'^wA< t !S3i fimm > mimmm ^^^ 
 
 bvFRANKR-STOCKTON 
 
ALVMNVS BOOK FYND 
 
 
r 
 
Afield and Afloat 
 
PRANK R. STOCKTON'S 
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 NOTHING WAS VISIBLE ABOVE THE WATER BUT THE HEAD AND NECK OF h 
 HORSE AND THE HEADS AND SHOULDERS OF TWO MEN. 
 
Afield and Afloat. By 
 Frank R. Stocktonw.-vw. 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 New York :;:::::::;:::: 1912 
 
Cot>yrtght^ igoo, by 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 
 ^^^/Ao /f/c//r?/)cj>S 
 
INTKODUCTION 
 
 By land or sea; from old-time mansion; 
 from far afield or afloat; from inland waters, 
 or the distant seas, these stories come to- 
 gether and form a company which will pro- 
 ceed, whether on wheels or keels, into that 
 vast region marked " Unknown " on the maps 
 of good and bad fortune. 
 
 These stories wear no uniform, and al- 
 though they stand together, each in its ap- 
 pointed place, they have no common purpose 
 except to make a book. They are related 
 only by the bonds of love or water, for those 
 tales, the interest of which does not rest on 
 the fate of lovers, deal with the fortunes of 
 the brave folk who float on stream or ocean. 
 
 For the moment it was thought that it 
 might be well to give the book the title of 
 '* Love and Water," for there is but one 
 story in it, and that a little one, which does 
 not deal with one or the other or both of 
 
 3940d5 
 
vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 these two great sources of romance. But as 
 it was deemed unwise to designate the tales 
 by a title which might be construed to indi- 
 cate diluted affection, this idea was quickly 
 set aside. 
 
 There are a great many BuUers in this 
 world, and perhaps an equal number of Pod- 
 ingtons, who find that while there is joy 
 afield and happiness afloat, it is dangerous to 
 forsake a chosen element and to do that which 
 may give an amphibious nature to one's ex- 
 periences. The two friends in the opening 
 story are not the first to find out that a mixt- 
 ure of land and water makes mud. 
 
 But in " The Mule-Car " the happy lovers 
 care not whether it is on land or water that 
 they sit together and hold each other's hands. 
 Love to them is everything, and whether it 
 be tossing wave or ragged rocks of which the 
 world around them is composed, they care 
 not. Their Cupid bears no bow, but he weara 
 upon his neck a tinkling bell. 
 
 It is to the troublous storms which of late 
 have swept the Spanish main that a Gover- 
 nor-General of an eastern isle, a Spanish 
 captain, and a Yankee skipper, owe their 
 places in this group of tales. War is stem 
 
INTRODUCTION Vll 
 
 and grim, no matter how we look at it, but 
 on the edges of the most dreadful precipice 
 fair vines and blossoms often grow, and we 
 are lucky if we can pick the flowers without 
 tumbling into the deep ravine. 
 
 The holiday story belongs to the land. 
 Although Christmas comes to those who sail 
 upon the seas, and the New Year begins 
 upon the ocean on the first of January, as it 
 does on mountain or on plain, Santa Claus 
 was never known to come sliding down a 
 mast, nor is it likely that the New Year was 
 ever asked to come in through an open hatch- 
 way. The true Christmas revel demands the 
 warm hearthstone and the sheltering roof. 
 
 So, too, the ghost; the great staircase and 
 the lofty halls of the olden times best please 
 his fancy, and although the spirit of a de- 
 parted mariner might appear on quarter-deck, 
 in cabin, or even at the wheel, it would, most 
 likely, present a dim and watery aspect. 
 The true ghost, though of no weight what- 
 ever, demands solid ground to tread upon, 
 whether said ground be tradition or old oaken 
 floors. 
 
 The boomerang does not always hit its 
 mark, and it often fails to come back again 
 
Viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 in the manner and direction wMcli was ex- 
 pected of it, but to the onlooker a devious 
 course and unexpected deflections may be 
 more interesting than a commonplace flight 
 direct to its object, and an ordinary return to 
 the hands of the hurler. 
 
 A well-tied " sailor's knot " has nothing 
 Gordian about it. It may appear difficult, 
 or even impossible, to untie it, but, if one 
 knows how to give it the proper pull, the 
 thing is done ; the knot disappears. Thus it 
 is in the story in which Captain Brower ties 
 a knot which it would appear no man could 
 loose; yet, in spite of all this subtle inge- 
 nuity, old Captain Lopper finds a hidden end 
 of a rope, and, although it may be said that 
 he uses his teeth, the knot was pulled apart 
 and Love's restrictions fell away. 
 
 Love has nothing to do with " The Ghosts 
 in My Tower," and there is no water in the 
 story. Like the tower, this little tale stands 
 up alone; as for the ghost, he hated water, 
 and, as far as was possible, avoided contact 
 with the land. Thus, although steadfastly 
 keeping its place in the line, this story is not 
 unlike an unarmed Esquimo marching into 
 China with the International marines. 
 
INTRODUCTION ix 
 
 " The Landsman's Tale " came into ex- 
 istence in a fashion somewhat odd. It was 
 first told to a company of salt-wrinkled Cape 
 Cod captains, all with memories laden with 
 wild doings of the winds and waves, and rocks 
 were never so hard and stern as were the 
 countenances of these old mariners, while 
 listening to the tale the landsman told. But 
 not one word was heard in deprecation. If 
 a traveller from afar had told them that he 
 had seen a turtle of Galapagos playing upon 
 a violoncello, they would have regarded him 
 with the same silent, stony stare with which 
 they gazed upon the landsman who presumed 
 to tell a story of the sea. 
 
 With the rippling of water; the rumbling 
 of wheels; the tinkling of a bell; the boom- 
 ing of cannon; the silent footsteps of ghosts; 
 the crash of timbers, and the roar of a hurri- 
 cane, these stories now go on, and good luck 
 go with them. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 The Buller-Podington Compact . / 
 
 The Romance of a Mule-Car / . J 7 
 
 '^he Governor- General .... 65 
 
 Old Applejqy's Ghost 107 
 
 Struck by a Boomerang . ... 1^9 
 The Skipper and El Capitan . . 207 
 
 Come In, New Year! 24^ 
 
 A SaUofs Knot 277 
 
 The Great Staircase at Landover 
 
 Hall i59 
 
 The Ghosts in My Tower . . . ^87 
 The Landsman's Tale - - - - 399 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Nothing was visible above the water but 
 the head and neck of a horse and the 
 heads and shoulders of two men . Frontispiece 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 "Good!** said he; "it is a compact'* . 6 
 
 The wagon continued to go backward, de- 
 spite the efforts of the agitated horse 
 to find a footing on the crumbling 
 edge of the bank !2 
 
 " Don*t try to stand up ; hold on to the 
 boom and creep forward. Steady now, 
 or you'll be overboard " ^o 
 
 " 'Bring me my glass/ cried Senor Pro^ 
 Ventura, rising hastily" yo 
 
 '"At war with my mother-land!' he ex- 
 claimed" ... 74 
 
XIV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 " Crashed through her sides and ran for 
 nearly half its length into the vessel " 226 
 
 " They dropped like cats" 228 
 
 On the outskirts of the village we met a 
 jolly old sea captain 280 
 
 "Again I lifted— I pulled— I strained 
 every muscle, every sinew" . . . > 314 
 
 "It was Miss Moulton" 344 
 
 Mr. Marchmay took dinner with me at 
 the inn j66 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON 
 COMPACT 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON 
 COMPACT 
 
 "I TELL you, William," said Thomas BuUer 
 1 to his friend, Mr. Podington, " I am 
 truly sorry about it, but I cannot arrange for 
 it this year. Now, as to my invitation — that 
 is very different." 
 
 "Of course it is different," was the reply, 
 " but I am obliged to say, as I said before, 
 that I really cannot accept it." 
 
 Remarks similar to these had been made by 
 Thomas Buller and William Podington at 
 least once a year for some five years. They 
 were old friends; they had been school-boys 
 together and had been associated in business 
 since they were young men. They had now 
 reached a vigorous middle age; they were 
 each married, and each had a house in the 
 country in which he resided for a part of the 
 year. They were warmly attached to each 
 other, and each was the best friend the other 
 
'^l^pME 'euller-podinqton compact 
 
 had in this world. But during all these years 
 neither of them had visited the other in his 
 country home. 
 
 The reason for this avoidance of each other 
 at their respective rural residences may be 
 briefly stated. Mr. Buller's country house 
 was situated by the sea, and he was very fond 
 of the water. He had a good cat-boat, which 
 he sailed himself with much judgment and 
 skill, and it was his greatest pleasure to take 
 his friends and visitors upon little excursions 
 on the bay. But Mr. Podington was des- 
 perately afraid of the water, and he was par- 
 ticularly afraid of any craft sailed by an ama- 
 teur. If his friend Buller would have em- 
 ployed a professional mariner, of years and 
 experience, to steer and manage his boat, Pod- 
 ington might have been willing to take an 
 occasional sail; but as Buller always insisted 
 upon sailing his own boat, and took it ill if any 
 of his visitors doubted his ability to do so prop- 
 erly, Podington did not wish to wound the 
 self-love of his friend, and he did not wish to 
 be drowned. Consequently he could not bring 
 himself to consent to go to Puller's house by 
 the sea. 
 
 To receive his good friend Buller at his own 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 5 
 
 house in the beautiful upland region in which 
 he lived would have been a great joy to Mr. 
 Podington; but Buller could not be induced 
 to visit him. Podington was very fond of 
 horses and always drove himself, while Buller 
 was more afraid of horses than he was of ele- 
 phants or lions. To one or more horses driven 
 by a coachman of years and experience he did 
 not always object, but to a horse driven by 
 Podington, who had much experience and 
 knowledge regarding mercantile affairs, but 
 was merely an amateur horseman, he most de- 
 cidedly and strongly objected. He did not 
 wish to hurt his friend's feelings by refusing 
 to go out to drive with him, but he would not 
 rack his own nervous system by accompanying 
 him. Therefore it was that he had not yet 
 visited the beautiful upland country residence 
 of Mr. Podington. 
 
 At last this state of things grew awkward. 
 Mrs. Buller and Mrs. Podington, often with 
 their families, visited each other at their coun- 
 try houses, but the fact that on these occasions 
 they were never accompanied by their hus- 
 bands caused more and more gossip among 
 their neighbors, both in the upland country 
 and by the sea. 
 
6 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 One day in spring as the two sat in their 
 city office, where Mr. Podington had just re- 
 peated his annual invitation, his friend replied 
 to him thus: 
 
 " William, if I come to see you this sum- 
 mer, will you visit me? The thing is begin- 
 ning to look a little ridiculous, and people are 
 talking about it." 
 
 Mr. Podington put his hand to his brow 
 and for a few moments closed his eyes. In his 
 mind he saw a cat-boat upon its side, the sails 
 spread out over the water, and two men, al- 
 most entirely immersed in the waves, making 
 efforts to reach the side of the boat. One of 
 these was getting on very well — that was Pul- 
 ler. The other seemed about to sink, his arms 
 were waving uselessly in the air — that was 
 himself. Put he opened his eyes and looked 
 bravely out of the window; it was time to 
 conquer all this; it was indeed growing ridicu- 
 lous. Puller had been sailing many years and 
 had never been upset. 
 
 " Yes," said he, " I will do it; I am ready 
 any time you name." 
 
 Mr. Puller rose and stretched out his hand. 
 " Good! " said he. ." It is a compact! " 
 
 Puller was the first to make the promised 
 
"GOOD!" SAID HE; "IT IS A COMPACT." 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 7 
 
 country visit. He had not mentioned the sub- 
 ject of horses to his friend, but he knew 
 through Mrs. Buller that Podington still con- 
 tinued to be his own driver. She had in- 
 formed him, however, that at present he was 
 accustomed to drive a big black horse which, 
 in her opinion, was as gentle and reliable as 
 these animals ever became, and she could not 
 imagine how anybody could be afraid of him. 
 So when, the next morning after his arrival, 
 Mr. Buller was asked by his host if he would 
 like to take a drive, he suppressed a certain 
 rising emotion and said that it would please 
 him very much. 
 
 When the good black horse had jogged 
 along a pleasant road for half an hour Mr. 
 Buller began to feel that, perhaps, for all 
 these years he had been laboring under a mis- 
 conception. It seemed possible that there 
 were some horses to which surrounding cir- 
 cumstances in the shape of sights and sounds 
 were so irrelevant that they were to a certain 
 degree entirely safe, even when guided and 
 controlled by an amateur hand. As they 
 passed a piece of meadow-land, somebody be- 
 hind a hedge fired a gun; Mr. Buller was 
 frightened, but the horse was not. 
 
8 THE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 
 
 " William/' said Buller, looking cheerfully 
 around him, " I had no idea that you lived in 
 such a pretty country. In fact, I might al- 
 most call it beautiful. You have not any 
 wide stretch of water, such as I like so much, 
 but here is a pretty river, those rolling hills 
 are very charming, and, beyond, you have 
 the blue of the mountains." 
 
 "It is lovely," said his friend; "I never 
 get tired of driving through this country. Of 
 course the sea-side is very fine, but here we 
 have such a variety of scenery." 
 
 Mr. Buller could not help thinking that 
 sometimes the sea-side was a little monoto- 
 nous, and that he had lost a great deal of 
 pleasure by not varying his summers by go- 
 ing up to spend a week or two with Podington. 
 
 " William," said he, " how long have you 
 had this horse ? " 
 
 "About two years," said Mr. Podington; 
 " before I got him, I used to drive a pair." 
 
