soilupon which they had established themselves. _

_As may be supposed, the presence of so strange a people wasentertained with no great degree of complaisance by the vicinage, andat last an old deed granting Pick-a-Neck-a-Sock to Captain IsaiahApplebody was revived by the heirs of that renowned Indian-fighter, whereupon the Free Grace Believers were warned to leave their bleak androcky refuge for some other abiding-place. Accordingly, driven forthinto the world again, they embarked in the snow[1] "Good Companion, " ofBristol, for the Province of Pennsylvania, and were afterwards heard ofno more in those parts. Their vacated houses crumbled away into ruins, and their church tottered to decay. _

[Footnote 1: A two-masted square-rigged vessel. ]

_So at the beginning of these events, upon the narrative of which theauthor now invites the reader to embark together with himself. _

I

HOW THE DEVIL HAUNTED THE MEETING-HOUSE

At the period of this narrative the settlement of New Hope had growninto a very considerable seaport town, doing an extremely handsometrade with the West Indies in cornmeal and dried codfish for sugar, molasses, and rum. 

Among the more important citizens of this now wealthy and elegantcommunity, the most notable was Colonel William Belford--a magnate atonce distinguished and honored in the civil and military affairs of thecolony. This gentleman was an illegitimate son of the Earl ofClandennie by the daughter of a surgeon of the Sixty-seventh Regimentof Scots, and he had inherited a very considerable fortune upon thedeath of his father, from which he now enjoyed a comfortablecompetency. 

Our Colonel made no little virtue of the circumstances of his exaltedbirth. He was wont to address his father's memory with a sobriety thatlent to the fact of his illegitimacy a portentous air of seriousness, and he made no secret of the fact that he was the friend and theconfidential correspondent of the present Earl of Clandennie. In hisintercourse with the several Colonial governors he assumed an attitudeof authority that only his lineage could have supported him inmaintaining, and, possessing a large and commanding presence, he borehimself with a continent reserve that never failed to inspire with awethose whom he saw fit to favor with his conversation. 

This noble and distinguished gentleman possessed in a brother an exactand perfect opposite to himself. Captain Obadiah Belford was a WestIndian, an inhabitant of Kingston in the island of Jamaica. He was acursing, swearing, hard-drinking renegado from virtue; an acknowledgeddealer in negro slaves, and reputed to have been a buccaneer, if not anout-and-out pirate, such as then infested those tropical latitudes inprodigious numbers. He was not unknown in New Hope, which he hadvisited upon several occasions for a week or so at a time. During eachperiod he lodged with his brother, whose household he scandalized bysuch freaks as smoking his pipe of tobacco in the parlor, offeringquestionable pleasantries to the female servants, and cursing andswearing in the hallways with a fecundity and an ingenuity that wouldhave put the most godless sailor about the docks to the blush. 

Accordingly, it may then be supposed into what a dismay it threwColonel Belford when one fine day he received a letter from CaptainObadiah, in which our West Indian desperado informed his brother thathe proposed quitting those torrid latitudes in which he had lived forso long a time, and that he intended thenceforth to make his home inNew Hope. 

Addressing Colonel Belford as "My dear Billy, " he called upon thatgentleman to rejoice at this determination, and informed him that heproposed in future to live "as decent a limb of grace as ever brokeloose from hell, " and added that he was going to fetch as a present forhis niece Belinda a "dam pirty little black girl" to carry herprayer-book to church for her. 

Accordingly, one fine morning, in pursuance of this promise, our WestIndian suddenly appeared at New Hope with a prodigious quantity ofchests and travelling-cases, and with so vociferous an acclamation thatall the town knew of his arrival within a half-hour of that event. 

When, however, he presented himself before Colonel Belford, it was tomeet with a welcome so frigid and an address so reserved that a doucheof cold water could not have quenched his verbosity more entirely. Forour great man had no notion to submit to the continued infliction ofthe West Indian's presence. Accordingly, after the first words ofgreeting had passed, he addressed Captain Obadiah in a strain somewhatafter this fashion:

"Indeed, I protest, my dear brother Obadiah, it is with the heartiestregrets in the world that I find myself obliged to confess that Icannot offer you a home with myself and my family. It is not alone thatyour manners displease me--though, as an elder to a younger, I may sayto you that we of these more northern latitudes do not entertain thesame tastes in such particulars as doubtless obtain in the West Indies--butthe habits of my household are of such a nature that I could nothope to form them to your liking. I can, however, offer as my advicethat you may find lodgings at the Blue Lion Tavern, which doubtlesswill be of a sort exactly to fit your inclinations. I have madeinquiries, and I am sure you will find the very best apartments to beobtained at that excellent hostelry placed at your disposal. "

To this astounding address our West Indian could, for a moment, make noother immediate reply than to open his eyes and to glare upon ColonelBelford, so that, what with his tall, lean person, his long neck, hisstooping shoulders, and his yellow face stained upon one side an indigoblue by some premature explosion of gunpowder--what with all this and aprodigious hooked beak of a nose, he exactly resembled some hungrypredatory bird of prey meditating a pounce upon an unsuspecting victim. At last, finding his voice, and rapping the ferrule of his ivory-headedcane upon the floor to emphasize his declamation, he cried out: "What!What! What! Is this the way to offer a welcome to a brother newreturned to your house? Why, ---- ----! who are you? Am not I yourbrother, who could buy you out twice over and have enough left to livein velvet? Why! Why!--Very well, then, have it your own way; but if Idon't grind your face into the mud and roll you into the dirt my nameis not Obadiah Belford!" Thereupon, striving to say more but finding nofit words for the occasion, he swung upon his heel and incontinentlydeparted, banging the door behind him like a clap of thunder, andcursing and swearing so prodigiously as he strode away down the streetthat an infernal from the pit could scarcely have exceeded the fury ofhis maledictions. 

However, he so far followed Colonel Belford's advice that he took uphis lodgings at the Blue Lion Tavern, where, in a little while, he hadgathered about him a court of all such as chose to take advantage ofhis extravagant bounty. 

Indeed, he poured out his money with incredible profusion, declaring, with many ingenious and self-consuming oaths, that he could matchfortunes with the best two men in New Hope, and then have enough leftto buy up his brother from his hair to his boot-leathers. He made nosecret of the rebuff he had sustained from Colonel Belford, for hisgrievance clung to him like hot pitch--itching the more he meddled withit. Sometimes his fury was such that he could scarcely contain himself. Upon such occasions, cursing and swearing like an infernal, he wouldcall Heaven to witness that he would live in New Hope if for no otherreason than to bring shame to his brother, and he would declare againand again, with incredible variety of expletives, that he would grindhis brother's face into the dirt for him. 

[Illustration: "HE WOULD SHOUT OPPROBRIOUS WORDS AFTER THE OTHER IN THESTREETS"]

Accordingly he set himself assiduously at work to tease and torment thegood man with every petty and malicious trick his malevolence couldinvent. He would shout opprobrious words after the other in thestreets, to the entertainment of all who heard him; he would parade upand down before Colonel Belford's house singing obstreperous andunseemly songs at the top of his voice; he would even rattle theferrule of his cane against the palings of the fence, or throw a stoneat Madam Belford's cat in the wantonness of his malice. 

Meantime he had purchased a considerable tract of land, embracing Pigand Sow Point, and including the Old Free Grace Meeting-House. Here, hedeclared, it was his intention to erect a house for himself that shouldput his brother's wooden shed to shame. Accordingly he presently beganthe erection of that edifice, so considerable in size and occupying socommanding a situation that it was the admiration of all those parts, and was known to fame as Belford's Palace. This magnificent residencewas built entirely of brick, and Captain Obadiah made it a boast thatthe material therefor was brought all the way around from New York inflats. In the erection of this elegant structure all the carpenters andmasons in the vicinage were employed, so that it grew up with anamazing rapidity. Meantime, upon the site of the building, rum andHollands were kept upon draught for all comers, so that the place wasmade the common resort and the scene for the orgies of all such of thecommon people as possessed a taste for strong waters, many coming fromso far away as Newport to enjoy our Captain's prodigality. 

Meantime he himself strutted about the streets in his red coat trimmedwith gilt braid, his hat cocked upon one side of his bony head, pleasing himself with the belief that he was the object of universaladmiration, and swelling with a vast and consummate self-satisfactionas he boasted, with strident voice and extravagant enunciation, of themagnificence of the palace he was building. 

At the same time, having, as he said, shingles to spare, he patched andrepaired the Old Free Grace Meeting-House, so that its gray and hoaryexterior, while rejuvenated as to the roof and walls, presented in alittle while an appearance as of a sudden eruption of bright yellowshingles upon its aged hide. Nor would our Captain offer any otherexplanation for so odd a freak of fancy than to say that it pleased himto do as he chose with his own. 

At last, the great house having been completed, and he himself havingentered into it and furnished it to his satisfaction, our Captainpresently began entertaining his friends therein with a profuseness ofexpenditure and an excess of extravagance that were the continuedadmiration of the whole colony. In more part the guests whom CaptainObadiah thus received with so lavish an indulgence were officers orgovernment officials from the garrisons of Newport or of Boston, withwhom, by some means or other, he had scraped an acquaintance. At timesthese gay gentlemen would fairly take possession of the town, paradingup and down the street under conduct of their host, staring ladies outof countenance with the utmost coolness and effrontery, and offeringloud and critical remarks concerning all that they beheld about them, expressing their opinions with the greatest freedom and jocularity. 

Nor were the orgies at Belford's Palace limited to such extravagancesas gaming and dicing and drinking, for sometimes the community would bescandalized by the presence of gayly dressed and high-colored ladies, who came, no one knew whence, to enjoy the convivialities at the greathouse on the hill, and concerning whom it pleased the respectable folkof New Hope to entertain the gravest suspicion. 

At first these things raised such a smoke that nothing else was to beseen, but by-and-by other strange and singular circumstances began tobe spoken of--at first among the common people, and then by others. Itbegan to be whispered and then to be said that the Old Free GraceMeeting-House out on the Point was haunted by the Devil. 

The first information concerning this dreadful obsession arose from afisherman, who, coming into the harbor of a nightfall after a stormyday, had, as he affirmed, beheld the old meeting-house all of a blazeof light. Some time after, a tinker, making a short-cut from Stapletonby way of the old Indian road, had a view of a similar but a much moreremarkable manifestation. This time, as the itinerant most solemnlydeclared, the meeting-house was not only seen all alight, but a bellwas ringing as a signal somewhere off across the darkness of the water, where, as he protested, there suddenly appeared a red star, that, blazing like a meteor with a surpassing brightness for a few seconds, was presently swallowed up into inky darkness again. Upon anotheroccasion a fiddler, returning home after midnight from Sprowle's Neck, seeing the church alight, had, with a temerity inflamed by rum, approached to a nearer distance, whence, lying in the grass, he had, hesaid, at the stroke of midnight, beheld a multitude of figures emergefrom the building, crying most dolorously, and then had heard a voice, as of a lost spirit, calling aloud, "Six-and-twenty, all told!" whereatthe light in the church was instantly extinguished into an impenetrabledarkness. 

It was said that when Captain Obadiah himself was first apprised of thesuspicions entertained of the demoniacal possession of the oldmeeting-house, he had fixed upon his venturesome informant so threateningand ominous a gaze that the other could move neither hand nor foot underthe malignant fury of his observation. Then, at last, clearing hiscountenance of its terrors, he had burst into a great, loud laugh, crying out: "Well, what then? Why not? You must know that the Devil andI have been very good friends in times past. I saw a deal of him in theWest Indies, and I must tell you that I built up the old meeting-houseagain so that he and I could talk together now and then about old timeswithout having a lot of ----, dried, codfish-eating, rum-drinkingYankee bacon-chewers to listen to every word we had to say to eachother. If you must know, it was only last night that the ghost ofJezebel and I danced a fandango together in the graveyard up yonder, while the Devil himself sat cross-legged on old Daniel Root's tombstoneand blew on a dry, dusty shank-bone by way of a flute. And now" (herehe swore a terrific oath) "you know the worst that is to be known, withonly this to say: if ever a man sets foot upon Pig and Sow Point againafter nightfall to interfere with the Devil's sport and mine, hellsuffer for it as sure as fire can burn or brimstone can scorch. So putthat in your pipe and smoke it. "

These terrible words, however extravagant, were, to be sure, in thenature of a direct confirmation of the very worst suspicion that couldhave been entertained concerning this dolorous affair. But if anyfurther doubt lingered as to the significance of such malevolentrumors, Captain Obadiah himself soon put an end to the same. 

The Reverend Josiah Pettibones was used of a Saturday to take supper atColonel Belford's elegant residence. It was upon such an occasion andthe reverend gentleman and his honored host were smoking a pipe oftobacco together in the library, when there fell a loud and importunateknocking at the house door, and presently the servant came ushering noless a personage than Captain Obadiah himself. After directing a mostcunning, mischievous look at his brother, Captain Obadiah addressedhimself directly to the Reverend Mr. Pettibones, folding his hands witha most indescribable air of mock humility. "Sir, " says he--"Reverendsir, you see before you a humble and penitent sinner, who has fallen sodesperately deep into iniquities that he knows not whether even soprofound piety as yours can elevate him out of the pit in which hefinds himself. Sir, it has got about the town that the Devil has takenpossession of my old meeting-house, and, alas! I have to confess--_thatit is the truth_. " Here our Captain hung his head down upon his breastas though overwhelmed with the terrible communication he had made. 

"What is this that I hear?" cried the reverend gentleman. "Can Ibelieve my ears?"

"Believe your ears!" exclaimed Colonel Belford. "To be sure you cannotbelieve your ears. Do you not see that this is a preposterous lie, andthat he is telling it to you to tease and to mortify me?"

At this Captain Obadiah favored his brother with a look of exaggeratedand sanctimonious humility. "Alas, brother, " he cried out, "foraccusing me so unjustly! Fie upon you! Would you check a penitent inhis confession? But you must know that it is to this gentleman that Iaddress myself, and not to you. " Then directing his discourse once moreto the Reverend Mr. Pettibones, he resumed his address thus: "Sir, youmust know that while I was in the West Indies I embarked, among otherthings, in one of those ventures against the Spanish Main of which youmay have heard. "

"Do you mean piracy?" asked the Reverend Pettibones; and CaptainObadiah nodded his head. 

"'Tis a lie!" cried Colonel Belford, smacking his hand upon the table. "He never possessed spirit enough for anything so dangerous as piracyor more mischievous than slave-trading. "

"Sir, " quoth Captain Obadiah to the reverend gentleman, "again I say'tis to you I address my confession. Well, sir, one day we sighted aSpanish caravel very rich ladened with a prodigious quantity of plate, but were without so much as a capful of wind to fetch us up with her. 'I would, ' says I, 'offer the Devil my soul for a bit of a breeze tobring us alongside. ' 'Done, ' says a voice beside me, and--alas that Imust confess it!--there I saw a man with a very dark countenance, whomI had never before beheld aboard of our ship. 'Sign this, ' says he, 'and the breeze is yours!' 'What is it upon the pen?' says I. "'Tisblood, ' says he. Alas, sir! what was a poor wretch so tempted as I todo?"

"And did you sign?" asked Mr. Pettibones, all agog to hear theconclusion of so strange a narration. 

"Woe is me, sir, that I should have done so!" quoth Captain Obadiah, rolling his eyes until little but the whites of them were to be seen. 

"And did you catch the Spanish ship?"

"That we did, sir, and stripped her as clean as a whistle. "

"'Tis all a prodigious lie!" cried Colonel Belford, in a fury. "Sir, can you sit so complacently and be made a fool of by so extravagant afable?"

"Indeed it is unbelievable, " said Mr. Pettibones. 

At this faint reply, Captain Obadiah burst out laughing; then renewinghis narrative--"Indeed, sir, " he declared, "you may believe me or not, as you please. Nevertheless, I may tell you that, having so obtained myprize, and having time to think coolly over the bargain I had made, Isays to myself, says I: 'Obediah Belford! Obadiah Belford, here is apretty pickle you are in. 'Tis time you quit these parts and liveddecent, or else you are damned to all eternity. ' And so I came hitherto New Hope, reverend sir, hoping to end my days in quiet. Alas, sir!would you believe it? scarce had I finished my fine new house up at thePoint when hither comes that evil being to whom I had sold my sorrowfulsoul. 'Obadiah, ' says he, 'Obadiah Belford, I have a mind to live inNew Hope also, ' 'Where?' says I. 'Well, ' says he, 'you may patch up theold meetinghouse; 'twill serve my turn for a while. ' 'Well, ' thinks Ito myself, 'there can be no harm in that, ' And so I did as he bade me--and would not you do as much for one who had served you as well? Alas, your reverence! there he is now, and I cannot get rid of him, and 'tisover the whole town that he has the meeting-house in possession. "

"Tis an incredible story!" cried the Reverend Pettibones. 

"'Tis a lie from beginning to end!" cried the Colonel. 

"And now how shall I get myself out of my pickle?" asked CaptainObadiah. 

"Sir, " said Mr. Pettibones, "if what you tell me is true, 'tis beyondmy poor powers to aid you. "

"Alas!" cried Captain Obadiah. "Alas! alas! Then, indeed, I'm damned!"And therewith flinging his arms into the air as though in the extremityof despair, he turned and incontinently departed, rushing forth out ofthe house as though stung by ten thousand furies. 

It was the most prodigious piece of gossip that ever fell in the way ofthe Reverend Josiah, and for a fortnight he carried it with himwherever he went. "'Twas the most unbelievable tale I ever heard, " hewould cry. "And yet where there is so much smoke there must be somefire. As for the poor wretch, if ever I saw a lost soul I beheld himstanding before me there in Colonel Belford's library. " And then hewould conclude: "Yes, yes, 'tis incredible and past all belief. But ifit be true in ever so little a part, why, then there is justice inthis--that the Devil should take possession of the sanctuary of thatvery heresy that would not only have denied him the power that everyother Christian belief assigns to him, but would have destroyed thatinfernal habitation that hath been his dwelling-place for alleternity. "

As for Captain Belford, if he desired privacy for himself upon Pig andSow Point, he had taken the very best means to prevent the curious fromspying upon him there after nightfall. 