 " Heavens ! " thought Buller, " how lucky 
 I was not to come two years ago! " And his 
 regrets for not sooner visiting his friend great- 
 ly decreased. 
 
 Now they came to a place where the stream, 
 by which the road ran, had been dammed for 
 a mill and had widened into a beautiful pond. 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 9 
 
 / " There now! " cried Mr. BuUer. " That's 
 what I like. William, you seem to have every- 
 thing! This is really a very pretty sheet of 
 water, and the reflections of the trees over 
 there make a charming picture ; you can't get 
 that at the sea-side, you know." 
 
 Mr. Podington was delighted; his face 
 glowed; he was rejoiced at the pleasure of 
 his friend. " I tell you, Thomas," said he, 
 " that " 
 
 " William ! " exclaimed Buller, with a sud- 
 den squirm in his seat, " what is that I hear? 
 Is that a train? " 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Podington, " that is the 
 ten-forty, up." 
 
 " Does it come near here? " asked Mr. Bu^ 
 ler, nervously. "Does it go over that 
 bridge?" 
 
 " Yes," said Podington, " but it can't hurt 
 us, for our road goes under the bridge; we 
 are perfectly safe; there is no risk of acci- 
 dent." 
 
 " But your horse ! Your horse ! " exclaimed 
 Buller, as the train came nearer and nearer. 
 "What will he do?" 
 
 "Do?" said Podington; "he'll do what 
 he is doing now; he doesn't mind trains." 
 
10 THE BULLEB-PODINGTON COMPACT 
 
 " But look here, William/' exclaimed Bul- 
 ler, " it will get there just as we do; no horse 
 could stand a roaring in the air like that! " 
 
 Podington laughed. " He will not mind 
 it in the least/' said he. 
 
 " Come, come now," cried Buller. " Keal- 
 ly, I can't stand this! Just stop a minute, 
 William, and let me get out. It sets all my 
 nerves quivering." 
 
 Mr. Podington smiled with a superior smile. 
 " Oh, you needn't get out," said he; " there's 
 not the least danger in the world. But I don't 
 want to make you nervous, and I will turn 
 around and drive the other way." 
 
 " But you can't! " screamed Buller; " this 
 road is not wide enough, and that train is 
 nearly here. Please stop ! " 
 
 The imputation that the road was not wide 
 enough for him to turn in was too much for 
 Mr. Podington to bear. He was very proud of 
 his ability to turn a vehicle in a narrow place. 
 
 "Turn!" said he; "that's the easiest 
 thing in the world. See; a little to the right, 
 then a back, then a sweep to the left and we 
 will be going the other way." And instantly 
 he began the manoeuvre in which he was such 
 an adept. 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 11 
 
 " Oh, Thomas ! '' cried Buller, half rising 
 .in Ms seat, " that train is almost here! " 
 
 " And we are almost — " Mr. Podington 
 was about to say " turned around,'' but he 
 stopped. Mr. BuUer's exclamations had made 
 him a little nervous, and, in his anxiety to turn 
 quickly, he had pulled upon his horse's bit with 
 more energy than was actually necessary, and 
 his nervousness being communicated to the 
 horse, that animal backed with such extraor- 
 dinary vigor, that the hind wheels of the 
 wagon went over a bit of grass by the road and 
 into the water. The sudden jolt gave a new 
 impetus to Mr. Buller's fears. 
 
 " You'll upset! " he cried, and not thinking 
 of what he was about, he laid hold of his 
 friend's arm. The horse, startled by this sud- 
 den jerk upon his bit, which, combined with 
 the thundering of the train, now on the 
 bridge, made him think that something ex- 
 traordinary was about to happen, gave a sud- 
 den and forcible start backward, so that not 
 only the hind wheels of the light wagon, but 
 the fore wheels and his own hind legs went 
 into the water. As the bank at this spot sloped 
 steeply, the wagon continued to go backward, 
 despite the efforts of the agitated horse to find 
 a footing on the crumbling edge of the bank. 
 
12 THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 
 
 " Whoa! " cried Mr. BuUer. 
 
 " Get up ! '' exclaimed Mr. Podington, ap- 
 plying his whip upon the plunging beast. 
 
 But exclamations and castigations had no 
 effect upon the horse. The original bed of the 
 stream ran close to the road, and the bank was 
 so steep and the earth so soft that it was im- 
 possible for the horse to advance or even main- 
 tain his footing. Back, back, he went, until 
 the whole equipage was in the water and the 
 wagon was afloat. 
 
 This vehicle was a road wagon, without a 
 top, and the joints of its box-body were tight 
 enough to prevent the water from entering it 
 immediately; so, though somewhat deeply 
 sunken, it rested upon the water. There was 
 a current in this part of the pond and it turned 
 the wagon down-stream. The horse was now 
 entirely immersed in the water, with the ex- 
 ception of his head and the upper part of his 
 neck, and, unable to reach the bottom with 
 his feet, he made vigorous efforts to swim. 
 
 Mr. Podington, the reins and the whip in 
 his hands, sat horrified and pale ; the accident 
 was so sudden, he was so startled and so 
 frightened, that, for a moment, he could not 
 speak a word. Mr. Buller, on the other hand. 
 
OQ 
 
 
THE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 13 
 
 was now lively and alert. The wagon had no 
 sooner floated away from the shore than he felt 
 himself at home. He was upon his favorite 
 element; water had no terrors for him. He 
 saw that his friend was nearly frightened out 
 of his wits, and that, figuratively speaking, he 
 must step to the helm and take charge of the 
 vessel. He stood up and gazed about him. ' 
 
 "Put her across stream!" he shouted; 
 " she can't make headway against this current. 
 Head her to that clump of trees on the other 
 side; the bank is lower there, and we can 
 beach her. Move a little the other way, we 
 must trim boat. IN^ow then, pull on your star- 
 board rein." 
 
 Podington obeyed, and the horse slightly 
 changed his direction. 
 
 " You see," said Buller, " it won't do to 
 sail straight across, because the current would 
 carry us down and land us below that spot." 
 
 Mr. Podington said not a word; he ex- 
 pected every moment to see the horse sink into 
 a watery grave. 
 
 " It isn't so bad after all, is it, Podington? " 
 continued Buller. " If we had a rudder and 
 a bit of a sail it would be a great help to the 
 horse; this wagon is not a bad boat." 
 
14 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 The despairing Podington looked at his 
 feet. " It's coming in/' he said in a husky 
 .voice. " Thomas, the water is over my 
 shoes ! " 
 
 " That's so," said Buller. " I am so used 
 to water I didn't notice it. She leaks. Do 
 you carry anything to bail her out with? " 
 * " Bail ! " -cried Podington, now finding his 
 voice. " Oh, Thomas, we are sinking! " 
 
 " That's so," said Buller; " she leaks like 
 a sieve." 
 
 The weight of the running gear and of the 
 two men was entirely too much for the buoy- 
 ancy of the wagon body. The water rapidly 
 rose toward the top of its sides. 
 
 " We are going to drown ! " cried Poding- 
 ton, suddenly rising. 
 
 " Lick him ! Lick him ! " exclaimed Buller. 
 " Make him swim faster ! " 
 
 "There's nothing to lick," -cried Poding- 
 ton, vainly lashing at the water, for he could 
 not reach the horse's head. The poor man was 
 dreadfully frightened; he had never even 
 imagined it possible that he should be drowned 
 in his own wagon. 
 
 " Whoop ! " cried Buller, as the water rose 
 over the sides. " Steady yourself, old boy, 
 
THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 15 
 
 or you'll go overboard! " And the next mo- 
 ment the wagon body sank out of sight. 
 
 But it did not go down very far. The deep- 
 est part of the channel of the stream had been 
 passed, and with a bump the wheels struck 
 the bottom. 
 
 " Heavens ! " . cried BuUer, " we are 
 aground." 
 
 ^^ Aground ! " exclaimed Podington, 
 "Heaven be praised! " 
 
 As the two men stood up in the submerged 
 wagon the water was above their knees, and 
 when Podington looked out over the surface 
 of the pond, now so near his face, it seemed 
 like a sheet of water he had never seen before. 
 It was something horrible, threatening to rise 
 and envelop him. He trembled so that he 
 could scarcely keep his footing. 
 
 " William,''-said his companion, " you must 
 sit down; if you don't, you'll tumble over- 
 board and be drowned. There is nothing for 
 you to hold to." 
 
 " Sit down," said Podington, gazing blank- 
 ly at the water around him, " I can't do that ! " 
 
 At this moment the horse made a slight 
 movement. Having touched bottom after his 
 efforts in swimming across the main bed of 
 
16 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 the stream, with a floating wagon in tow, he 
 had stood for a few moments, his head and 
 neck well above water, and his back barely 
 visible beneath the surface. Having recov- 
 ered his breath, he now thought it was time to 
 move on. 
 
 At the first step of the horse Mr. Poding- 
 ton began to totter. Instinctively he clutched 
 BuUer. 
 
 "Sit down!" cried the latter, "or you'll 
 have us both overboard." There was no help 
 for it; down sat Mr. Podington; and, as with 
 a great splash he came heavily upon the seat, 
 the water rose to his waist. 
 
 " Ough! " said he. " Thomas, shout for 
 help." 
 
 " No use doing that," replied BuUer, still 
 standing on his nautical legs ; " I don't see 
 anybody, and I don't see any boat. We'll get 
 out all right. Just you stick tight to the 
 thwart." 
 
 " The what? " feebly asked the other. 
 
 " Oh, the seat, I mean. "We can get to the 
 shore all right if you steer the horse straight. 
 Head him more across the pond." 
 .. " I can't head him," cried Podington. " I 
 have dropped the reins! " 
 

 TEE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 17 
 
 " Good gracious! " cried Mr. Buller, 
 " that's bad. Can't you steer him by shouting 
 'Gee 'and 'Haw?'" 
 
 '^ No," said Podington, " he isn't an ox; 
 but perhaps I can stop him." Then with as 
 much voice as he could summon, he called 
 out: "Whoa! " and the horse stopped. 
 
 " If you can't steer him any other way," 
 said Buller, " we must get the reins. Lend 
 me your whip." v ^ 
 
 " I have dropped that too," said Poding- ''^ --^a-^ 
 ton; " there it floats." .oJ^^''''-^ 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Buller, " I guess I'll have 
 to dive for them; if he were to run away, we 
 should be in an awful fix." 
 
 "Don't get out! Don't get out!" ex- 
 claimed Podington. " You can reach over 
 the dash-board." 
 
 "That's under water," said Buller, "it 
 will be the same thing as diving; but it's got 
 to be done, and I'll try it. Don't you move 
 now; I am more used to water than you are." 
 
 Mr. Buller took ofl his hat and asked his 
 friend to hold it. He thought of his watch 
 and other contents of his pockets, but there 
 was no place to put them, so he gave them no 
 more consideration. Then bravely getting on 
 
 \ 
 
 ../ 
 
18 THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 
 
 his knees in the water, he leaned over the dash- 
 board, almost disappearing from sight. With 
 his disengaged hand Mr. Podington grasped 
 the submerged coat-tails of his friend. 
 
 In a few seconds the upper part of Mr. Bul- 
 ler rose from the water. He was dripping and 
 puffing, and Mr. Podington could not but 
 think what a difference it made in the appear- 
 ance of his friend to have his hair plastered 
 close to his head. 
 
 " I got hold of one of them," said the sput- 
 tering Buller, " but it was fast to something 
 and I couldn't get it loose." 
 
 " Was it thick and wide? " asked Poding- 
 ton. 
 
 " Yes," was the answer; " it did seem so." 
 
 " Oh, that was a trace," said Podington; 
 " I don't want that; the reins are thinner and 
 lighter." 
 
 " l^ow I remember they are," said Buller. 
 " Pll go down again." 
 
 Again Mr. Buller leaned over the dash- 
 board, and this time he remained down longer, 
 and when he came up he puffed and sputtered 
 more than before. 
 
 " Is this it? " said he, holding up a strip of 
 wet leather. 
 
tHE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 19 
 
 " Yes," said Podington, " youVe got the 
 reins." 
 
 " Well, take them, and steer. I would have 
 found them sooner if his tail had not got into 
 my eyes. That long tail's floating down there 
 and spreading itself out like a fan; it tangled 
 itself all around my head. It would have been 
 much easier if he had been a bob-tailed horse." 
 
 " 'Now then," said Podington, " take your 
 hat, Thomas, and I'll try to drive." 
 
 Mr. BuUer put on his hat, which was the 
 only dry thing about him, and the nervous 
 Podington started the horse so suddenly that 
 even the sea-legs of BuUer were surprised, and 
 he came very near going backward into the 
 water; but recovering himself, he sat down. 
 
 " I don't wonder you did not like to do this, 
 William," said he. " Wet as I am, it's ghast- 
 ly! " 
 
 Encouraged by his master's voice, and by 
 the feeling of the familiar hand upon his bit, 
 the horse moved bravely on. 
 
 But the bottom was very rough and uneven. 
 Sometimes the wheels struck a large stone, ter- 
 rifying Mr. BuUer, who thought they were 
 going to upset; and sometimes they sank into 
 soft mud, horrifying Mr. Podington, who 
 thought they were going to drown. 
 
20 THE BULLEB-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 Thus proceeding, they presented a strange 
 sight. At first Mr. Podington held his hands 
 above the water as he drove, but he soon found 
 this awkward, and dropped them to their usual 
 position, so that nothing was visible above the 
 water but the head and neck of a horse and the 
 heads and shoulders of two men. 
 
 IS[ow the submarine equipage came to a low 
 place in the bottom, and even Mr. Buller shud- 
 dered as the water rose to his chin. Poding- 
 ton gave a howl of horror, and the horse, with 
 high, uplifted head, was obliged to swim. At 
 this moment a boy with a gun came strolling 
 along the road, and hearing Mr. Podington's 
 cry, he cast his eyes over the water. Instinc- 
 tively he raised his weapon to his shoulder, and 
 then, in an instant, perceiving that the objects 
 he beheld were not aquatic birds, he dropped 
 his gun and ran, yelling, down the road to- 
 ward the mill. 
 
 But the hollow in the bottom was a narrow 
 one, and when it was passed the depth of the 
 water gradually decreased. The back of the 
 horse came into view, the dash-board became 
 visible, and the bodies and the spirits of the 
 two men rapidly rose. Now there was vigor- 
 ous splashing and tugging, and then a jet black 
 
TEE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 21 
 
 horse, shining as if he had been newly var- 
 nished, pulled a dripping wagon containing 
 two well-soaked men upon a shelving shore. 
 
 " Oh, I am chilled to the bone! " said Pod- 
 ington. 
 
 " I should think so," replied his friend; " if 
 you have got to be wet, it is a great deal 
 pleasanter under the water." 
 
 There was a field-road on this side of the 
 pond which Podington well knew, and pro- 
 ceeding along this they came to the bridge and 
 got into the main road. 
 
 " N^ow, we must get home as fast as we can," 
 cried Podington, " or we shall both take cold. 
 I wdsh I hadn't lost my whip. Hi now ! Get 
 along! 'I 
 
 'odington was now full of life and energy, 
 the wheels were on the hard road, and he was 
 himself again. 
 
 When the horse found his head turned to- 
 ward his home, he set off at a great rate. 
 
 " Hi there! " cried Podington. " I am so 
 sorry I lost my whip." 
 
 " Whip! " said Puller, holding fast to the 
 side of the seat; " surely you don't want him 
 to go any faster than this. And look here, 
 William," he added, " it seems to me we are 
 
22 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 much more likely to take cold in our wet 
 clothes if we rush through the air in this way. 
 Really, it seems to me the horse is running 
 away." 
 
 " ISTot a bit of it! " cried Podington. " He 
 wants to get home, and he wants his dinner. 
 Isn't he a fine horse ? Look how he steps out ! " 
 
 " Steps out! '' exclaimed Buller; ^' I think 
 I'd like to step out myself. Don't you think 
 it would be wiser for me to walk home, Will- 
 iam? That will warm me up." 
 
 " It will take you an hour," said his friend. 
 " Stay where you are, and I'll have you in a 
 dry suit of clothes in less than fifteen minutes." 
 
 " I tell you, William," said Mr. Buller, as 
 the two sat smoking after dinner, " what you 
 ought to do ; you should never go out driving 
 without a life-preserver and a pair of oars; I 
 always take them. It would make you feel 
 safer." 
 
 Mr. Buller went home the next day, be- 
 cause Mr. Podington's clothes did not fit him, 
 and his own out-door suit was so shrunken as 
 to be uncomfortable. Besides, there was an- 
 other reason," connected with the desire of 
 horses to reach their homes, which prompted 
 his return. But he had not forgotten his com- 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 23 
 
 pact with his friend, and in the course of a 
 week he wrote to Podington, inviting him to 
 spend some days with him. Mr. Podington 
 was a man of honor, and in spite of his recent 
 unfortunate water experience he would not 
 break his word. He went to Mr. Buller's sea- 
 side home at the time appointed. 
 
 Early on the morning after his arrival, be- 
 fore the family was up, Mr. Podington went 
 out and strolled down to the edge of the bay. 
 He went to look at Puller's boat. He was well 
 aware that he would be asked to take a sail, 
 and as Puller had driven with him, it would 
 be impossible for him to decline sailing with 
 Puller; but he must see the boat. There was 
 a train for his home at a quarter past seven; 
 if he were not on the premises he could not be 
 asked to sail. If Puller's boat were a little, 
 flimsy thing, he would take that train — but 
 he would wait and see. 
 
 There was only one small boat anchored 
 near the beach, and a man — apparently a fish- 
 erman — informed Mr. Podington that it be- 
 longed to Mr. Puller. Podington looked at it 
 eagerly; it was not so very small and not flimsy. 
 
 " Do you consider that a safe boat? " he 
 asked the fisherman. 
 
24 THE BULLER-POBINOTON COMPACT 
 
 "Safe!" replied the man. "You could 
 not upset her if you tried. Look at her breadth 
 of beam! You could go anywhere in that 
 boat! Are you thinking of buying her? " 
 
 The idea that he would think of buying a 
 boat made Mr. Podington laugh. The in- 
 formation that it would be impossible to upset 
 the little vessel had greatly cheered him, and 
 he could laugh. 
 
 Shortly after breakfast Mr. Buller, like a 
 nurse with a dose of medicine, came to Mr. 
 Podington with the expected invitation to take 
 a sail. 
 
 " [N'ow, William," said his host, " I under- 
 stand perfectly your feeling about boats, and 
 what I wish to prove to you is that it is a feel- 
 ing without any foundation. I don't want to 
 shock you or to make you nervous, so I am not 
 going to take you to-day on the bay in my 
 boat. You are as safe on the bay as you would 
 be on land — a little safer, perhaps, under cer- 
 tain circumstances, to which we will not allude 
 — but still it is sometimes a little rough, and 
 this, at first, might cause you some uneasiness, 
 and so I am going to let you begin your edu- 
 cation in the sailing line on perfectly smooth 
 water. About three miles back of us there is 
 
THE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 25 
 
 a very pretty lake several miles long. It is 
 part of the canal system whicli connects the 
 town with the railroad. I have sent my boat 
 to the town, and we can walk up there and go 
 by the canal to the lake; it is only about three 
 miles." 
 
 If he had to sail at all, this kind of sailing 
 suited Mr. Podington. A canal, a quiet lake, 
 and a boat which could not be upset. When 
 they reached the town the boat was in the 
 canal, ready for them. 
 
 " !N'ow," said Mr. BuUer, " you get in and 
 make yourself comfortable. My idea is to 
 hitch on to a canal-boat and be towed to the 
 lake. The boats generally start about this 
 time in the morning, and I will go and see 
 about it." 
 
 Mr. Podington, under the direction of his 
 friend, took a seat in the stern of the sail- 
 boat, and then he remarked: 
 
 " Thomas, have you a life-preserver on 
 board? You know I am not used to any kind 
 of vessel, and I am clumsy. ITothing might 
 happen to the boat, but I might trip and fall 
 overboard, and I can^t swim." 
 
 "All right," eaid Buller, "here's a life- 
 preserver, and you can put it on. I want you 
 
26 THE BULLER-PODINGTON OOMPAOT 
 
 to feel perfectly safe. Now I will go and see 
 about the tow.'' 
 
 But Mr. Buller found that the canal-boats 
 would not start at their usual time; the load- 
 ing of one of them was not finished, and he 
 was informed that he might have to wait for 
 an hour or more. This did not suit Mr. Buller 
 at all, and he did not hesitate to show his an- 
 noyance. 
 
 " I tell you, sir, what you can do," said one 
 of the men in charge of the boats; " if you 
 don't want to wait till we are ready to start, 
 we'll let you have a boy and a horse to tow 
 you up to the lake. That won't cost you much, 
 and they'll be back before we want 'em." 
 
 The bargain was made, and Mr. Buller joy- 
 fully returned to his boat with the intelligence 
 that they were not to wait for the canal-boats. 
 A long rope, with a horse attached to the other 
 end of it, was speedily made fast to the boat, 
 and with a boy at the head of the horse, they 
 started up the canal. 
 
 " Now this is the kind of sailing I like," 
 said Mr. Podington. " If I lived near a canal 
 I believe I would buy a boat and train my 
 horse to tow. I could have a long pair of 
 rope-lines and drive him myself; then when 
 
TEE BULLER-POBINQTON COMPACT 27 
 
 the roads were rough and bad the canal would 
 always be smooth." 
 
 " This is all very nice/' replied Mr. Buller, 
 who sat by the tiller to keep the boat away 
 from the bank, " and I am glad to see you in a 
 boat under any circumstances. Do you know, 
 William, that although I did not plan it, there 
 could not have been a better way to begin your 
 sailing education. Here we glide along, slow- 
 ly and gently, with no possible thought of 
 danger, for if the boat should suddenly spring 
 a leak, as if it were the body of a wagon, all 
 we would have to do would be to step on shore, 
 and by the time you get to the end of the 
 canal you will like this gentle motion so much 
 that you will be perfectly ready to begin the 
 second stage of your nautical education." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Podington. " How long 
 did you say this canal is? " 
 
 " About three miles," answered his friend, 
 " Then we will go into the lock and in a few 
 minutes we shall be on the lake." 
 
 " So far as I am concerned," said Mr. Pod- 
 ington, " I wish the canal were twelve miles 
 long. I cannot imagine anything pleasanter 
 than this. If I lived anywhere near a canal — 
 a long canal I mean, this one is too short — 
 I'd " 
 
28 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 " Come, come now/' interrupted Buller, 
 *^ don't be content to stay in the primary 
 school just because it is easy. When we get 
 on the lake I will show you that in a boat, with 
 a gentle breeze, such as we are likely to have 
 to-day, you will find the motion quite as pleas- 
 ing, and ever so much more inspiriting. I 
 should not be a bit surprised, William, if after 
 you have been two or three times on the lake, 
 you will ask me — yes, positively ask me — to 
 take you out on the bay ! '' 
 
 Mr. Podington smiled, and leaning back- 
 ward, he looked up at the beautiful blue sky. 
 
 " You can't give me anything better than 
 this, Thomas," said he ; " but you needn't 
 think I am weakening; you drove with me, 
 and I will sail with you." 
 
 The thought came into Buller's mind that 
 he had done both of these things with Poding- 
 ton, but he did not wish to call up unpleasant 
 memories, and said nothing. 
 
 About half a mile from the town there stood 
 a small cottage where house-cleaning was go- 
 ing on, and on a fence, not far from the canal, 
 there hung a carpet gayly adorned with stripes 
 and spots of red and yellow. 
 
 When the drowsy tow-horse came abreast of 
 
THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 29 
 
 the house, and the carpet caught his eye, he 
 suddenly stopped and gave a start toward the 
 canal. Then, impressed with a horror of the 
 glaring apparition, he gathered himself up, 
 and with a bound dashed along the tow-path. 
 The astounded boy gave a shout, but was 
 speedily left behind. The boat of Mr. BuUer 
 shot forward as if she had been struck by a 
 squall. 
 
 The terrified horse sped on as though a red 
 and yellow demon were after him. The boat 
 bounded, and plunged, and frequently struck 
 the grassy bank of the canal, as if it would 
 break to pieces. Mr. Podington clutched the 
 boom to keep himself from being thrown 
 out, while Mr. Buller, both hands upon the 
 tiller, frantically endeavored to keep the boat 
 from the bank. 
 
 " William! " he screamed, " he is running 
 away with us! We shall be dashed to pieces! 
 Can't you get forward and cast off that line ? " 
 
 "What do you mean?" cried Podington, 
 as the boom gave a great jerk as if it would 
 break its fastenings and drag him overboard. 
 
 " I mean untie the tow-line. We'll be 
 smashed if you don't ! I can't leave this tiller. 
 Don't try to stand up; hold on to the boom 
 
SJ THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 and creep forward. Steady now, or you'll be 
 overboard! " 
 
 Mr. Podington stumbled to the bow of the 
 boat, his efforts greatly impeded by the big 
 cork life-preserver tied under his arms; the 
 motion of the boat was so violent and erratic 
 that he was obliged to hold on to the mast 
 with one arm and to try to loosen the knot with 
 the other; but there was a great strain on the 
 rope, and he could do nothing with one hand. 
 
 " Cut it ! Cut it ! " cried Mr. Buller. 
 
 " I haven't a knife," replied Podington. 
 
 Mr. Buller was terribly frightened; his 
 boat was rushing through the water as never 
 vessel of her class had sped since sail-boats were 
 invented, bumping against the bank as if she 
 w^ere a billiard-ball rebounding from the edge 
 of a table. He forgot he was in a boat; he 
 only knew that for the first time in his life 
 he was in a runaway. He let go the tiller. It 
 was of no use to him. 
 
 " William," he cried, " let us jump out the 
 next time we are near enough to shore! " 
 
 " Don't do that! Don't do that! " replied 
 Podington. " Don't jump out in a runaway; 
 that is the way to get hurt. Stick to your seat, 
 my boy; he can't keep this up much longer. 
 He'll lose his wind! " 
 
4 i: ,; 
 
 DON'T TRY TO STAND UP; HOLD ON TO THE BOOM AND CREEP FORWARD. 
 STEADY NOW, OR YOU'LL BE OVERBOARD." 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 31 
 
 Mr. Podington was greatly excited, but he 
 was not frightened, as BuUer was. He had 
 been in a runaway before, and he could not 
 help thinking how much better a wagon was 
 than a boat in such a case. 
 
 " If he were hitched up shorter, and I had a 
 snaffle-bit and a stout pair of reins," thought 
 he, " I could soon bring him up.'' 
 
 But Mr. Buller was rapidly losing his wits. 
 The horse seemed to be going faster than 
 ever, the boat bumped harder against the 
 bank, and at one time he thought they would 
 turn over. 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck him. 
 