II

HOW THE DEVIL STOLE THE COLLECTOR'S SNUFFBOX

Lieutenant Thomas Goodhouse was the Collector of Customs in the town ofNew Hope. He was a character of no little notoriety in those parts, enjoying the reputation of being able to consume more pineapple rumwith less effect upon his balance than any other man in the community. He possessed the voice of a stentor, a short, thick-set, broad-shouldered person, a face congested to a violent carnation, and redhair of such a color as to add infinitely to the consuming fire of hiscountenance. 

The Custom Office was a little white frame building with greenshutters, and overhanging the water as though to topple into the tide. Here at any time of the day betwixt the hours of ten in the morning andof five in the afternoon the Collector was to be found at his desksmoking his pipe of tobacco, the while a thin, phthisical clerk bentwith unrelaxing assiduity over a multitude of account-books and papersaccumulated before him. 

For his post of Collectorship of the Royal Customs, LieutenantGoodhouse was especially indebted to the patronage of Colonel Belford. The worthy Collector had, some years before, come to that gentlemanwith a written recommendation from the Earl of Clandennie of a veryunusual sort. It was the Lieutenant's good-fortune to save the life ofthe Honorable Frederick Dunburne, second son of the Earl--a wild, rakish, undisciplined youth, much given to such mischievous enterprisesas the twisting off of door-knockers, the beating of the watch, and thecarrying away of tavern signs. 

Having been a very famous swimmer at Eton, the Honorable Frederickundertook while at the Cowes to swim a certain considerable distancefor a wager. In the midst of this enterprise he was suddenly seizedwith a cramp, and would inevitably have drowned had not the Lieutenant, who happened in a boat close at hand, leaped overboard and rescued theyoung gentleman from the watery grave in which he was about to beengulfed, thus restoring him once more to the arms of his gratefulfamily. 

For this fortunate act of rescue the Earl of Clandennie presented tohis son's preserver a gold snuffbox filled with guineas, and inscribedwith the following legend:

"To Lieutenant Thomas Goodhouse, who, under the Ruling of Beneficent Providence, was the Happy Preserver of a Beautiful andPrecious Life of Virtuous Precocity, this Box is presented by the Father of Him whom Hesaved as a grateful acknowledgment of HisServices. 

Thomas Monkhouse Dunburne, Viscount ofDunburne and Earl of Clandennie. 

_August 17, 1752. _"

Having thus satisfied the immediate demands of his gratitude, it isvery possible that the Earl of Clandennie did not choose to assume sogreat a responsibility as the future of his son's preserver entailed. Nevertheless, feeling that something should be done for him, heobtained for Lieutenant Goodhouse a passage to the Americas, and wrotehim a strong letter of recommendation to Colonel Belford. Thatgentleman, desiring to please the legitimate head of his family, usedhis influence so successfully that the Lieutenant was presently grantedthe position of Collector of Customs in the place of Captain Maull, whohad lately deceased. 

The Lieutenant, somewhat to the surprise of his patrons, filled his newofficial position as Collector not only with vigor, but with a notunbecoming dignity. He possessed an infinite appreciation of theresponsibilities of his office, and he was more jealous to collectevery farthing of the royal duties than he would have been had thosemoneys been gathered for his own emolument. 

Under the old Collectorship of Captain Maull, it was no unusual thingfor a barraco of superfine Hollands, a bolt of silk cloth, or a keg ofbrandy to find its way into the house of some influential merchant orColonial dignitary. But in no such manner was Lieutenant Goodhousederelict in his duties. He would have sacrificed his dearest friendshipor his most precious attachment rather than fail in his duties to theCrown. In the intermission of his duties it might please him to relaxinto the softer humors of conviviality, but at ten o'clock in themorning, whatever his condition of sobriety, he assumed at once all thesterner panoply of a Collector of the Royal Customs. 

Thus he set his virtues against his vices, and struck an even balancebetween them. When most unsteady upon his legs he most asserted hisintegrity, declaring that not a gill or a thread came into his portwithout paying its duty, and calling Heaven to witness that it had beenhis hand that had saved the life of a noble young gentleman. Thereupon, perhaps, drawing forth the gleaming token of his prowess--the goldsnuffbox--from his breeches-pocket, and holding it tight in his brownand hairy fist, he would first offer his interlocutor a pinch ofrappee, and would then call upon him to read the inscription engravedupon the lid of the case, demanding to know whether it mattered a figif a man did drink a drop too much now and then, provided he collectedevery farthing of the royal revenues, and had been the means of savingthe son of the Earl of Clandennie. 

Never for an instant upon such an occasion would he permit his preciousbox to quit his possession. It was to him an emblem of those virtuesthat no one knew but himself, wherefore the more he misdoubted his ownvirtuousness the more valuable did the token of that rectitude becomein his eyes. "Yes, you may look at it, " he would say, "but damme if youshall handle it. I would not, " he would cry, "let the Devil himselftake it out of my hands. "

The talk concerning the impious possession of the Old Free GraceMeeting-House was at its height when the official consciousness of theCollector, who was just then laboring under his constitutionalinfirmity, became suddenly seized with an irrepressible alarm. Hedeclared that he smoked something worse than the Devil upon Pig and SowPoint, and protested that it was his opinion that Captain Obadiah wasdoing a bit of free-trade upon his own account, and that dutiable goodswere being smuggled in at night under cover of these incrediblestories. He registered a vow, sealing it with the most solemnprotestations, and with a multiplicity of ingenious oaths that only amind stimulated by the heat of intoxication could have invented, thathe would make it his business, upon the first occasion that offered, togo down to Pig and Sow Point and to discover for himself whether it wasthe Devil or smugglers that had taken possession of the Old Free GraceMeeting-House. Thereupon, hauling out his precious snuffbox and rappingupon the lid, he offered a pinch around. Then calling attention to theinscription, he demanded to know whether a man who had behaved so wellupon that occasion had need to be afraid of a whole churchful ofdevils. "I would, " he cried, "offer the Devil a pinch, as I haveoffered it to you. Then I would bid him read this and tell me whetherhe dared to say that black was the white of my eye. "

Nor were those words a vain boast upon the Collector's part, for, before a week had passed, it being reported that there had been arenewal of manifestations at the old church, the Collector, findingnobody with sufficient courage to accompany him, himself entered into asmall boat and rowed down alone to Pig and Sow Point to investigate, for his own satisfaction, those appearances that so agitated thecommunity. 

It was dusk when the Collector departed upon that memorable andsolitary expedition, and it was entirely dark before he had reached itsconclusion. He had taken with him a bottle of Extra Reserve rum todrive, as he declared, the chill out of his bones. Accordingly itseemed to him to be a surprisingly brief interval before he foundhimself floating in his boat under the impenetrable shadow of the rockypromontory. The profound and infinite gloom of night overhung him witha portentous darkness, melting only into a liquid obscurity as ittouched and dissolved into the stretch of waters across the bay. Butabove, on the high and rugged shoulder of the Point, the Collector, with dulled and swimming vision, beheld a row of dim and lurid lights, whereupon, collecting his faculties, he opined that the radiance hebeheld was emitted from the windows of the Old Free GraceMeeting-House. 

Having made fast his boat with a drunken gravity, the Collector walkeddirectly, though with uncertain steps, up the steep and rugged pathtowards that mysterious illumination. Now and then he stumbled over thestones and cobbles that lay in his way, but he never quite lost hisbalance, neither did he for a moment remit his drunken gravity. So witha befuddled and obstinate perseverance he reached at last to theconclusion of his adventure and of his fate. 

The old meeting-house was two stories in height, the lower story havingbeen formerly used by the Free Grace Believers as a place wherein tocelebrate certain obscure mysteries appertaining to their belief. Theupper story, devoted to the more ordinary worship of their Sundaymeetings, was reached by a tall, steep flight of steps that led fromthe ground to a covered porch which sheltered the doorway. 

The Collector paused only long enough to observe that the shutters ofthe lower story were tight shut and barred, and that the dull and luridlight shone from the windows above. Then he directly mounted the stepswith a courage and a perfect assurance that can only be entirelyenjoyed by one in his peculiar condition of inebriety. 

He paused to knock at the door, and it appeared to him that hisknuckles had hardly fallen upon the panel before the valve was flungsuddenly open. An indescribable and heavy odor fell upon him and forthe moment overpowered his senses, and he found himself standing faceto face with a figure prodigiously and portentously tall. 