 " William," he shouted, " tip that anchor 
 over the side! Throw it in, any way! " 
 
 Mr. Podington looked about him, and, al- 
 most under his feet, saw the anchor. He did 
 not instantly comprehend why Buller wanted 
 it thrown overboard, but this was not a time 
 to ask questions. The difficulties imposed by 
 the life-preserver, and the necessity of holding 
 on with one hand, interfered very much with 
 his getting at the anchor and throwing it over 
 the side ; but at last he succeeded, and just as 
 the boat threw up her bow as if she were about 
 to jump on shore, the anchor went out and its 
 
32 THE BULLEB-POBINeTON COMPACT 
 
 line shot after it. There was an irregular 
 trembling of the boat as the anchor straggled 
 along the bottom of the canal ; then there was 
 a great shock; the boat ran into the bank and 
 stopped; the tow-line was tightened like a 
 guitar-string, and the horse, jerked back with 
 great violence, tumbled in a heap upon the 
 ground. 
 
 Instantly Mr. Podington was on the shore 
 and running at the top of his speed toward the 
 horse. The astounded animal had scarcely 
 begun to struggle to his feet when Podington 
 rushed upon him, pressed his head back to the 
 ground, and sat upon it. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " he cried, waving his hat above 
 his head. " Get out, Buller; he is all right 
 now! " 
 
 Presently Mr. Buller approached, very 
 much shaken up. 
 
 " All right ? '' he said. " I don't call a horse 
 flat in a road with a man on his head all right; 
 but hold him down till we get him loose from 
 my boat. That is the thing to do. William, 
 cast him loose from the boat before you let 
 him up! What will he do when he gets up? " 
 
 " Oh, he'll be quiet enough when he gets 
 up," said Podington. " If you've got a knife 
 
THE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 33 
 
 you can cut his traces — I mean that rope 
 — but no, you needn't. Here comes the boy. 
 "We'll settle this business in very short order 
 now." 
 
 When the horse was on his feet, and all 
 connection between the animal and the boat 
 had been severed, Mr. Podington looked at 
 his friend. 
 
 " Thomas," said he, " you seem to have had 
 a hard time of it. You have lost your hat and 
 you look as if you had been in a wrestling 
 match." 
 
 " I have," replied the other; " I wrestled 
 with that tiller and I wonder it didn't throw 
 me out." 
 
 Now approached the boy. " Shall I hitch 
 him on again, sir? " said he. " He's quiet 
 enough now." 
 
 " No," cried Mr. Buller. " I want no more 
 sailing after a horse, and, besides, we can't 
 go on the lake with that boat; she has been 
 battered about so much that she must have 
 opened a dozen seams. The best thing we can 
 do is to walk home." 
 
 Mr. Podington agreed with his friend that 
 walking home was the best thing they could 
 do. The boat was examined and found to be 
 
34 THE BULLER-PODINOTON COMPACT 
 
 leaking, but not very badly, and when her 
 mast had been unshipped and everything had 
 been made tight and right on board, she was 
 pulled out of the way of tow-lines and boats, 
 and made fast until she could be sent for from 
 the town. 
 
 Mr. Buller and Mr. Podington walked back 
 toward the town. They had not gone very far 
 when they met a party of boys, who, upon 
 seeing them, burst into unseemly laughter. 
 
 " Mister," cried one of them, " you needn't 
 be afraid of tumbling into the canal. Why 
 don't you take off your life-preserver and let 
 that other man put it on his head? " 
 
 The two friends looked at each other and 
 could not help joining in the laughter of the 
 boys. 
 
 " By George ! I forgot all about this," said 
 Podington, as he unfastened the cork jacket. 
 " It does look a little super-timid to wear a 
 life-preserver just because one happens to be 
 walking by the side of a canal." 
 
 Mr. Buller tied a handkerchief on his head, 
 and Mr. Podington rolled up his life-preserver 
 and carried it under his arm. Thus they 
 reached the town, where Buller bought a hat, 
 Podington dispensed with his bundle, and ar- 
 rangements were made to bring back the boat. 
 
THE BULLER-PODINGTON COMPACT 35 
 
 ^^ Eunaway in a sail-boat! " exclaimed one 
 of the canal boatmen when he had heard about 
 the accident. ^^ Upon my word! That beats 
 anything that could happen to a man! " 
 
 " No, it doesn^t," replied Mr. Buller, quiet- 
 ly. "I have gone to the bottom in a foundered 
 road-wagon." 
 
 The man looked at him fixedly. 
 
 '^ Was you ever stuck in the mud in a bal- 
 loon? " he asked. 
 
 " Not yet," replied Mr. Buller. 
 
 It required ten days to put Mr. Buller's sail- 
 boat into proper condition, and for ten days 
 Mr. Podington stayed with his friend, and en- 
 joyed his visit very much. They strolled on 
 the beach, they took long walks in the back 
 country, they fished from the end of a pier, 
 they smoked, they talked, and were happy 
 and contented. 
 
 " Thomas," said Mr. Podington, on the last 
 evening of his stay, ^' I have enjoyed myself 
 very much since I have been down here, and 
 now, Thomas, if I were to come down again 
 next summer, would you mind — would you 
 mind, not " 
 
 " I would not mind it a bit," replied Buller, 
 promptly. '^ I'll never so much as mention it; 
 
36 THE BULLER-PODINQTON COMPACT 
 
 SO you can come along without a thought of it. 
 And since you have alluded to the subject, 
 William," he continued, " I'd like very much 
 to come and see you again; you know my 
 visit was a very short one this year. That is a 
 beautiful country you live in. Such a variety 
 of scenery, such an opportunity for walks and 
 rambles! But, William, if you only could 
 make up your mind not to " 
 
 "Oh, that is all right!" exclaimed Pod- 
 ington. " I do not need to make up my mind. 
 You come to my house and you shall never 
 so much as hear of it. Here's my hand up- 
 on it! " 
 
 " And here's mine ! " said Mr. Buller. 
 
 Whereupon they shook hands over a new 
 compact. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 
 
 IT was early summer in the old French quar- 
 ter of New Orleans, and they walked side 
 by side along the narrow street of Toulouse 
 toward that little harbor shut up and secreted 
 in the very heart of the old town, and known 
 as the Basin. 
 
 He was not a native of the Crescent City, 
 although it was his purpose to make it his 
 home, and he had never seen the Basin. She 
 was a Creole of the Creoles, and her twenty- 
 two spring-times had all been passed on the 
 shores of the great river. Of herself she never 
 would have thought of making a visit to the 
 old Basin ; but as he wished to see it, she was 
 glad to see it with him. There were so many 
 other places in this beautiful city which he 
 had seen but seldom or not at all, and which 
 were far more attractive than this little piece 
 of town-inclosed water, that it might have 
 seemed strange to her, had she not known him 
 
40 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-OAR 
 
 so well, that he had asked her to walk with him 
 along this almost deserted street to the quiet 
 harbor. 
 
 They had met by accident that afternoon, 
 and it had been a long time since he had had 
 such an opportunity of having her for an hour 
 or two all to himself. He considered this op- 
 portunity such a rare piece of good fortune 
 that his strongest present wish was to banish 
 every fellow-being from the vicinity of him- 
 self and of her. The life and gayety of the 
 town were, at that moment, distasteful to him. 
 The crowded streets of the shops, the beautiful 
 promenades, the smooth Shell Eoad, the shores 
 of the glittering Pontchartrain, lively with 
 bright eyes, bright colors, and merry voices, 
 were all places to avoid. In the old street of 
 Toulouse there was not a living being but him- 
 self and her. 
 
 But the distance from Rampart Street to 
 the Basin was very short, and almost before he 
 knew it they stood by the side of the little har- 
 bor, which reaches forth to the outer world of 
 water by means of a long and slender canal 
 stretching itself away, almost unseen, among 
 the houses. 
 
 Here were some of those quaint vessels 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 41 
 
 which dreamily float down from the inland 
 waters of the State, and, having reached the 
 widened surface of the Basin, drop into a 
 quiet nap by the side of the old gray piers. 
 With their cargoes piled high up on their 
 stems, and the shadows of their masts stretch- 
 ing far, far down into the tranquil water, as if 
 they were endeavoring to reach a bottom of 
 mysterious and unknown depth, they lay, with 
 the houses and the streets around and about 
 them, as quietly as if they had been resting 
 on the surface of a lagoon far away in the 
 depths of the forest. 
 
 But the Basin was not entirely devoid of 
 human life. A man in a straw hat sat in a 
 shaded spot on one of the vessels, smoking a 
 cigarette, and apparently waiting for some one 
 who had been sent for. In the middle of the 
 street, on the other side of the dock, were two 
 men talking, one of whom was probably the 
 messenger who had been sent for the person 
 who was expected. There was a woman's 
 head at the window of one of the houses which 
 overlooked the water; and from an open door- 
 way came a little child toddling in the direc- 
 tion of the Basin. 
 
 This was not the place he had expected it 
 
42 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 
 
 to be. From what he had heard of it, he had 
 imagined it a lonely spot with trees upon the 
 water's edge, and in the air that perfume of 
 roses which had helped to make the city dear 
 to him. But there were people here — people 
 with eyes and leisure — and in the air were 
 many odors, but none of roses. There were 
 scents of tar, of sugar, and of boards warmed 
 by the sun, but none of these was in tune with 
 his emotions. 
 
 They stood silent, and looked down upon 
 the water. His soul was on fire to speak ; but 
 how could he stand here and say what he had 
 to say? That man upon the vessel had already 
 looked at them; and suppose, just as he was 
 in the middle of what he had to say, that tod- 
 dling child should fall into the water! 
 
 She saw that he was ill at ease, and that he 
 did not care for basins. 
 
 " You have never seen the old St. Louis 
 Cemetery," said she. " It is just over there; 
 that is the wall of it. Shall we go and see it? " 
 
 But his mind was not attuned to cemeteries; 
 he had never felt himself so much alive; his 
 soul was like a panther drawn together for a 
 spring. 
 
 " It is like the olden time, that cemetery," 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAB 43 
 
 she said. " It is so still, so lonely; there seems 
 to be nothing there but " 
 
 " Let us go," he said, eagerly. 
 
 They turned their backs upon the Basin, 
 and, crossing the street, approached the gate- 
 way in the brick wall which surrounds the 
 quaint and venerable resting-place of so many 
 of the ancient inhabitants of the Creole quar- 
 ter. 
 
 The gate was open, and they saw no one in 
 the little lodge. They passed in, and walked 
 among the tombs, which reared themselves on 
 every side as if they might have been habita- 
 tions for living people who had shrunken small, 
 requiring but little room. He had never seen 
 such tombs, all built above ground on account 
 of the watery nature of the soil ; and as they 
 walked along a narrow avenue bordered on 
 each side by these houses of the dead, many 
 gray with age, and some of them half covered 
 with clinging vines, she pointed out to him 
 how nearly all of the names inscribed upon 
 them were French or Spanish, and how far, 
 far back were some of the dates beneath them. 
 He had the tastes of an antiquarian, and the 
 quaintnesses of history were a joy to him. The 
 whole scene appeared as foreign to him as 
 
44 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-OAR 
 
 though he had been in another land, and all 
 his sympathies stood ready to be called forth. 
 But they heard no call; his soul was still full 
 of a desire to speak of something which had 
 nothing to do with the past, nothing to do 
 with tombs, gray stones, or clinging vines. 
 
 " Let us go this way,'' said he, turning into 
 a narrower path. 
 
 At this moment the form of one of the in- 
 habitants of the tombs seemed to rise up before 
 them. It was very tall and very narrow, and 
 the upper part of it was the head of a very old 
 negro, bony, and adorned with patches of gray 
 hair. Its osseous frame appeared to be cov- 
 ered by loose, hanging clothes instead of flesh. 
 It took off its little cap, and saluted them in 
 Negro-French. It was the guardian of the 
 cemetery. 
 
 The young man was astonished and dis- 
 gusted. If he could have done it, he would 
 have hustled this intruding apparition into an 
 empty tomb. But his companion smiled, and 
 greeted the bony sexton in his own queer dia- 
 lect. 
 
 This ancient keeper of the ancient tombs 
 was as courteous as if he had been one of the 
 stately personages now resting in his domain. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-OAR 45 
 
 He would show them the cemetery; he would 
 take them everywhere; they should see all. 
 He knew it all, he had lived here so long ; with 
 his own hands he had put so many of them 
 away. 
 
 The two young people followed him. In 
 the soul of one of them there was bitter im- 
 patience. 
 
 " Must that creature go with us? " he whis- 
 pered to his companion. " Is it necessary? 
 Can I not give him some money and send him 
 away? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said she, softly; " that would 
 not be right ; we cannot do that. This is his 
 kingdom; he is very proud to show it." 
 
 They walked on, his face clouded. 
 
 " But the place is small," he said to him- 
 self, " and there must soon be an end to these 
 avenues. Then he must leave us, and we can 
 rest." 
 
 No young mistress of a newly furnished 
 house could have exhibited her possessions 
 with more satisfaction and delight than did 
 this undulating structure of bones and clothes 
 show forth the peculiar features of his mor- 
 tuary establishment. Many of the tombs were 
 made up of rows of narrow tunnels, each wide 
 
46 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 
 
 enough to receive a coffin, one row above an- 
 other, the whole as high as a tall man could 
 reach. These were family vaults; but the 
 old sexton explained that, although they had 
 so many apartments, the families often became 
 so large, as time went on, that the accommo- 
 dations were not sufficient. 
 
 "When one of the tombs happened to be full, 
 he explained, and there was another applicant 
 for admission, the oldest tunnel was opened, 
 and if any part of the coffin was left, it was 
 taken out, and the " remenz '' (by which the 
 old sexton meant the bony residuum of the oc- 
 cupant) were pushed to one side, and the new 
 coffin thrust in and sealed up. Then the an- 
 cient coffin was burned, and the new and the 
 old inhabitant of the tunnel dwelt together 
 in peace. 
 
 She listened with gentle attention, although 
 she had heard it all before; but, standing by 
 her side, he fumed. How utterly irrelevant 
 were these dreadful details to the thoughts 
 which filled his brain ! 
 