Even at this unexpected apparition the Collector lost possession of nopart of his courage. Rather he stiffened himself to a more stubborn andobstinate resolution. Steadying himself for his address, "I know verywell, " quoth he, "who you are. You are the Divil, I dare say, but dammeif you shall do business here without paying your duties to KingGeorge. I may drink a drop too much, " he cried, "but I collect myduties--every farthing of 'em. " Then drawing forth his snuffbox, hethrust it under the nose of the being to whom he spake. "Take a pinchand read that, " he roared, "but don't handle it, for I wouldn't takeall hell to let it out of my hand. "

The being whom he addressed had stood for all this while as thoughbereft of speech and of movement, but at these last words he appearedto find his voice, for he gave forth a strident bellow of so dreadfuland terrible a sort that the Collector, brave as he found himself, stepped back a pace or two before it. The next instant he was struckupon the wrist as though by a bolt of lightning, and the snuffbox, describing a yellow circle against the light of the door, disappearedinto the darkness of the night beyond. Ere he could recover himselfanother blow smote him upon the breast, and he fell headlong from theplatform, as through infinite space. 

 * * * * *

The next day the Collector did not present himself at the office at hisaccustomed hour, and the morning wore along without his appearing athis desk. By noon serious alarm began to take possession of thecommunity, and about two o'clock, the tide being then set out prettystrong, Mr. Tompkins, the consumptive clerk, and two sailors from the_Sarah Goodrich_, then lying at Mr. Hoppins's wharf, went down in ayawl-boat to learn, if possible, what had befallen him. They coastedalong the Point for above a half-hour before they discovered anyvestige of the missing Collector. Then at last they saw him lying at alittle distance upon a cobbled strip of beach, where, judging from hisposition and from the way he had composed himself to rest, he appearedto have been overcome by liquor. 

At this place Mr. Tompkins put ashore, and making the best of his wayover the slippery stones exposed at low water, came at last to wherehis chief was lying. The Collector was reposing with one arm over hiseyes, as though to shelter them from the sun, but as soon as Mr. Tompkins had approached close enough to see his countenance, he uttereda great cry that was like a scream. For, by the blue and livid lipsparted at the corners to show the yellow teeth, from the waxy whitenessof the fat and hairy hands--in short, from the appearance of the wholefigure, he was aware in an instant that the Collector was dead. 

His cry brought the two sailors running. They, with the utmost coolnessimaginable, turned the Collector over, but discovered no marks ofviolence upon him, till of a sudden one of them called attention to thefact that his neck was broke. Upon this the other opined that he hadfallen among the rocks and twisted his neck. 

The two mariners then made an investigation of his pockets, the clerkstanding by the while paralyzed with horror, his face the color ofdough, his scalp creeping, and his hands and fingers twitching asthough with the palsy. For there was something indescribably dreadfulin the spectacle of those living hands searching into the dead'spockets, and he would freely have given a week's pay if he had neverembarked upon the expedition for the recovery of his chief. 

In the Collector's pockets they found a twist of tobacco, a redbandanna handkerchief of violent color, a purse meagrely filled withcopper coins and silver pieces, a silver watch still ticking with aloud and insistent iteration, a piece of tarred string, and aclasp-knife. 

The snuffbox which the Lieutenant had regarded with such prodigiouspride as the one emblem of his otherwise dubious virtue was gone. 

III

THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF QUALITY

The Honorable Frederick Dunburne, second son of the Earl of Clandennie, having won some six hundred pounds at écarté at a single sitting atPintzennelli's, embarked with his two friends, Captain Blessington andLord George Fitzhope, to conclude the night with a round of finaldissipation in the more remote parts of London. Accordingly theyembarked at York Stairs for the Three Cranes, ripe for any mischief. Upon the water the three young gentlemen amused themselves by shoutingand singing, pausing only now and then to discharge a broadside ofraillery at the occupants of some other and passing boat. 

All went very well for a while, some of those in the passing boatslaughing and railing in return, others shouting out angry replies. Atlast they fell in with a broad-beamed, flat-nosed, Dutch-appearingyawl-boat, pulling heavily up against the stream, and loaded with acrew of half-drunken sailors just come into port. In reply to thechallenge of our young gentlemen, a man in the stern of the other boat, who appeared to be the captain of the crew--a fellow, as Dunburne couldindefinitely perceive by the dim light of the lanthorn and the faintillumination of the misty half-moon, possessing a great, coarse redface and a bullet head surmounted by a mildewed and mangy fur cap--bawled out, in reply, that if they would only put their boat nearenough for a minute or two he would give them a bellyful of somethingthat would make them quiet for the rest of the night. He added that hewould ask for nothing better than to have the opportunity of beatingDunburne's head to a pudding, and that he would give a crown to havethe three of them within arm's-reach for a minute. 

Upon this Captain Blessington swore that he should be immediatelyaccommodated, and therewith delivered an order to that effect to thewatermen. These obeyed so promptly that almost before Dunburne wasaware of what had happened the two boats were side by side, with hardlya foot of space between the gunwales. Dunburne beheld one of thewatermen of his own boat knock down one of the crew of the other withthe blade of an oar, and then he himself was clutched by the collar inthe grasp of the man with the fur cap. Him Dunburne struck twice in theface, and in the moonlight he saw that he had started the blood torunning down from his assailant's nose. But his blows produced no othereffect than to call forth a volley of the most horrible oaths that evergreeted his ears. Thereupon the boats drifted so far apart that ouryoung gentleman was haled over the gunwale and soused in the cold waterof the river. The next moment some one struck him upon the head with abelaying-pin or a billet of wood, a blow so crushing that the darknessseemed to split asunder with a prodigious flaming of lights and amyriad of circling stars, which presently disappeared into the profoundand utter darkness of insensibility. How long this swoon continued ouryoung gentleman could never tell, but when he regained so much of hisconsciousness as to be aware of the things about him, he beheld himselfto be confined in a room, the walls whereof were yellow and greasy withdirt, he himself having been laid upon a bed so foul and so displeasingto his taste that he could not but regret the swoon from which he hademerged into consciousness. Looking down at his person, he beheld thathis clothes had all been taken away from him, and that he was now cladin a shirt with only one sleeve, and a pair of breeches so tatteredthat they barely covered his nakedness. While he lay thus, dismallydepressed by so sad a pickle as that into which he found himselfplunged, he was strongly and painfully aware of an uproarious babble ofloud and drunken voices and a continual clinking of glasses, whichappeared to sound as from a tap-room beneath, these commingled now andthen with oaths and scraps of discordant song bellowed out above thehubbub. His wounded head beat with tremendous and strainingpainfulness, as though it would burst asunder, and he was possessed bya burning thirst that seemed to consume his very vitals. He calledaloud, and in reply a fat, one-eyed woman came, fetching him somethingto drink in a cup. This he swallowed with avidity, and thereupon (theliquor perhaps having been drugged) he dropped off into unconsciousnessonce more. 

When at last he emerged for a second time into the light of reason, itwas to find himself aboard a brig--the _Prophet Daniel_, he discoveredher name to be--bound for Baltimore, in the Americas, and then pitchingand plunging upon a westerly running stern-sea, and before a strongwind that drove the vessel with enormous velocity upon its course forthose remote and unknown countries for which it was bound. The land wasstill in sight both astern and abeam, but before him lay the boundlessand tremendously infinite stretch of the ocean. Dunburne found himselfstill to be clad in the one-armed shirt and tattered breeches that hadadorned him in the house of the crimp in which he had first awakened. Now, however, an old tattered hat with only a part of the crown hadbeen added to his costume. As though to complete the sad disorder ofhis appearance, he discovered, upon passing his hand over hiscountenance, that his beard and hair had started a bristling growth, and that the lump on his crown--which was even yet as big as a walnut--was still patched with pieces of dirty sticking-plaster. Indeed, had hebut known it, he presented as miserable an appearance as the mostmiserable of those wretches who were daily ravished from the slums andstreets of the great cities to be shipped to the Americas. Nor was he along time in discovering that he was now one of the several suchindentured servants who, upon the conclusion of their voyage, were tobe sold for their passage in the plantations of Maryland. 

Having learned so much of his miserable fate, and being now able tomake shift to walk (though with weak and stumbling steps), our younggentleman lost no time in seeking the Captain, to whom he endeavored toexplain the several accidents that had befallen him, acknowledging thathe was the second son of the Earl of Clandennie, and declaring that ifhe, the Captain, would put the _Prophet Daniel_ back into some Englishport again, his lordship would make it well worth his while to lose somuch time for the sake of one so dear as a second son. To this addressthe Captain, supposing him either to be drunk or disordered in hismind, made no other reply than to knock him incontinently down upon thedeck, bidding him return forward where he belonged. 

Thereafter poor Dunburne found himself enjoying the reputation of aharmless madman. The name of the Earl of Rags was bestowed upon him, and the miserable companions of his wretched plight were never tired oftempting him to recount his adventures, for the sake of entertainingthemselves by teasing that which they supposed to be his hapless mania. 