 They passed a tomb smaller than some of 
 the others, and so old that she stopped to look 
 at it. The stone slab on which was the inscrip- 
 tion was so covered with moss and shaded by 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 47 
 
 vines that the words could scarcely be read; 
 but she stooped, and he stooped with her, and 
 they saw that this was the last resting-place 
 of a noble Spanish gentleman whose virtues 
 and lineage had never been obscured except by 
 the lichens and ferns which spread themselves 
 about the lower part of his tomb. 
 
 The sexton was happy to see them interested 
 in this tomb; it was his favorite sepulchre. 
 He spoke to them in broken Creole-French, in 
 broken English, and in Negro-French — the 
 very dust and debris of the different languages. 
 The young man could understand scarcely a 
 word the old negro said, but she picked out his 
 meaning from the shattered lingual fragments. 
 
 He had been a great man, this ancient Span- 
 ish gentleman, the sexton said. Once every- 
 body in this town looked up to him. Grand 
 family he had. All people looked up at them 
 too. Kow family all gone ; nobody come here 
 to take care of tomb. Tomb would have dis- 
 appeared, as the family had gone, had not he 
 himself looked to it that the storms and the 
 vines did not destroy it and cover it up out 
 of sight. A very noble man he had been, this 
 Spanish gentleman. Then, suddenly turning 
 to the two young people, the old man inquired 
 
48 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-OAR 
 
 if they would like to see " him," and, without 
 waiting for an answer, he stepped to the back 
 of the tomb. 
 
 ^' Come,'^ said she to her companion. " The 
 gentleman receives; we must not be impolite." 
 
 Unwillingly he followed her. 
 
 The top of this tomb was low and of dome- 
 like form, and at the back of it many of the 
 bricks were loose. Looking about to see that 
 there were no intruders near, for the receptions 
 of the Spanish gentleman were very select, the 
 old man removed a number of the loose bricks. 
 Pointing to the large orifice thus made, he in- 
 vited his visitors to look in and see " him." 
 The vault was rather spacious, and on the dry 
 and dusty floor the Spanish gentleman was re- 
 posing in a detached condition. The sexton 
 thrust in his long arm, scarcely less bony than 
 those of the hidalgo, and took out a skull, 
 which he handed to the lady. After this he 
 presented the young man with a thigh-bone, 
 which, however, was declined. The day was 
 becoming a hollow tomb to this lover; its floor 
 was covered with dismal bones instead of the 
 life and love which he had hoped for on this 
 bright and sunny afternoon in early summer. 
 He was morose. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 49 
 
 " The Spanish gentleman must have had 
 two heads/' he said to his companion. " See ; 
 far back there is another skull! " 
 
 "Hush," said she; "we must not notice 
 that; we must be polite at this reception." 
 
 The old man put the skull back into the 
 tomb, replaced the bricks, and they passed on. 
 
 In one comer of the cemetery they came 
 upon a charming little inclosure, a true gar- 
 den of greenery, which adjoined a small 
 chapel. There were a fence and a gate, and 
 there was a suggestive shadowness in the rear 
 of the quiet chapel which seemed to strike a 
 note of perfect accord with the young man's 
 emotions. 
 
 " Ah," said he, " let us go in here; it will 
 be pleasant to rest in the shade after so much 
 walking. Will you tell the sexton that we do 
 not care to see any more tombs just now? " 
 
 She did not answer, but the old man spoke 
 quickly. He had something to say. His voice 
 was raised; he became excited. He declared 
 that it was true what he was going to tell them; 
 hardly could they believe it, but it was true. 
 One day two young people came to the ceme- 
 tery, and they went into the garden of the 
 chapel, and they sat down in the shade and 
 
50 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 
 
 made love. He saw them, and lie told them 
 that they must not make love in the garden of 
 the chapel; but they would not listen to him 
 — they would not regard him at all; they sat 
 and made love; and when he insisted that this 
 was not the place to make love, they still made 
 love. Then he went for the police, and when 
 he came back with the officer, the love-making 
 was over, and they had gone; but the priest 
 locked that garden gate, and no visitors went 
 in any more. Was it not dreadful, he said, 
 all his bones quivering with earnestness, that 
 Christian people should do that? The young 
 man turned disgusted to her. 
 
 " I cannot bear any more tombs or skele- 
 tons, alive or dead. Let us go out into the 
 world of life." 
 
 " Yes," said she, " the hours slip on; it 
 is time that I go to my house." 
 
 The old sexton took the money that waa 
 offered him — far more than he had expected 
 — but he was not satisfied ; there was so much 
 of the cemetery which they had not seen. But 
 they would come again, he said, as he raised 
 his little cap; then he would show them the 
 rest. 
 
 " If it is not to be," the young man said 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 51 
 
 in his heart, " then will I gladly come again, 
 and stay; but otherwise never." 
 
 Now they walked together in the broad and 
 beautiful street of the Ramparts, and they 
 moved slowly in the direction of Canal Street, 
 that great central artery of movement and life. 
 It should have been a joy to walk with her, 
 but he was disappointed. There were people 
 on the sidewalks, there were people on the 
 piazzas, electric-cars passed them; and she 
 talked to him about the houses, some of which 
 had little histories; but houses, histories, elec- 
 tric-cars, and the people they met and the peo- 
 ple who looked down upon them, were all as 
 the taste of bitter herbs in his mouth. This 
 was the first time he had been so completely 
 alone with her, and the afternoon was passing. 
 If he had had his day to live over again, he 
 would have stopped short in the old street of 
 Toulouse, and would there have said what he 
 had to say. There had been absolutely nobody 
 in the street of Toulouse. 
 
 They reached Canal Street, and they stood 
 together, waiting until a car should come 
 which would take her to her home. With 
 whirring and roaring the cars passed this way 
 and that, but the one she waited for did not 
 
52 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 
 
 come. He would have been glad to stand 
 there waiting for the rest of the day. He 
 could not speak as he would speak, but he 
 was near her. 
 
 Presently there was heard the gentle tink- 
 ling of a bell. She almost clapped her hands. 
 
 " It is a mule-car! " she said. " I will go 
 in a mule-car. It will not be long before the 
 mule-car shall disappear. Look at it as it 
 comes; see how that it is funny! " 
 
 Slowly the mule-car jingled toward them, 
 and as it came it was truly funny. Among 
 the last of its kind which once circulated plac- 
 idly all over the old city, with its mule trotting 
 deliberately in front of it, and its shabby sides 
 suggestive of no memories of fresh paint, it 
 formed a striking contrast to the swiftly roll- 
 ing electric-cars, shining in bright colors, and 
 gay with signs and lettering. 
 
 He stopped the car, and helped her in. As 
 he seated himself by her side she raised her eye- 
 brows a very little, as if she would say to her- 
 self that although it was not absolutely neces- 
 sary for him to come with her — for it was out 
 of his way — yet that was his affair, and she 
 would no more interfere with him than she 
 had interfered with the Spanish gentleman 
 who had received that afternoon. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-OAR 53 
 
 There were not many people in the mule- 
 car, for most persons preferred swifter methods 
 of transportation; but it carried some passen- 
 gers. All these persons — there were four of 
 them— sat on the opposite side of the car; 
 none of them had a newspaper to read, and 
 they seemed to have nothing upon their minds 
 but the two young people who were seated 
 quietly side by side not very far from one of 
 the front windows. It must have been a pleas- 
 ure to look at them, for in countenance and rai- 
 ment they were prepossessing in a high de- 
 gree; but there are pleasures which should be 
 pursued with moderation — at least, the young 
 man thought so. He knew that if he said to 
 her anything which was not commonplace 
 there would be a gleam of intelligence in the 
 faces opposite. 
 
 Slowly the mule-car trundled along the 
 shaded avenue into which it had turned, and 
 then, at a cross street, it stopped, and, wonder 
 of wonders ! two of the passengers got out. It 
 was hard to believe that such persons would be 
 willing to pay their money for so short a ride, 
 and yet perhaps they had come up all the way 
 from the river-front. 
 
 !N"ow the bell on the mule tinkled again, and 
 
54 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE- OAR 
 
 again the car rolled on. The passenger who 
 was nearest the door was an elderly woman, 
 very stout, with a dark and lowering visage. 
 The other was a man, thin and nervous, who 
 frequently looked out of the front window 
 near which he sat. He had been the least ob- 
 jectionable of the four original passengers, for 
 the reason that he had sometimes turned his 
 eyes away from the couple on the other side 
 of the car. 
 
 It was not long before the car began to go 
 slower and slower, and then it stopped. The 
 man in the front corner turned quickly, and 
 stared out of the window. 
 
 " Ha ! " he exclaimed, " it is a ship ! " and 
 with that he rose, picked up a paper package 
 by his side, and left the car. 
 
 The other occupants all looked out of the 
 windows, and they saw why the car had 
 stopped. It had reached the little canal which 
 stretches along between the houses from the 
 Basin to the bayou of St. John, and the draw- 
 bridge was open to allow the passage of one 
 of the queer, stem-freighted vessels pursuing 
 its sluggish way toward the little harbor. Its 
 bowsprit had barely reached the draw, but it 
 was moving. 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 55 
 
 The mule, the driver, and the car now set- 
 tled themselves into a condition of repose. Ke- 
 pose was pleasant on such a warm and breeze- 
 less summer afternoon, and the driver, his back 
 resting against the front of the car, dropped 
 into a doze. These incidents of enforced in- 
 activity were familiar to him, and he knew 
 how to take advantage of them. But the mule, 
 although glad to rest upon his four motionless 
 legs, had no desire to sleep. He gazed upon 
 the slowly advancing vessel, and then, turning 
 his head from side to side, he glanced first 
 into one and then into the other of the front 
 windows of the car. Now he looked again at 
 the vessel; he cast his eyes upon the draw- 
 bridge, which seemed glad to rest for a time 
 in a new position; then he stood reflective, 
 but not for long. The occupants of the car 
 seemed to interest him, and again he turned 
 his gaze upon them. 
 
 The faces of the two young people had un- 
 dergone a slight change since the mule had 
 first regarded them. They were evidently un- 
 der the influence of emotions which were grow- 
 ing upon them. She was very quiet, gazing 
 straight before her; but in her cheeks there 
 were some slight indications of the pallor of 
 
56 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 
 
 expectancy. It was different with him: he 
 was clearly agitated. His eyes moved quick- 
 ly and anxiously from the vessel in the canal 
 to the stout woman near the door of the car. 
 He said but little, and one might have sup- 
 posed that his heart was beating more rapidly 
 than usual. 
 
 The woman with the basket was very much 
 annoyed, and did not take any pains to con- 
 ceal it. Even the mule could see that she was 
 growling inwardly, and that now and then she 
 gave vent to an exclamation of impatience; 
 but she showed no signs of intending to get 
 out. Even had she lived but one short block 
 on the other side of the canal, she was a woman 
 who wanted the full value of the five cents she 
 had paid for her passage to her home. She 
 could now cross the canal on another bridge 
 if slie chose. If she were in such a hurry, why 
 did she not get out and walk the rest of the 
 way? Her basket was a little one. 
 
 But although her face grew darker, and her 
 muttered exclamations became more frequent, 
 she did not move. To the eyes of the young 
 man, she looked as if she had been pressed 
 upon the seat in a partially melted condition, 
 and had hardened there. His heart was heavy 
 
TEE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 57 
 
 as he turned his eyes away from her. How 
 could he have expected that such an opportu- 
 nity should almost come to him! No one 
 would get into a car that was standing still by 
 an open draw. The driver was asleep. If he 
 could have hired a carriage to take that impa- 
 tient, fretting woman to the bosom of her 
 family — aye, if he could have bought a car- 
 riage to take her home, he would not have 
 hesitated at this supreme moment. 
 
 Few words passed between the two young 
 people. He was very restless. He looked out 
 of the open door, fearing, he could not have 
 told himself why, that another mule-car might 
 soon come along. Then he looked out front. 
 The vessel was nearly through the draw. For 
 himself he wished that it had stuck fast, that 
 it had gone aground, that it could move no 
 more for hours; then that she-demon must get 
 out and walk. The mule again looked back 
 into the car. He saw the agitation of the 
 young man; he saw the steady gaze and the 
 now fluctuating pallor of his companion; he 
 saw also the indignant irritation of the stolid 
 woman with the basket. He turned away his 
 head, and gazed reflectively before him. 
 
 The vessel moved entirely out of the draw; 
 
58 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 
 
 the bridge came slowly and noiselessly back 
 into its position; tlie man at tbe draw went 
 away. Every thing was quiet and still ; an ad- 
 ditional hush seemed to have come upon the 
 scene. The mule gazed straight before him at 
 the bridge now ready for his advance, but he 
 moved not even enough to give the slightest 
 tinkle to his bell ; the driver slept. 
 
 The woman with the basket had been look- 
 ing out at the back. Perhaps she thought that 
 if another car came something might happen 
 to hurry matters; but now she turned, and 
 beheld the vessel clearly past the draw, and 
 moving on to conceal itself between the houses. 
 Why did not the car go on? She did not see 
 that the bridge had come into its place. A 
 thought flashed upon her. 
 
 "They wait for another ship! " she ex- 
 claimed. " This is terrible ! It is that life has 
 not enough of length for this." And with a 
 sudden snap of her teeth, she rose and got out. 
 
 The motion given to the car by the descent 
 of the heavy woman awoke the driver, who 
 suddenly opened his eyes, stood up straight, 
 and seeing that the way was clear before him, 
 started his mule. This animal, slowly turning 
 his head backward to look at the stout woman, 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 59 
 
 who was indignantly making her way toward 
 the sidewalk, went off at a great rate, as though 
 he were impressed with the idea that he must 
 make up lost time; then, when it was im- 
 possible for the woman to overtake the car, he 
 slackened his speed. As he did so he turned 
 his head, he gazed into the front window of 
 the car, he saw the young people side by side 
 and alone; then, with a gentle wave of his long 
 ears, as though he would say, " It is all ar- 
 ranged, my children," he discreetly turned 
 away his head, and trotted on. 
 
 The pallor on the face of the beautiful Cre- 
 ole changed to a flush. If she had obeyed the 
 dictates of her heart she would have clapped 
 her hands, exclaiming, ^' What a beautiful 
 mule ! " But she knew how to control the dic- 
 tates of her heart, and said nothing. He 
 moved quickly in his seat, like a man who 
 would make a bound into paradise as the gates 
 were closing; and as she, at the same moment, 
 turned her head, he looked into her eyes. 
 There was a light in those eyes — a tremulous 
 light which shone inward, so that he looked 
 back and back and back into the very inner- 
 most recesses of her soul. There he saw what 
 he wanted to see! He said no word, but he 
 
60 THE ROMANCE OP A MULE-GAR 
 
 clasped her right hand in both of his own. She 
 did not withdraw it; her face was still turned 
 toward him. 
 
 Gently the mule moved his head; with a 
 backward glance of one eye he saw everything. 
 Then again he looked in front of him, and 
 lowering his ears, he let them drop between 
 his eyes and the front windows of the car, so 
 that it would be impossible for him, even by 
 accident, to see what was going on within. If 
 the young man perceived this considerate act, 
 he did not appreciate the fact that he saw it, 
 but there came upon him the feeling that for 
 a moment he was free to forget everything in 
 the world but himself and her, and folding 
 her in his arms, he gave her the first warm 
 kiss of love. Yes; thus it was, in broad day- 
 light, and in a mule-car, these two plighted 
 their troth ! 
 
 Now the car rolled on, but it seemed no more 
 to move on iron rails. It might have glided 
 over soft masses of fleecy clouds, so gentle, so 
 joyous was its motion. The tinkling of the 
 bell on the mule changed into sweet strains of 
 music from the harps of angels; the waters of 
 the little branch canal, which ran along the 
 middle of the wide avenue, sent up, in all 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 61 
 
 their original fragrance, the odors of every 
 flower or fruit that had ever fallen upon their 
 tranquil surface, and the leaves of the tall live- 
 oaks overhead changed their dull summer 
 green, as if they had been suddenly trans- 
 muted, by a wind from some magic sky, into 
 delicate sheets of sparkling emerald. For him 
 there were no people in this great world ex- 
 cept themselves. But she, as they sat there 
 with their hands still clasped, threw over those 
 hands a corner of her light summer wrap. 
 Even in this sudden heaven she did not forget 
 the world. 
 
 The mule looked back again. He saw both 
 their faces, and he raised his ears to their nor- 
 mal position. Even to those ears his bell had 
 never sounded so musical. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of all the fleecy 
 clouds, the angel music, the delicate fragrance, 
 the emerald green, and the low, impassioned 
 speech, she started to her feet. 
 
 " We have reached the Esplanade," she 
 said; " I must get out." 
 
 As they stood together upon the sidewalk, 
 the mule gave them one last look, and then 
 moved on upon his tinkling way. 
 
 " No," said she ; " you must not walk to my 
 
62 THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-GAR 
 
 house with me. It is not right that I should 
 promenade with one so happy. '^ 
 
 With one long look, more effulgent than the 
 overhanging sun, he left her. Like a swift 
 stag breathing the strong wind of the hills, he 
 ran after the mule-car, quickly caught up with 
 it, and sprang inside. She was gone, but he 
 would sit where she had been sitting; so long 
 as he might, he would ride on in that heavenly 
 car. But the young man could not sit still ; he 
 went out on the platform, and talked to the 
 driver. 
 
 " Yes," said the man, " it will not be long 
 that I shall drive this car. It will soon be 
 taken off. The people here now have no use 
 for mule-cars." 
 
 He did not know why it was, but, for some 
 reason which he did not try to comprehend, 
 the heart of the young man warmed toward 
 that mule. He wished that it had a more 
 comely tail. 
 
 When he and she were married they went to 
 live in a little house far out upon a wide and 
 flowery avenue. This cottage stood but one 
 story high, but it spread itself here and there 
 upon a grassy lawn, and lilies and roses and all 
 
THE ROMANCE OF A MULE-CAR 63 
 
 manner of fragrant flowers and sweet-smelling 
 bushes crowded about it, as though they would 
 look into its windows, and so imbue them- 
 selves with fresh fragrance and fresh beauty. 
 Love sat upon the little door-step to say ^^ not 
 at home " to every inharmonious visitor; and 
 if there were but one blue patch in the sky, 
 it hung tenderly above that roof. Rearward 
 of the house there nestled a little yard of 
 green, and above its odoriferous shrubbery 
 there often raised themselves a pair of long, 
 soft ears; these belonged to the mule of the 
 mule-car. " Since they have use for him no 
 more," she had said — it was not necessary now 
 for her to control the dictates of her heart — 
 " he must come to us; he must be our own." 
 Even though in the mule-car she had sat 
 gazing straight before her, she had seen far 
 more than her companion could see. She 
 could appreciate, she could understand; and 
 when, sitting together on their piazza in the 
 quiet moonlight, she would hear the tinkle of 
 a bell from behind the house, she would take 
 him by the hand, and they would both re- 
 member how the angels once played their 
 harps under the live-oak of Claiborne Avenue. 
 
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 IT was the most beautiful time of the year 
 in the island of Manana; the waters of the 
 encircling Pacific were warm, but the breezes 
 which came from the neighboring islet of 
 Pruga were cool and odorous with the fra- 
 grance from many an aromatic tree and shrub. 
 There were no inhabitants on the islet of 
 Pruga, for its coral reefs did not offer induce- 
 ments to visiting craft, and it seemed to exist 
 solely for the purpose of furnishing fragrance 
 to the island of Manana, where the winds blew 
 from the northwest. 
 
 The Governor-General of the colony, Senor 
 Gonzales Proventura y Torado, sat upon the 
 front veranda of his official residence, on the 
 plaza of Euta, the capital city of the colony. 
 The Governor was smoking sadly; the fumes 
 from his rapid succession of cigarettes mingled 
 with the odors floating over the sea from 
 Pruga, but his senses were not gratified, nor 
 67 
 
6S THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 was his soul comforted. Before him, on a lit- 
 tle wooden perch, there stood a parrot, brilliant 
 in yellow and red. It was motionless; it was 
 dead; it was stuffed. Five weeks before that 
 day he had shot it, and it had just been brought 
 home by a native taxidermist. It was the last 
 parrot he had shot, and his soul grew heavier 
 as he gazed upon it. 
 
 Seiior Proventura was a collector of parrots. 
 In earlier days, in other spheres of colonial 
 duties, he had been a collector of monkeys, 
 but now he devoted his powers of marksman- 
 ship entirely to the bagging of the brilliantly 
 colored parrots which were found in the island 
 over which he exercised colonial authority. 
 He was not only a sportsman, he was a man of 
 scientific proclivities, and he had invented a 
 new chromatic scale in which all the desired 
 combinations of color were furnished by the 
 plumage of parrots. Many of these birds were 
 arranged in order in a corridor of his house, 
 but the scale was not yet complete and more 
 parrots were needed. It had been five weeks 
 since he had shot one, and the soul of the Gov- 
 ernor-General was downcast. 
 
 The morning air rested lightly on the rip- 
 pling waters of the harbor of Kuta; a bare- 
 
THE OOVERNOR-OENERAL 69 
 
 footed native brought fresh cigarettes to the 
 Governor-General, and as he placed them on 
 a small table he called the attention of his Ex- 
 cellency to something in the distance. The 
 Governor-General looked up and beheld a 
 man-of-war coming in from the sea. 
 
 " Bring me my glass ! " cried Senor Pro- 
 ventura, rising hastily. ^^ But stop. What is 
 the flag? " 
 
 " It is the ensign of Cabotia, your Excel- 
 lency," answered the servant. 
 
 The Captain of the man-of-war raised his 
 glass to his eyes and scanned the bay of Ruta. 
 There was but one vessel moving upon its 
 waters. This was a ferry-boat, small and of 
 antique fashion. A man at the end of a long 
 wooden tiller steered the boat, and the pas- 
 sengers, returning from their morning duties 
 in the town to their homes on the other side 
 of the harbor, were standing in the bow to 
 catch the breeze. 
 
 " Fire a blank shot to bring her to," ordered 
 the Captain. 
 
 The gunner was ready and a cannon roared. 
 The disintegrated wadding of the charge, in 
 the shape of a hundred thousand little pieces 
 
70 THE GOVERNOR'OENERAL 
 
 of cartridge-paper, fell in a shower upon the 
 passengers of the ferry-boat, who were in- 
 censed with anger. " Those wretched sailors 
 on that Cabotian ship are crazy with drink! " 
 they cried. " They do not even know how to 
 fire a salute. We shall complain to the Gov- 
 ernor-General." The man at the tiller was 
 very indignant and swore, but he kept on his 
 course, for his passengers must reach their 
 homes; but he would complain when he made 
 his return trip. 
 
 " That did not bring her to," said the Cap- 
 tain of the man-of-war. " Fire a solid shot 
 across her bow." 
 
 Again roared the cannon and an iron shot 
 flew over the harbor. It whistled by the peo- 
 ple of the ferry-boat, and the man at the tiller, 
 turning pale with fright, ran half across the 
 deck in his anxiety to turn his vessel about 
 quickly and get her back to town. Such reck- 
 less firing of salutes he had never heard of. 
 
 The iron ball went on; it passed the head 
 of the harbor; it flew over the marshes where 
 the cryptogams grew in wild profusion; its 
 little black shadow crossed palm-groves and 
 patches of cultivated ground. An old woman 
 was returning to her home, carrying a bread- 
 
3 > 9 an -> 
 
THE OOVERNOR-GENERAL 71 
 
 fruit for her noonday meal, but just before she 
 reached her little hut, thatched with palmetto 
 leaves, the cannon-ball, now descending to- 
 ward the earth, struck the main cross-beam, 
 above the door, and the cottage disappeared. 
 It was like magic; it had been there — it was 
 gone ! The old woman fell upon her trembling 
 knees. If she had wished to gather together 
 the remnants of her home she would have 
 needed a dustpan and brush. 
 
 " It is good," said the Governor-General; 
 " they are firing salutes. Summon the Adju- 
 tant-General and the Alcalde." 
 
 " Pardon, your Excellency," said the ser- 
 vant, " they are fishing on the west coast." 
 
 " Yery well, then," cried the Governor- 
 General, " order my boat's crew to be ready 
 on the instant. I must go out alone to our 
 visitors." And so saying he rushed into the 
 house to put on his uniform. 
 
 His wife assisted him in arraying himself in 
 his ofiicial costume. She was delighted at the 
 news, for she was fond of social enjoyment 
 and had two daughters likewise inclined, and 
 officers from foreign ships, when they hap- 
 pened to touch at Kuta, always made things 
 
72 THE QOVERNOE-QBNERAL 
 
 lively in the otherwise quiet town. It was 
 even possible that there might be a ball. At 
 that moment there was a ball. It struck the 
 rocks at the base of El Morro, the antique 
 fortress at the entrance of the harbor. 
 
 " Hurry, my dear ! '' cried the Governor- 
 General. " They are still firing their salutes 
 and I must get to them as quickly as possible. 
 Give me my state hat.'' 
 
 His wife handed him the heavily plumed 
 cocked-hat. He clapped it on and hurried to 
 the water's edge, where he found his boat wait- 
 ing him. The crew had wakened from their 
 morning siesta at the first sound of the cannon. 
 Everybody was excited; the town had been 
 saluted and the fort had not returned the 
 courtesy. 
 
 Just as the boat was about to push off, a slim 
 native boy, wearing but a single white gar- 
 ment, which had been freshly washed, came 
 flying toward the little pier» 
 
 " Your Excellency! " he shouted. " Senora 
 Froventura has sent you your night-cap. She 
 says your big hat makes your head hot, and 
 when you take it off you must put something 
 else on." 
 
 The Governor impatiently snatched the 
 
THE aOVEBNOR-QENEBAL 73 
 
 nightcap and stuffed it into his pocket. " Give 
 way! " he cried. 
 
 The slim boy had stepped upon the stern 
 of the boat behind the Governor, to hand him 
 the nightcap, and he was so much excited that 
 he forgot to step off again; so he remained 
 standing behind the Governor, who did not 
 notice him. 
 
 The crew pulled hard. They were excited, 
 for it was very interesting to visit a foreign 
 man-of-war. The Captain of the protected 
 cruiser from Cabotia stood on the quarter- 
 deck, surrounded by his officers. 
 
 " They are sending us a flag of truce,'^ he 
 said, as he saw the one garment of the slim boy 
 fluttering in the wind. '' Order the firing to 
 cease." 
 
 The Governor-General mounted to the 
 quarter-deck, gracious, but dignified. He 
 spoke English very well ; he shook hands with 
 the officers and welcomed them to Manana. 
 
 '' It grieves me greatly, your Excellency," 
 he said to the Captain, " that we have not been 
 able to return your salute, but you must not 
 accuse us of discourtesy. We are absolutely 
 out of powder. In fact, I have not been able, 
 on the whole island, to scrape together enough 
 
74 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 to load mj fowling-piece, and it is now five 
 weeks since I have shot a parrot. I am a 
 sportsman and I feel the deprivation keenly.'' 
 