Nor is it easy to conceive of all the torments that those miserable, obscene wretches were able to inflict upon him. Under the teasing stingof his companions' malevolent pleasantries, there were times whenDunburne might, as he confessed to himself, have committed a murderwith the greatest satisfaction in the world. However, he was endowedwith no small command of self-restraint, so that he was still able tocurb his passions within the bounds of reason and of policy. He was, fortunately, a complete master of the French and Italian languages, sothat when the fury of his irritation would become too excessive for himto control, he would ease his spirits by castigating his tormentorswith a consuming verbosity in those foreign tongues, which, had hiscompanions understood a single word of that which he uttered, wouldhave earned for him a beating that would have landed him within an inchof his life. However, they attributed all that he said to theirrational gibbering of a maniac. 

About midway of their voyage the _Prophet Daniel_ encountered atremendous storm, which drove her so far out of the Captain's reckoningthat when land was sighted, in the afternoon of a tempestuous day inthe latter part of August, the first mate, who had been for some yearsin the New England trade, opined that it was the coast of Rhode Island, and that if the Captain chose to do so he might run into New HopeHarbor and lie there until the southeaster had blown itself out. Thisadvice the Captain immediately put into execution, so that by nightfallthey had dropped anchor in the comparative quiet of that excellentharbor. 

Dunburne was a most excellent and practised swimmer. That evening, whenthe dusk had pretty well fallen, he jumped overboard, dived under thebrig, and came up on the other side. Thus leaving all hands aboardlooking for him or for his dead body at the starboard side of the_Prophet Daniel_, he himself swam slowly away to the larboard. Nowpartly under water, now floating on his back, he directed his coursetowards a point of land about a mile away, whereon, as he had observedbefore the dark had settled down, there stood an old wooden buildingresembling a church, and a great brick house with tall, lean chimneysat a little farther distance inland. 

The intemperate cold of the water of those parts of America was so muchmore excessive than Dunburne had been used to swim in that when hedragged himself out upon the rocky, bowlder-strewn beach he lay for aconsiderable time more dead than alive. His limbs appeared to possesshardly any vitality, so benumbed were they by the icy chill that hadentered into the very marrow of his bones. Nor did he for a long whilerecover from this excessive rigor; his limbs still continued atintervals to twitch and shudder as with a convulsion, nor could he atsuch times at all control their trembling. At last, however, with ahuge sigh, he aroused himself to some perception of his surroundings, which he acknowledged were of as dispiriting a sort as he could wellhave conceived of. His recovering senses were distracted by a ceaselesswatery din, for the breaking waves, rushing with a prodigious swiftnessfrom the harbor to the shore before the driving wind, fell withuproarious crashing into white foam among the rocks. Above this waterytumult spread the wet gloom of the night, full of the blackness andpelting chill of a fine slanting rain. 

Through this shroud of mist and gloom Dunburne at last distinguished afaint light, blurred by the sheets of rain and darkness, and shining asthough from a considerable distance. Cheered by this nearer presence ofhuman life, our young gentleman presently gathered his benumbed powerstogether, arose, and after a while began slowly and feebly to climb astony hill that lay between the rocky beach and that faint butencouraging illumination. 

So, sorely buffeted by the tempest, he at last reached the black, square form of that structure from which the light shone. The buildinghe perceived to be a little wooden church of two stories in height. Theshutters of the lower story were tight fastened, as though bolted fromwithin. Those above were open, and from them issued the light that hadguided him in his approach from the beach. A tall flight of woodensteps, wet in the rain, reached to a small, enclosed porch orvestibule, whence a door, now tight shut, gave ingress into the secondstory of the church. 

Thence, as Dunburne stood without, he could now distinguish the dullmuttering of a man's voice, which he opined might be that of thepreacher. Our young gentleman, as may be supposed, was in a wretchedplight. He was ragged and unshaven; his only clothing was the miserableshirt and bepatched breeches that had served him as shelter throughoutthe long voyage. These abominable garments were now wet to the skin, and so displeasing was his appearance that he was forced to acknowledgeto himself that he did not possess enough of humility to avow so greata misery to the light and to the eyes of strangers. Accordingly, finding some shelter afforded by the vestibule of the church, hecrouched there in a corner, huddling his rags about him, and finding acertain poor warmth in thus hiding away from the buffeting of the chilland penetrating wind. As he so crouched he presently became aware ofthe sound of many voices, dull and groaning, coming from within theedifice, and then--now and again--the clanking as of a multitude ofchains. Then of a sudden, and unexpectedly, the door near him was flungwide open, and a faint glow of reddish light fell across the passage. Instantly the figure of a man came forth, and following him came, not acongregation, as Dunburne might have supposed, but a most dolorouscompany of nearly, or quite, naked men and women, outlined blackly, asthey emerged, against the dull illumination from behind. These wretchedbeings, sighing and groaning most piteously, with a monotonous wailingof many voices, were chained by the wrist, two and two together, and asthey passed by close to Dunburne, his nostrils were overpowered by aheavy and fetid odor that came partly from within the building, partlyfrom the wretched creatures that passed him by. 

As the last of these miserable beings came forth from the bowels ofthat dreadful place, a loud voice, so near to Dunburne as to startlehis ears with its sudden exclamation, cried out, "Six-and-twenty, alltold, " and thereat instantly the dull light from within was quenchedinto darkness. 

In the gloom and the silence that followed, Dunburne could hear for awhile nothing but the dash of the rain upon the roof and the ceaselessdrip and trickle of the water running from the eaves into the puddlesbeneath the building. 

Then, as he stood, still marvelling at what he had seen, there suddenlycame a loud and startling crash, as of a trap-door let fall into itsplace. A faint circle of light shone within the darkness of thebuilding, as though from a lantern carried in a man's hands. There wasa sound of jingling, as of keys, of approaching footsteps, and ofvoices talking together, and presently there came out into thevestibule the dark figures of two men, one of them carrying a ship'slantern. One of these figures closed and locked the door behind him, and then both were about to turn away without having observed Dunburne, when, of a sudden, a circle from the roof of the lantern lit up hispale and melancholy face, and he instantly became aware that hispresence had been discovered. 

The next moment the lantern was flung up almost into his eyes, and inthe light he saw the sharp, round rim of a pistol-barrel directedimmediately against his forehead. 

In that moment our young gentleman's life hung as a hair in thebalance. In the intense instant of expectancy his brain appeared toexpand as a bubble, and his ears tingled and hummed as though a cloudof flies were buzzing therein. Then suddenly a voice smote like a blowupon the silence--"Who are you, and what d'ye want?"

"Indeed, " said Dunburne, "I do not know. "

"What do you do here?"

"Nor do I know that, either. "

He who held the lantern lifted it so that the illumination fell stillmore fully upon Dunburne's face and person. Then his interlocutordemanded, "How did you come here?"

Upon the moment Dunburne determined to answer so much of the truth asthe question required. "'Twas by no fault of my own, " he cried. "I wasknocked on the head and kidnapped in England, with the design of beingsold in Baltimore. The vessel that fetched me put into the harbor overyonder to wait for good weather, and I jumped overboard and swamashore, to stumble into the cursed pickle in which I now find myself. "

"Have you, then, an education? To be sure, you talk so. "

"Indeed I have, " said Dunburne--"a decent enough education to fit mefor a gentleman, if the opportunity offered. But what of that?" heexclaimed, desperately. "I might as well have no more learning than abeggar under the bush, for all the good it does me. " The other oncemore flashed the light of his lantern over our young gentleman'smiserable and barefoot figure. "I had a mind, " says he, "to blow yourbrains out against the wall. I have a notion now, however, to turn youto some use instead, so I'll just spare your life for a little while, till I see how you behave. "

He spoke with so much more of jocularity than he had heretofore usedthat Dunburne recovered in great part his dawning assurance. "I aminfinitely obliged to you, " he cried, "for sparing my brains; but Iprotest I doubt if you will ever find so good an opportunity again tomurder me as you have just enjoyed. "

This speech seemed to tickle the other prodigiously, for he burst intoa loud and boisterous laugh, under cover of which he thrust his pistolback into his coat-pocket again. "Come with me, and I'll fit you withvictuals and decent clothes, of both of which you appear to stand in nolittle need, " he said. Thereupon, and without another word, he turnedand quitted the place, accompanied by his companion, who for all thistime had uttered not a single sound. A little way from the church thesetwo parted company, with only a brief word spoken between them. 

Dunburne's interlocutor, with our young gentleman following closebehind him, led the way in silence for a considerable distance throughthe long, wet grass and the tempestuous darkness, until at last, stillin unbroken silence, they reached the confines of an enclosure, andpresently stood before a large and imposing house built of brick. 

Dunburne's mysterious guide, still carrying the lantern, conducted himdirectly up a broad flight of steps, and opening the door, ushered himinto a hallway of no inconsiderable pretensions. Thence he led the wayto a dining-room beyond, where our young gentleman observed a longmahogany table, and a sideboard of carved mahogany illuminated by threeor four candles. In answer to the call of his conductor, a negroservant appeared, whom the master of the house ordered to fetch somebread and cheese and a bottle of rum for his wretched guest. While theservant was gone to execute the commission the master seated himself athis ease and favored Dunburne with a long and most minute regard. Thenhe suddenly asked our young gentleman what was his name. 