 Some of the officers looked at each other and 
 smiled, and the Captain thus addressed the 
 Governor-General : 
 
 " Sir, you have introduced yourself as the 
 chief official of this island, and you apologize 
 for not returning our salute. We did not sa- 
 lute. Cabotia is at war with your country. I 
 fired a solid shot across the bow of the only 
 moving vessel in your harbor, and I have bom- 
 barded your defences." 
 
 The Governor-General stepped back in 
 amazement. " At war with my mother- 
 land ! " he exclaimed. " I have never heard 
 of it ! It is incredible ! " 
 
 " I do not wonder that you have never heard 
 of it," said the Captain, " for it is a very re- 
 cent affair and it is not likely that the news 
 could reach you sooner. But you know it now. 
 We are at war with your mother-land, and I 
 have sailed into your harbor to take this island 
 and raise over it the flag of Cabotia. The best 
 thing you can do is to capitulate, without loss 
 of time." 
 
 Senor Gonzales Proventura y Torado drew 
 
THE QOYERNOR-QENEBAL 75 
 
 himself up and folded his arms. *^ Capitu- 
 late ! " he exclaimed ; " capitulate without 
 striking a blow for the honor of my country, 
 for the honor of my flag, for my own honor! 
 Never! " 
 
 It was now the Captain's turn to be sur- 
 prised. " Then what are you going to do? " 
 he asked. " You decline to capitulate. What 
 then?" 
 
 " I shall fight," returned the Governor- 
 General. " So long as my duty calls upon me 
 to do so I shall defend my flag; I shall defend 
 my city; I shall defend my honor." 
 
 ." But you can't fight," said the Captain. 
 " If you haven't even powder enough to fire a 
 salute or shoot a parrot, how are you going to 
 defend yourself against my guns? " 
 
 The Governor-General bowed, and slightly 
 raised his great cocked hat. " Your Excel- 
 lency," said he, " you are a noble officer of a 
 great country; I am sure you are a gentleman. 
 If a gentleman with his drawn sword in his 
 hand meets an enemy unarmed, he does not 
 plunge the blade into his undefended adver- 
 sary. He lowers the point of his sword, and 
 requests his enemy to arm himself and come 
 on. If he happens to be provided with an ex- 
 
76 THE QOVERNOR-OENERAL 
 
 tra sword lie presents it to his foe, so that no 
 time may be lost. Your Excellency is a gen- 
 tleman ; you will not deny me the right to de- 
 fend my flag, my city, and my honor; you 
 will not take advantage of my defenceless posi- 
 tion. You will lend me some powder.'' 
 
 The Captain turned to his officers. " These 
 people will not capitulate, and it will be a 
 mean thing to fire on them when they have 
 no powder. I don't suppose they could use 
 our modern charges in their old-fashioned 
 guns, but you can lower a boat and send them 
 that barrel of loose powder in the magazine." 
 
 The eyes of the Governor-General were suf- 
 fused with tears of gratitude. A barrel of 
 powder! It sounded like untold wealth! He 
 removed his cocked hat entirely from his head 
 and shook hands with the Captain and all of 
 his ofiicers. 
 
 ^' Gentlemen," said he, " I thank you from 
 my heart; I thank you for myself; I thank 
 you for my mother-land. I will go to my 
 fort. I will put myself at the head of my 
 garrison. I will defend my city, my honor, 
 and my flag." 
 
 " All right," said the Captain, " I will give 
 you an hour to get ready; but let me tell you 
 
THE OOVERNOR-GENERAL 77 
 
 this, when jou think it is time to capitulate 
 haul down your colors and send a real flag of 
 truce to me. If that darkey had sat down 
 while you were coming here we would not 
 have thought you were asking for a truce, and 
 we might have fired on you.'' 
 
 The noise of the cannon had aroused every- 
 body; not a man in the garrison was asleep, 
 and when the Governor-General ordered the 
 drums to beat to quarters the soldiers came 
 running from every direction. There were 
 not many of them, but they were wildly en- 
 thusiastic when they heard that they had been 
 furnished with powder and were to fight. As 
 rapidly as possible everything was made ready 
 for the battle. The barrel of powder was 
 placed in a central position in the fort and the 
 Governor-General stood by it, issuing his 
 orders. 
 
 There were several mounted cannon in the 
 fort, but the gunners were not able to find 
 many balls, and those they did collect were 
 small, about the size of a croquet ball. This 
 made it impossible to use the two large guns 
 of the castle. 
 
 " Never mind ! " cried the Governor-Gen- 
 
78 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 eral. " The small guns require less powder 
 and we can fire more frequently. Every man 
 to his post! The hour of truce has nearly ex- 
 pired." 
 
 Fiery martial commotion filled the fort. 
 The garrison, whose gunnery practice had 
 hitherto been confined to harmless salutes, 
 were mad with delight at the idea that they 
 were about to fire solid shot upon a real enemy, 
 and when the first gun from the ship an- 
 nounced the termination of the truce, it was 
 almost immediately answered by three shots 
 from the fort. 
 
 Now loudly roared the cannon, on water 
 and on land, and the people of the town ran 
 up and down, wildly asking each other what 
 was likely to happen next. 
 
 The heavy shot and shell from the man-of- 
 war tore away great masses of the rock on 
 which the castle stood, but none of them pene- 
 trated into the interior of the fortification, and 
 the guns of the Mananian stronghold were 
 served with an alacrity and ardor which were 
 surprising in gunners who were in the habit 
 of spending their days in the most torpid kind 
 of garrison duty. The cannon were all muz- 
 zle-loaders, and as soon as one was discharged 
 
THE QOVERNOR'OENERAL 79 
 
 half a dozen gunners were ready to thrust into 
 her muzzle a fresh charge of powder and an- 
 other ball. These small projectiles flew out 
 over the water as if some one had been shak- 
 ing an apple-tree over the harbor. Sometimes 
 one of them would hit the side of the protected 
 cruiser, and in these cases the Second Officer 
 of the vessel, who was a wit, always facetiously 
 remarked, " Come in ! " 
 
 Balls and shells flew backward and for- 
 ward and bits of rock went tumbling and 
 splashing down into the water; clouds of 
 smoke hung over the castle and over the man- 
 of-war, and the townspeople grew more and 
 more anxious, for they could perceive no signs 
 of victory or defeat, on their own side or on 
 that of the enemy. 
 
 But the Governor-General was more anxious 
 than anybody else. He was standing by the 
 barrel of powder, and it made his heart sink to 
 see how rapidly its contents were diminishing. 
 There was scarcely a quarter of the powder 
 left. A quarter of a barrel of powder! With 
 that he could go out with his gun for days and 
 weeks, and even months; with that he could 
 secure all the parrots he needed for the com- 
 pletion of the model of his great chromatic 
 
80 THE OOVERNOR-OENERAL 
 
 scale; with that amount of powder, life would 
 indeed be worth living ! And these men were 
 scooping it up and ramming it into the cannon 
 as if the precious grains were of no more value 
 than the dust of the earth. He stooped for- 
 ward and looked at the cannon-balls which 
 had been gathered together. There were not 
 many of them left, but in the eyes of the Gov- 
 ernor-General there were entirely too many. 
 
 Just as a cannon was fired and as the gun- 
 ners turned away their faces and shut their 
 eyes, the Governor-General kicked three of 
 the balls into a small gutter which opened out- 
 side the walls, and they dropped down the cliff. 
 He would have been glad to pick up the rest 
 of them and put them in his pockets, if it had 
 been possible. 
 
 But he did not have to worry long. In a 
 few minutes the last little ball was shot out 
 from the fort and fell into the water with a 
 splash close to the side of the man-of-war. 
 
 " They are trying to knock off our keel," 
 said the facetious Second Officer. 
 
 Now the heart of the Governor-General rose 
 and his eyes sparkled. " My brave men," he 
 shouted, " we have done our duty, we have 
 fought for the honor of our flag, and for the 
 
THE QOVERNOR-GENERAL 81 
 
 honor of our mother-land, but we are out of 
 ammunition. We have no more balls and we 
 must submit to the inevitable; we must capit- 
 ulate." And as he said these words he cast 
 his eye into the barrel of powder, of which at 
 least one-fifth remained. 
 
 The garrison gathered around him and 
 shouted in indignation. " We will never give 
 up the fight," they cried, ^^while there is a 
 drop of blood in our veins! " 
 
 "Blood will not do! " shouted the Gover- 
 nor-General in return. " Balls are what we 
 want, not blood." 
 
 " And balls we must have ! " cried some of 
 the men. " If there are no more little ones 
 left, perhaps we can find some that will fit the 
 larger cannon." 
 
 The Governor-General trembled; it would 
 be a dreadful thing if they should really find 
 some larger balls. 
 
 " Be careful what you do ! " he shouted. 
 " One of the big cannon has a great crack in 
 it. The light shines into the inside of it." 
 
 " The other one is good," replied one of 
 the men; " let us find some balls for it." 
 
 In a very short time some of the men came 
 running back, carrying balls which they found 
 
82 THE OOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 lying about the fort, but they were all two or 
 three sizes too large. 
 
 " I knew it ! " cried the Governor-General. 
 " I understand the conditions of our muni- 
 tions of war. We can fire no more of our guns. 
 It is absolutely necessary that we capitulate 
 immediately, otherwise the enemy will begin 
 to shell the town. Think of our wives, our 
 children," and in his heart the Governor-Gen- 
 eral added, ^^ our stuffed birds." 
 
 The men turned sullenly away and began to 
 roll cigarettes; of course they could not fight 
 without balls to fit their cannon. But there 
 was a young fellow, named Bartolomo Lar- 
 risda, who would not give the fight up so 
 easily. 
 
 " I believe I can find balls to fit that 
 gun ! " he cried. " There must be some, 
 somewhere! " and away he ran. 
 
 The Governor-General frowned and called 
 to the young man to come back, but the latter 
 did not hear him. 
 
 " Fool! " ejaculated Senor Proventura, " he 
 will ruin everything," and as he spoke he 
 fiercely thrust his hands into his pockets. In 
 one of them he felt the nightcap. " Ha ! " 
 he said to himself, " this will do," and looking 
 
THE OOVERNOR-OENERAL 83 
 
 about to see that he was not observed, he thrust 
 his nightcap into the muzzle of the one good 
 gun, and with a rammer he pushed it home. 
 " Now then/' said he to himself, " he cannot 
 fire off that cannon, even if he finds a ball to 
 fit." 
 
 Having said this, he hurried out of the fort 
 and down to the place where he had left his 
 boat. He took with him a small table-cloth 
 which he had snatched from one of the living- 
 rooms of the fort, and this, tied to a pole, was 
 waved high in the air, whereupon the cannon- 
 ading from the man-of-war, which had become 
 infrequent since it was not returned by the 
 fort, now ceased altogether. 
 
 The boat of the Governor-General was 
 rowed rapidly to the man-of-war, and he soon 
 stood upon the quarter-deck. Advancing to 
 the Captain, he drew his sword from his scab- 
 bard and held it in front of him, hilt first, and 
 said: 
 
 " Your Excellency, I surrender. We are 
 out of " he was about to say " cannon- 
 balls," but he thought it wiser to make an 
 amendment and said, " ammunition. We can 
 fire no more. Our honor is satisfied. That is 
 the great thing. El Morro capitulates. The 
 
84: THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 town of E,uta capitulates. The island of 
 Mariana, with the neighboring islets, all capit- 
 ulate. Accept my sword." 
 
 The Captain waved back the proffered 
 weapon. " You can keep that," he said, " but 
 I will take the rest. I will go ashore to hoist 
 the Cabotian flag above your fort. What is 
 the size of your garrison? " 
 
 This question puzzled the Governor-Gen- 
 eral. It had been some time since he had 
 heard roll-call, or given any thought to the 
 subject, but it was necessary to make an an- 
 swer which would not belittle his position as 
 first official of the colony, and therefore he 
 said : 
 
 " One hundred and forty-five men, your 
 Exoellency." 
 
 "What!" cried the Captain, "I did not 
 suppose that you had as many men as that. 
 Mr. Mannering," he continued, addressing the 
 First Officer, " did you hear that? One hun- 
 dred and forty-five soldiers in the garrison. 
 What could we do with so many prisoners? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir," was the reply. " We 
 could not accommodate them upon this ship." 
 
 The Governor-General listened in wonder. 
 " Does your Excellency mean," said he, " that 
 
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 85 
 
 you are going to carry away our soldiers as 
 prisoners! '' 
 
 " I have planned to take you all, the officials 
 of the town and your officers and soldiers, as 
 prisoners of war and to carry you away with 
 me, leaving behind some one commissioned 
 by me as temporary Governor-General, acting 
 under the authority of the Cabotian Govern- 
 ment. But your number embarrasses me. I 
 did not suppose you had so many men.'' 
 
 To be carried away! The Governor-Gen- 
 eral turned pale. He had never thought of 
 anything of that sort. It was bad enough to 
 be obliged to change flags, but if he were 
 forced to leave his home, his family, the fifth 
 of a barrel of gunpowder, and all the stuffed 
 parrots in the corridor, as well as those still 
 flying freely in the woods, it would be terrible 
 indeed. But he did not lose hope. 
 
 ^' Your Excellency,'' he said, " we have 
 truly a large garrison in the castle, and besides, 
 there is the garrison of the inland battery, 
 above the town." 
 
 " More men! " cried the Captain. " And 
 how many officers and men are in that garri- 
 son, I should like to know ? " 
 
 " I should say," replied the Governor-Gen- 
 
86 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 eral, " that, excluding the sick in the hospitals, 
 there must be sixty men and officers, all told, 
 in the garrison of the inland battery." 
 