Upon the instant Dunburne did not offer a reply to this interrogation. He had been so miserably abused when he had told the truth upon thevoyage that he knew not now whether to confess or deny his identity. Hepossessed no great aptitude at lying, so that it was with no littlehesitation that he determined to maintain his incognito. Having reachedthis conclusion, he answered his host that his name was Tom Robinson. The other, however, appeared to notice neither his hesitation nor thename which he had seen fit to assume. Instead, he appeared to be lostin a reverie, which he broke only to bid our young gentleman to sitdown and tell the story of the several adventures that had befallenhim. He advised him to leave nothing untold, however shameful it mightbe. "Be assured, " said he, "that no matter what crimes you may havecommitted, the more intolerable your wickedness, the better you willplease me for the purpose I have in view. "

Being thus encouraged, and having already embarked in disingenuosity, our young gentleman, desiring to please his host, began at random atale composed in great part of what he recollected of the story of_Colonel Jack_, seasoned occasionally with extracts from Mr. Smollett'singenious novel of _Ferdinand, Count Fathom_. There was hardly a pettycrime or a mean action mentioned in either of these entertainingfictions that he was not willing to attribute to himself. Meanwhile hediscovered, to his surprise, that lying was not really so difficult anart as he had supposed it to be. His host listened for a considerablewhile in silence, but at last he was obliged to call upon his penitentto stop. "To tell you the truth, Mr. What's-a-name, " he cried, "I donot believe a single word you are telling me. However, I am satisfiedthat in you I have discovered, as I have every reason to hope, one ofthe most preposterous liars I have for a long time fell in with. Indeed, I protest that any one who can with so steady a countenance lieso tremendously as you have just done may be capable, if not of a greatcrime, at least of no inconsiderable deceit, and perhaps of treachery. If this be so, you will suit my purposes very well, though I wouldrather have had you an escaped criminal or a murderer or a thief. "

"Sir, " said Dunburne, very seriously, "I am sorry that I am not more toyour mind. As you say, I can, I find, lie very easily, and if you willgive me sufficient time, I dare say I can become sufficiently expert inother and more criminal matters to please even your fancy. I cannot, Ifear, commit a murder, nor would I choose to embark upon an attempt atarson; but I could easily learn to cheat at cards; or I could, if itwould please you better, make shift to forge your own name to a billfor a hundred pounds. I confess, however, I am entirely in the dark asto why you choose to have me enjoy so evil a reputation. "

At these words the other burst into a great and vociferous laugh. "Iprotest, " he cried, "you are the coolest rascal ever I fell in with. But come, " he added, sobering suddenly, "what did you say was yourname?"

"I declare, sir, " said Dunburne, with the most ingenuous frankness, "Ihave clean forgot. Was it Tom or John Robinson?"

Again the other burst out laughing. "Well, " he said, "what does itmatter? Thomas or John--'tis all one. I see that you are a ragged, lousy beggar, and I believe you to be a runaway servant. Even if thatis the worst to be said of you, you will suit me very well. As for aname, I myself will fit you with one, and it shall be of the best. Iwill give you a home here in the house, and will for three monthsclothe you like a lord. You shall live upon the best, and shall meetplenty of the genteelest company the Colonies can afford. All that Idemand of you is that you shall do exactly as I tell you for the threemonths that I so entertain you. Come. Is it a bargain?"

Dunburne sat for a while thinking very seriously. "First of all, " saidhe, "I must know what is the name you have a mind to bestow upon me. "

The other looked distrustfully at him for a time, and then, as thoughsuddenly fetching up resolution, he cried out: "Well, what then? Whatof it? Why should I be afraid? I'll tell you. Your name shall beFrederick Dunburne, and you shall be the second son of the Earl ofClandennie. "

Had a thunder-bolt fallen from heaven at Dunburne's feet he could nothave been struck more entirely dumb than he was at those astoundingwords. He knew not for the moment where to look or what to think. Atthat instant the negro man came into the room, fetching the bottle ofrum and the bread and cheese he had been sent for. As the sound of hisentrance struck upon our young gentleman's senses he came to himselfwith the shock, and suddenly exploded into a burst of laughter soshrill and discordant that Captain Obadiah sat staring at him as thoughhe believed his ragged beneficiary had gone clean out of his senses. 

IV

A ROMANTIC EPISODE IN THE LIFE OF A YOUNG LADY

Miss Belinda Belford, the daughter and only child of Colonel WilliamBelford, was a young lady possessed of no small pretensions to personalcharms of the most exalted order. Indeed, many excellent judges in suchmatters regarded her, without doubt, as the reigning belle of theNorthern Colonies. Of a medium height, of a slight but generouslyrounded figure, she bore herself with an indescribable grace anddignity of carriage. Her hair, which was occasionally permitted to curlin ringlets upon her snowy neck, was of a brown so dark and so soft asat times to deceive the admiring observer into a belief that it wasblack. Her eyes, likewise of a dark-brown color, were of a most meltingand liquid lustre; her nose, though slight, was sufficiently high, andmodelled with so exquisite a delicacy as to lend an exceeding charm toher whole countenance. She was easily the belle of every assembly whichshe graced with her presence, and her name was the toast of everygarrison town of the Northern provinces. 

Madam Belford and her lovely daughter were engaged one pleasant morningin entertaining a number of friends, in the genteel English manner, with a dish of tea and a bit of gossip. Upon this charming companyColonel Belford suddenly intruded, his countenance displaying anexcessive though not displeasing agitation. 

"My dear! my dear!" he cried, "what a piece of news have I for you! Itis incredible and past all belief! Who, ladies, do you suppose is herein New Hope? Nay, you cannot guess; I shall have to enlighten you. 'Tisnone other than Frederick Dunburne, my lordship's second son. Yes, youmay well look amazed. I saw and spoke with him this very morning, andthat not above a half-hour ago. He is travelling incognito, but mybrother Obadiah discovered his identity, and is now entertaining him athis new house upon the Point. A large party of young officers from thegarrison are there, all very gay with cards and dice, I am told. Mynoble young gentleman knew me so soon as he clapped eyes upon me. 'This, ' says he, 'if I am not mistook, must be Colonel Belford, myfather's honored friend. ' He is, " exclaimed the speaker, "a mostinteresting and ingenuous youth, with extremely lively and elegantmanners, and a person exactly resembling that of his dear and honoredfather. "

It may be supposed into what a flutter this piece of news cast thosewho heard it. "My dear, " cried Madam Belford, as soon as the firstextravagance of the general surprise had passed by to an easieracceptance of Colonel Belford's tidings--"my dear, why did you notbring him with you to present him to us all? What an opportunity haveyou lost!"

"Indeed, my dear, " said Colonel Belford, "I did not forget to invitehim hither. He protested that nothing could afford him greaterpleasure, did he not have an engagement with some young gentlemen fromthe garrison. But, believe me, I would not let him go without apromise. He is to dine with us to-morrow at two; and, Belinda, mydear"--here Colonel Belford pinched his daughter's blushing cheek--"youmust assume your best appearance for so serious an occasion. I aminformed that my noble gentleman is extremely particular in his tastesin the matter of female excellence. "

"Indeed, papa, " cried the young lady, with great vivacity, "I shallattempt no extraordinary graces upon my young gentleman's account, andthat I promise you. I protest, " she exclaimed, with spirit, "I have nogreat opinion of him who would come thus to New Hope without a singleword to you, who are his father's confidential correspondent. Nor do Iadmire the taste of one who would choose to cast himself upon thehospitality of my uncle Obadiah rather than upon yours. "

"My dear, " said Colonel Belford, very soberly, "you express youropinion with a most unwarranted levity, considering the exaltedposition your subject occupies. I may, however, explain to you that hecame to America quite unexpectedly and by an accident. Nor would hehave declared his incognito, had not my brother Obadiah discovered italmost immediately upon his arrival. He would not, he declared, havevisited New Hope at all, had not Captain Obadiah Belford urged hishospitality in such a manner as to preclude all denial. "

But to this reproof Miss Belinda who, was, indeed, greatly indulged byher parents, made no other reply than to toss her head with a prettysauciness, and to pout her cherry lips in an infinitely becomingmanner. 

But though our young lady protested so emphatically against assumingany unusual charms for the entertainment of their expected visitor, shenone the less devoted no small consideration to that very thing thatshe had so exclaimed against. Accordingly, when she was presented toher father's noble guest, what with her heightened color and her eyessparkling with the emotions evoked by the occasion, she so impressedour young gentleman that he could do little but stand regarding herwith an astonishment that for the moment caused him to forget thosegraces of deportment that the demands of elegance called upon him toassume. 

However, he recovered himself immediately, and proceeded to take suchadvantage of his introduction that by the time they were seated at thedinner-table he found himself conversing with his fair partner with allthe ease and vivacity imaginable. Nor in this exchange of politeraillery did he discover her wit to be in any degree less than herpersonal charms. 

"Indeed, madam, " he exclaimed, "I am now more than ready to thank thathappy accident that has transported me, however much against my will, from England to America. The scenery, how beautiful! Nature, howfertile! Woman, how exquisite! Your country, " he exclaimed, withenthusiasm, "is like heaven!"

"Indeed, sir, " cried the young lady, vivaciously, "I do not take yourpraise for a compliment. I protest I am acquainted with no younggentleman who would not defer his enjoyment of heaven to the very lastextremity. "

"To be sure, " quoth our hero, "an ambition for the abode of saints isof too extreme a nature to recommend itself to a modest young fellow ofparts. But when one finds himself thrown into the society of an houri--"

"And do you indeed have houris in England?" exclaimed the young lady. "In America you must be content with society of a much more earthlyconstitution!"

"Upon my word, miss, " cried our young gentleman, "you compel me toconfess that I find myself in the society of one vastly more to myinclination than that of any houri of my acquaintance. "

With such lively badinage, occasionally lapsing into more seriousdiscourse, the dinner passed off with a great deal of pleasantness toour young gentleman, who had prepared himself for somethingprodigiously dull and heavy. After the repast, a pipe of tobacco in thesummer-house and a walk in the garden so far completed his cheerfulimpressions that when he rode away towards Pig and Sow Point he foundhimself accompanied by the most lively, agreeable thoughts imaginable. Her wit, how subtle! Her person, how beautiful! He surprised himselfsmiling with a fatuous indulgence of his enjoyable fancies. 

Nor did the young lady's thoughts, though doubtless of a more moderatesort, assume a less pleasing perspective. Our young gentleman wasfavored with a tall, erect figure, a high nose, and a fine, thin faceexpressive of excellent breeding. It seemed to her that his mannerspossessed an elegance and a grace that she had never before discoveredbeyond the leaves of Mr. Richardson's ingenious novels. Nor was sheunaware of the admiration of herself that his countenance hadexpressed. Upon so slender a foundation she amused herself for above anhour, erecting such castles in the air that, had any one discovered herthought, she would have perished of mortification. 

But though our young lady so yielded herself to the enjoyment of suchsilly dreams as might occur to any miss of a lively imagination andvivacious temperament, the reader is to understand that she has yet somuch dignity and spirit as to cover these foolish and romantic fancieswith a cloak of so delicate and so subtle a reserve that when the younggentleman called to pay his respects the next afternoon he quitted herpresence ten times more infatuated with her charms than he had been theday before. 

Nor can it be denied that our young lady knew perfectly well how tomake the greatest use of such opportunities. She already possessed agreat deal of experience in teasing the other sex with those deliciousthough innocent torments that cause the eyes of the victim to remainawake at night and the fancy to dream throughout the day. 

Such presently became the condition of our young gentleman that at theend of the month he knew not whether his present life had continued forweeks or for years; in the charming infatuation that overpowered him heconsidered nothing of time, every other consideration being engulfed inhis desire for the society of his charmer. Cards and dice lost for himtheir accustomed pleasure, and when a gay society would be at Belford'sPalace it was with the utmost difficulty that he assumed so muchpatience as to take his part in those dissipations that there obtained. Relieved from them, he flew with redoubled ardor back to thegratification of his passion again. 

In the mean time Captain Obadiah had become so accustomed to thepresence of his guest that he made no pretence of any concealment ofthat iniquitous, dreadful avocation that lent to Pig and Sow Point sogreat a terror in those parts. Rather did the West Indian appear tocourt the open observation of his dependant. 

One exquisite day in the last of October our young gentleman had spentthe greater part of the afternoon in the society of the beautifulobject of his regard. The leaves, though fallen from the trees in greatabundance, appeared thereby only to have admitted of the passage of ariper radiance of golden sunlight through the thinning branches. Thisand the ardor of his passion had so transported our hero that when hehad departed from her presence he seemed to walk as light as a feather, and knew not whether it was the warmth of the sunlight or the heat ofhis own impetuous transports that filled the universe with so extreme abrightness. 

Overpowered with these absorbing and transcendent introspections, heapproached his now odious home upon Pig and Sow Point by way of the oldmeeting-house. There of a sudden he came upon his patron, CaptainObadiah, superintending the burial of the last of three victims of hisodious commerce, who had died that afternoon. Two had already beeninterred, and the third new-made grave was in the process of beingfilled. Two men, one a negro and the other a white, had nearlycompleted their labor, tramping down the crumbling earth as theyshovelled it into the shallow excavation. Meanwhile Captain Obadiahstood near by, his red coat flaming in the slanting light, himselfsmoking a pipe of tobacco with all the ease and coolness imaginable. His hands, clasped behind his back, held his ivory-headed cane, and asour hero approached he turned an evil countenance upon him, and greetedhim with a grin at once droll, mischievous, and malevolent in theextreme. "And how is our pretty charmer this afternoon?" quoth CaptainObadiah. 

Conceive, if you please, of a man floating in the most ecstatic delightof heaven pulled suddenly thence down into the most filthy extremity ofhell, and then you shall understand the motions of disgust andrepugnance and loathing that overpowered our hero, who, awakening thussuddenly out of his dream of love, found himself in the presence ofthat grim and obscene spectacle of death--who, arousing from suchabsorbing and exquisite meditations, heard his ears greeted with sorude and vulgar an address. 

Acknowledging to himself that he did not dare offer an immediate replyto his host, he turned upon his heel and walked away, withoutexpressing a single word. 

He was not, however, permitted to escape thus easily. He had not takenabove twenty steps, when, hearing footsteps behind him, he turned hishead to discover Captain Obadiah skipping rapidly after him in aprodigious hurry, swinging his cane and chuckling preposterously tohimself, as though in the enjoyment of some most exquisite piece ofdrollery. "What!" he cried, as soon as he could catch his breath fromhis hurry. "What! What! Can't you answer, you villain? Why, blind myeyes! a body would think you were a lord's son indeed, instead ofbeing, as I know you, a beggarly runaway servant whom I took in like amangy cat out of the rain. But come, come--no offence, my boy! I'll beno hard master to you. I've heard how the wind blows, and I've kept myears open to all your doings. I know who is your sweetheart. Harkee, you rascal! You have a fancy for my niece, have you? Well, your appleis ripe if you choose to pick it. Marry your charmer and be damned; andif you'll serve me by taking her thus in hand, I'll pay you twentypounds upon your wedding-day. Now what do you say to that, you lousybeggar in borrowed clothes?"

Our young gentleman stopped short and looked his tormentor full in theface. The thought of his father's anger alone had saved him fromentangling himself in the web of his passions; this he forgot upon theinstant. "Captain Obadiah Belford, " quoth he, "you're the mostconsummate villain ever I beheld in all of my life; but if I have thegood-fortune to please the young lady, I wish I may die if I don'tserve you in this!"

At these words Captain Obadiah, who appeared to take no offence at hisguest's opinion of his honesty, burst out into a great boisterouslaugh, flinging back his head and dropping his lower jaw sopreposterously that the setting sun shone straight down his wide andcavernous gullet. 

V

HOW THE DEVIL WAS CAST OUT OF THE MEETING-HOUSE

The news that the Honorable Frederick Dunburne, second son of the Earlof Clandennie, was to marry Miss Belinda Belford, the daughter and onlychild of Colonel William Belford, of New Hope, was of a sort to arousethe keenest and most lively interest in all those parts of the NorthernColonies of America. 

The day had been fixed, and all the circumstances arranged with suchparticularity that an invitation was regarded as the highest honor thatcould befall the fortunate recipient. There were to be present on thisinteresting occasion two Colonial governors and their ladies, anEnglish general, the captain of the flag-ship _Achilles_, and above ascore of Colonial magnates and ladies of distinction. 

Captain Obadiah had not been bidden to either the ceremony or thebreakfast. This rebuff he had accepted with prodigious amusement, which, not limiting itself to the immediate occasion, broke forth atintervals for above two weeks. Now it might express itself in chucklesof the most delicious entertainment, vented as our Captain walked upand down the hall of his great house, smoking his pipe and cracking theknuckles of his fingers; at other times he would burst forth intoincontrollable fits of laughter at the extravagant deceit which hebelieved himself to be imposing upon his brother, Colonel Belford. 

At length came the wedding-day, with such circumstances of pomp anddisplay as the exceeding wealth and Colonial dignity of Colonel Belfordcould surround it. For the wedding-breakfast the great folding-doorsbetween the drawing-room and the dining-room of Colonel Belford's housewere flung wide open, and a table extending the whole length of the twoapartments was set with the most sumptuous and exquisite display ofplate and china. Around the board were collected the distinguishedcompany, and the occasion was remarkable not less for the richness ofits display than for the exquisite nature of the repast intended tocelebrate so auspicious an occasion. 

At the head of the board sat the young couple, radiant with anengrossing happiness that took no thought of what the future might havein store for it, but was contented with the triumphant ecstasy of themoment. 

These elegant festivities were at their height, when there suddenlyarose a considerable disputation in the hallway beyond, and before anyone could inquire as to what was occurring, Captain Obadiah Belfordcame stumping into the room, swinging his ivory-headed cane, and withan expression of the most malicious triumph impressed upon hiscountenance. Directing his address to the bridegroom, and paying noattention to any other one of the company, he cried out: "Though notbidden to this entertainment, I have come to pay you a debt I owe. Hereis twenty pounds I promised to pay you for marrying my niece. "

Therewith he drew a silk purse full of gold pieces from his pocket, which he hung over the ferrule of his cane and reached across the tableto the bridegroom. That gentleman, upon his part (having expected somesuch episode as this), arose, and with a most polite and elaborate bowaccepted the same and thrust it into his pocket. 

"And now, my young gentleman, " cried Captain Obadiah, folding his armsand tucking his cane under his armpit, looking the while from under hisbrows upon the company with a most malevolent and extravagant grin--"and now, my young gentleman, perhaps you will favor the ladies andgentlemen here present with an account of what services they are I thuspay for. "

"To be sure I will, " cried out our hero, "and that with the utmostwillingness in the world. "

During all this while the elegant company had sat as with suspendedanimation, overwhelmed with wonder at the singular address of theintruder. Even the servants stood still with the dishes in their handsthe better to hear the outcome of the affair. The bride, overwhelmed bya sudden and inexplicable anxiety, felt the color quit her face, andreaching out, seized her lover's hand, who took hers very readily, holding it tight within his grasp. As for Colonel and Madam Belford, not knowing what this remarkable address portended, they sat as thoughturned to stone, the one gone as white as ashes, and the other as redin the face as a cherry. Our young gentleman, however, maintained theutmost coolness and composure of demeanor. Pointing his finger towardsthe intruder, he exclaimed: "In Captain Obadiah Belford, ladies andgentlemen, you behold the most unmitigated villain that ever I met inall of my life. With an incredible spite and vindictiveness he not onlypursued my honored father-in-law, Colonel Belford, but has sought towreak an unwarranted revenge upon the innocent and virtuous young ladywhom I have now the honor to call my wife. But how has he overreachedhimself in his machinations! How has he entangled his feet in the netwhich he himself has spread! I will tell you my history, as he bids meto do, and you may then judge for yourselves!"

At this unexpected address Captain Obadiah's face fell from itsexpression of malicious triumph, growing longer and longer, until atlast it was overclouded with so much doubt and anxiety that, had hebeen threatened by the loss of a thousand pounds, he could not haveassumed a greater appearance of mortification and dejection. Meantime, regarding him with a mischievous smile, our young gentleman began thehistory of all those adventures that had befallen him from the time heembarked upon the memorable expedition with his two companions indissipation from York Stairs. As his account proceeded CaptainObadiah's face altered by degrees from its natural brown to a sicklyyellow, and then to so leaden a hue that it could not have assumed amore ghastly appearance were he about to swoon dead away. Great beadsof sweat gathered upon his forehead and trickled down his cheeks. Atlast he could endure no more, but with a great and strident voice, suchas might burst forth from a devil tormented, he cried out: "'Tis a lie!'Tis all a monstrous lie! He is a beggarly runaway servant whom I tookin out of the rain and fed and housed--to have him turn thus against meand strike the hand that has benefited him!"

"Sir, " replied our young gentleman, with a moderate and easy voice, "what I tell you is no lie, but the truth. If any here misdoubts myveracity, see, here is a letter received by the last packet from myhonored father. You, Colonel Belford, know his handwriting perfectlywell. Look at this and tell me if I am deceiving you. "

At these words Colonel Belford took the letter with a hand thattrembled as though with palsy. He cast his eyes over it, but it is tobe doubted whether he read a single word therein contained. Nevertheless, he saw enough to satisfy his doubts, and he could havewept, so great was the relief from the miserable and overwhelminganxiety that had taken possession of him since the beginning of hisbrother's discourse. 

Meantime our young gentleman, turning to Captain Obadiah, cried out, "Sir, I am indeed an instrument of Providence sent hither to call yourwickedness to account, " and this he spoke with so virtuous an air as tocommand the admiration of all who heard him. "I have, " he continued, "lived with you now for nearly three odious months, and I know everyparticular of your habits and such circumstances of your life as youare aware of. I now proclaim how you have wickedly and sacrilegiouslyturned the Old Free Grace Meeting-House into a slave-pen, whence forabove a year you have conducted a nefarious and most inhuman commercewith the West Indies. "

At these words Captain Obadiah, being thrown so suddenly upon hisdefence, forced himself to give forth a huge and boisterous laugh. "What then?" he cried. "What wickedness is there in that? What if Ihave provided a few sugar plantations with negro slaves? Are there notthose here present who would do no better if the opportunity offered?The place is mine, and I break no law by a bit of quiet slave-trading. "

"I marvel, " cried our young gentleman, still in the same virtuousstrain--"I marvel that you can pass over so wicked a thing thus easily. I myself have counted above fifty graves of your victims on Pig and SowPoint. Repent, sir, while there is yet time. "

But to this adjuration Captain Obadiah returned no other reply than toburst into a most wicked, impudent laugh. 

"Is it so?" cried our young gentleman. "Do you dare me to furtherexposures? Then I have here another evidence to confront you that maymove you to a more serious consideration. " With these words he drewforth from his pocket a packet wrapped in soft white paper. This heunfolded, holding up to the gaze of all a bright and shining object. "This, " he exclaimed, "I found in Captain Obadiah's writing-desk whileI was hunting for some wax with which to seal a letter. " It was thegold snuffbox of the late Collector Goodhouse. "What, " he cried, "haveyou, sir, to offer in explanation of the manner in which this came intoyour possession? See, here engraved upon the lid is the owner's nameand the circumstance of his having saved my own poor life. It was thatfirst called my attention to it, for I well recollect how my fathercompelled me to present it to my savior. How came it into yourpossession, and why have you hidden it away so carefully for all thiswhile? Sir, in the death of Lieutenant Goodhouse I suspect you of amore sinister fault than that of converting yonder poor sanctuary intoa slave-pen. So soon as Captain Morris of your slave-ship returns fromJamaica I shall have him arrested, and shall compel him to explain whathe knows of the circumstances of the Lieutenant's unfortunate murder. "

At the sight of so unexpected an object in the young gentleman's handCaptain Obadiah's jaw fell, and his cavernous mouth gaped as though hehad suddenly been stricken with a palsy. He lifted a trembling hand andslowly and mechanically passed it along that cheek which was sodiscolored with gunpowder stain. Then, suddenly gathering himselftogether and regaining those powers that appeared for a moment to havefled from him, he cried out, aloud: "I swear to God 'twas all anaccident! I pushed him down the steps, and he fell and broke his neck!"

Our young gentleman regarded him with a cold and collected smile. "That, sir, " said he, "you shall have the opportunity to explain to theproper authorities--unless, " he added, "you choose to take yourselfaway from these parts, and to escape the just resentment of those lawsto which you may be responsible for your misdemeanors. "

"I shall, " roared Captain Obadiah, "stand my trial in spite of you all!I shall live to see you in torments yet! I shall--" He gaped andstuttered, but could find no further words with which to convey hisinfinite rage and disappointed spite. Then turning, and with a furiousgesture, he rushed forth and out of the house, thrusting those asidewho stood in his way, and leaving behind him a string of curses fit toset the whole world into a blaze. 

He had destroyed all the gaiety of the wedding-breakfast, but therelief from the prodigious doubts and anxieties that had at firstoverwhelmed those whom he had intended to ruin was of so great a naturethat they thought nothing of so inconsiderable a circumstance. 

As for our young gentleman, he had come forth from the adventure withsuch dignity of deportment and with so exalted an air of generousrectitude that those present could not sufficiently admire at thecontinent discretion of one so young. The young lady whom he hadmarried, if she had before regarded him as a Paris and an Achillesincorporated into one person, now added the wisdom of a Nestor to thecategory of his accomplishments. 

Captain Obadiah, in spite of the defiance he had fulminated against hisenemies, and in spite of the determination he had expressed to remainand to stand his trial, was within a few days known to have suddenlyand mysteriously departed from New Hope. Whether or not he misdoubtedhis own rectitude too greatly to put it to the test of a trial, orwhether the mortification incident upon the failure of his plot was toogreat for him to support, it was clearly his purpose never to returnagain. For within a month the more valuable of his belongings wereremoved from his great house upon Pig and Sow Point and were loadedupon a bark that came into the harbor for that purpose. Thence theywere transported no one knew whither, for Captain Obadiah was neverafterwards observed in those parts. 

Nor was the old meeting-house ever again disturbed by suchmanifestations as had terrified the community for so long a time. Nevertheless, though the Devil was thus exorcised from hisabiding-place, the old church never lost its evil reputation, until it wasfinally destroyed by fire about ten years after the incidents hereinnarrated. 

In conclusion it is only necessary to say that when the HonorableFrederick Dunburne presented his wife to his noble family at home, hewas easily forgiven his _mésalliance_ in view of her extreme beauty andvivacity. Within a year or two Lord Carrickford, his elder brother, died of excessive dissipation in Florence, where he was then attachedto the English Embassy, so that our young gentleman thus became theheir-apparent to his father's title, and so both branches of the familywere united into one. 

THE END