 The Captain clapped his forehead. " Two 
 hundred and ^yq men ! " said he. " Mr. Man- 
 nering, how are we to accommodate them? " 
 
 Bartolomo Larrisda was a young man of 
 energetic loyalty; he did not know that the 
 Governor-General had rowed away under a 
 flag of truce; he knew nothing except that 
 somewhere there must be some balls that would 
 fit that large gun, and with which the fight 
 for the honor of his flag and his mother-land 
 might be continued. At last he found a ball 
 which looked to be the right size. Only one, 
 but with it he ran to the gun. One shot^ well 
 directed, might explode the enemy's magazine. 
 
 Bartolomo tried the ball and to his delight 
 he found that it would go into the muzzle of 
 the cannon. In fact, it was a trifle too small, 
 and as he was about to remove it from the 
 muzzle, preparatory to putting in a charge of 
 powder, the smooth ball slipped from his ner- 
 vous fingers and rolled down into the cannon, 
 which was somewhat elevated, and did not stop 
 until it rested safely against the nightcap of 
 the Governor-General, at the very bottom of 
 the bore. 
 
THE OOVEBNOR-OENERAL 87 
 
 Bartolomo was horrified; witli a great deal 
 of trouble lie lowered tlie muzzle of the can- 
 non, but the ball would not roll out, for it was 
 jammed by the nightcap. The young man 
 tore his hair and beat the cannon with the 
 rammer, but the concussion did not loosen the 
 ball. For a moment he stood in despair and 
 then he gave a spring toward the barrel of 
 powder, which he picked up and placed close 
 to the gun. 
 
 " Ha ! " he exclaimed, " I may load it yet. 
 I will pour powder into the touch-hole until 
 there is enough behind the ball to enable me 
 to make this last shot for the honor of my flag 
 and my mother-land." 
 
 Frantically he poured the powder into the 
 touch-hole, ramming it in with a piece of wire, 
 wriggling the wire so as to make more room 
 inside, and pouring in more and more powder, 
 until finally he believed he had enough to 
 make his last great shot, by which, perchance, 
 he might explode the magazine of the insolent 
 enemy. 
 
 Dashing into an adjoining casemate he 
 snatched a live cigarette from the mouth of a 
 comrade and in two seconds had touched off 
 the cannon. 
 
8S THE OOVERNOR'QENERAL 
 
 " It is true, sir," said tlie First Officer of the 
 man-of-war to his Captain, " there is no room 
 here for two hundred and five men. We 
 might as well try to ship another crew." 
 
 At this moment there was the report of a 
 cannon. It came from the fort. It was not a 
 very loud report, but everybody jumped, and 
 all eyes were directed toward El Morro. A 
 cannon-ball was seen coming through the air. 
 It came so slowly that it was perfectly easy 
 to observe it. It moved in a great arc over the 
 harbor and then began slowly to descend. It 
 came directly toward the quarter-deck of the 
 man-of-war. 
 
 " Look out ! " cried the captain of the watch. 
 Everybody looked out, and when the ball ap- 
 proached the deck they all stepped back out of 
 its way. It struck not three feet from where 
 the Governor-General had been standing. 
 
 The Captain's face was as red as fire. 
 " What is the meaning of this? " he shouted. 
 " What vile treachery have you been hatch- 
 ing? You fly a flag of truce; you surrender; 
 and then your fort fires upon us! " 
 
 The Governor-General did not immediately 
 answer; his eyes were fixed upon the cannon- 
 ball which lay in the middle of the deck. He 
 advanced toward it and raised it in his hand. 
 
TEE OOVERNOR'OENEBAL 89 
 
 " Your Excellency/' said he, to the Cap- 
 tain, " do not condemn me; do not be indig- 
 nant. There is no harm done, there was none 
 intended. You see this nightcap which par- 
 tially envelops the ball? It is my nightcap, 
 which I always should put on when I remove 
 my hat of state. This great hat makes my 
 head hot, and when I take it off I am in danger 
 of catching cold if I do not put on something 
 else. My wife urged me to take this cap with 
 me to-day, and as I forgot it she has thought- 
 fully sent it after me in this fashion. There 
 was no other way. Your Excellency, she has 
 ordered one of the gunners to forward it with 
 a very light charge of powder." 
 
 " A dangerous conjugal attention," said the 
 Captain, his face recovering its natural brown. 
 " It was a pretty good shot, though, I must 
 say. It came nearer to you than to anybody 
 else, and even if you had not moved, it would 
 not have hit you." 
 
 " Aye, your Excellency," said the Gover- 
 nor-General, putting on the nightcap, for it 
 was impossible for him to seem to slight the 
 affectionate attention of Senora Proventura, 
 " my wife is a most considerate woman. She 
 never forgets my health, and she doubtless 
 
90 THE QOVEBNOR-QENERAL 
 
 selected the most careful gunner to send me 
 this nightcap." 
 
 At this moment luncheon was announced, 
 and as everybody was hungry the conference 
 was suspended, and the Governor-General was 
 invited to step below and join the Captain's 
 mess. The invitation was most gladly ac- 
 cepted, and the Governor's boat was sent back 
 to inform his lady that he would take his mid- 
 day meal on the man-of-war. 
 
 The Governor-General made a very fine 
 meal. He drank good wine, and the cigar 
 which he afterward smoked, sitting in a com- 
 fortable chair on the deck with the Captain 
 and some of the other officers, was of remark- 
 able fragrance. Tobacco grew on Manana, 
 but the island produced nothing like this. 
 
 " It comes from some of our other colonies," 
 thought the Governor-General, " but it is only 
 through the foreigners that we have it here." 
 
 " E'ow then," said the Captain, puffing a 
 cloud of smoke toward the flag of his country, 
 , which was gently waving in the breeze from 
 Pruga, " we might as well arrange the terms 
 of surrender. I have taken two hundred and 
 five prisoners, besides yourself and the officers 
 of the town. Now we must decide what to do 
 
THE OOVERNOR'OENERAL 91 
 
 with you. You must be taken away, in some 
 manner or other." 
 
 " Of course," said the Second Officer, " if 
 we take prisoners and don't take them, of 
 course we haven't taken them." 
 
 " Very good," remarked the Captain, and 
 they all laughed. " That brings us to the 
 next point," he continued — " how are we go- 
 ing to take them? One thing is certain — I 
 shall not stuff them into this ship." 
 
 " May I ask, your Excellency," interrupted 
 the Governor-General, " to what place you 
 propose to take your prisoners, when you do 
 take them?" 
 
 " I don't know about that," answered the 
 Captain; "the main thing is to get you all 
 away from here. When a place is captured, its 
 garrison and municipal officers must be re- 
 moved. That is one of the principles of war, 
 and we can't get around it. If there were a 
 merchant vessel in this port I would put you 
 all into it and send you somewhere, probably 
 to your own country, for I am sure you would 
 not be wanted in mine ; but the main point, as 
 I have said, is to get you away from here." 
 
 " Yes, your Excellency," said the Governor- 
 General, " I understand perfectly. But there 
 
92 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 is no ship in port, and no vessel larger than our 
 ferry-boat, and that is a very little one." 
 
 " It seems to me, Mr. Mannering,'' said the 
 Captain, addressing his First Officer, " that 
 the only thing we can do is to leave these pris- 
 oners here for the present and to send a trans- 
 port for them as soon as possible. They can 
 then be taken to their own country and we 
 shall have no further trouble with them is 
 plain.'' 
 
 " Yes," said the First Officer, " I see noth- 
 ing else to do but that." 
 
 " Your Excellency," the Governor now 
 asked, " how long do you suppose it will be 
 before we could expect a ship which would 
 carry us away ? " 
 
 The Captain shook his head and looked at 
 Mr. Mannering. The latter began to count 
 on his fingers. 
 
 " Three weeks to port," he said, " a week to 
 telegraph and make arrangements, five weeks 
 for the transport to reach this island, two weeks 
 for unavoidable delays. That makes, let me 
 see, eleven weeks." 
 
 The Governor-General sat for a few mo- 
 ments and thought. " And what shall be 
 done with your prisoners in the mean time, 
 
THE GOVEBNOR-OENERAL 93 
 
 your Excellency?" he asked. "Of course 
 they must be fed.'' 
 
 " Without doubt/' said the Captain; " that 
 is understood. They are prisoners of my 
 country, my country will take care of them. 
 I will leave rations for them until they are sent 
 for. And, by the way, I must appoint some 
 one to take charge here. Is there a naturalized 
 Cabotian on the island ? " 
 
 The Governor-General shook his head. 
 " No, your Excellency," said he, " there is not 
 one. In fact, there are but very few of us 
 who can even speak your language. But if 
 I might be allowed to offer a suggestion " 
 
 " Certainly," interrupted the Captain; " I 
 shall be glad to hear it." 
 
 " Well, then, your Excellency," said the 
 Governor, " if it will help you out of your dif- 
 ficulty I am perfectly willing to be naturalized. 
 I speak your language, and now that this island 
 belongs to your country, and as it is necessary 
 to find some one to take temporary charge of 
 affairs, I am ready to do whatever is needed to 
 make me a naturalized Cabotian." 
 
 " That's not a bad idea," said the Captain 
 to Mr. Mannering. " He can keep the people 
 in order better than anybody else and there 
 
94 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 will be no rupture, no strain. I am in favor of 
 his plan." 
 
 " Yes," said the First Officer, " I think that 
 would work very well, but I don't know that 
 we have the authority to naturalize him. I 
 suppose, however, we might make him a 
 brevet-citizen, just for a time, you know." 
 
 " Very good," said the Captain, rising, " we 
 will settle it that way. He can retain his offi- 
 cers, and things will go on smoothly and com- 
 fortably. And now, Mr. Governor, I am 
 going to take a little nap. About five o'clock, 
 when the day is cooler, I'll go over to the fort 
 to receive the surrender of your prisoners, and 
 I will also go to the town to raise the flag of 
 Cabotia upon your principal building, what- 
 ever it may be. Until then, I will bid you a 
 very good-afternoon." 
 
 The Governor-General rose, took off his 
 nightcap, put on his plumed hat of state, shook 
 hands all around and departed in his boat, 
 which had returned for him. 
 
 He had no time to lose. He had surren- 
 dered two garrisons of two hundred and ^yq 
 men, and where was he to find those men? He 
 was rowed first to the fort. The garrison was 
 hastily gathered together and counted. In- 
 
THE GOVERNOR- OENEEAL 95 
 
 eluding those who had gone to town for their 
 luncheon and had not yet returned, and even 
 reckoning the laborers who worked in the cas- 
 tle garden, the waiters, and a man who had a 
 license to sell candy and cake to the soldiers, 
 there were exactly seventy-three men belong- 
 ing to the fort. But the Governor was not 
 daunted; he called his Lieutenant. 
 
 " Senor Hernandez," said he, " I want, in- 
 stantly, seventy-two men. I have surrendered 
 one hundred and forty-five members of this 
 garrison, and we are seventy-two short. Go 
 bring them in quickly. Take a file of soldiers 
 with bayonets. Anybody will do to help make 
 up the garrison. We must have them quickly. 
 The Cabotian Captain will be here by five 
 o'clock. Take shopkeepers, carpenters, cooks, 
 any one you please. If they have shirts and 
 trousers, that's enough. There are a lot of old 
 military caps in the fort; clap one on every 
 man jack of them. All our soldiers cannot be 
 expected to wear their uniforms in this hot 
 weather. As for arms, divide them up as well 
 as you can. If there are not enough to go 
 around, give one fellow a sword and another a 
 scabbard, and if you can't do any better, serve 
 out the curiosities in the museum, stone hatch 
 
96 THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 
 
 ets and all. They can't expect that we have 
 only modern arms in this island, ^ow I must 
 hurry away and see the Alcalde and the Ad- 
 jutant-General. And mind you, Hernandez, 
 this garrison must number one hundred and 
 forty-five by ^\^ o'clock." 
 
 When the Governor-General reported the 
 terms of surrender of the town and the forces, 
 the citizens were much agitated of course, but 
 the Governor-General's words, as he addressed 
 them in the Plaza, were very encouraging. 
 
 " My people ! " he shouted, " there is noth- 
 ing to fear. Very little will be changed. To- 
 morrow, everything will go on as well as it did 
 yesterday, if not better." 
 
 Continuing, he said: ^^ This afternoon the 
 Cabotian flag will be raised in this town and on 
 the castle, and in return for this privilege the 
 Cabotians will land a large amount of stores, 
 not only canned goods of many varieties^ but 
 flour, coffee, sugar, salt meat, potatoes, and 
 many other things. The man-of-war will then 
 depart, and if she should be overtaken by a 
 typhoon before she reaches her destination 
 there will be no report of the capture of this 
 town. My friends, be calm; we have our 
 honor and the stores I have mentioned." 
 
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 97 
 
 At five o'clock tlie Captain of the man-of- 
 war, accompanied by a party of officers, was 
 rowed to El Morro. At the landing-place they 
 were met by the Governor-General, who ac- 
 companied them up to the fort. There they 
 found the garrison drawn up in two long lines 
 to receive them, those wearing uniforms and 
 with the best arms in the front rank. The 
 Governor glanced along the lines. 
 
 " Heavens! " he whispered to the officer in 
 command, " three of those in the second line 
 are women." 
 
 " It could not be helped, your Excellency," 
 said the officer; " three men got away and we 
 had to clap in these women who were bringing 
 yams to the fort. We put military caps on 
 them, you see, and they each have a ramrod." 
 
 The garrison was counted and the number 
 of prisoners found to be correct. But the three 
 women were noticed. 
 
 " Hello ! " cried the Cabotian Captain. 
 " What is the meaning of this? " 
 
 " Your Excellency," said the Governor- 
 General with a bow, " those are vivandieres; 
 very necessary for the refreshment of the 
 troops in this hot climate." 
 
 The Captain nodded. '^ All right," said he. 
 
98 THE OOVERNOR-QENERAL 
 
 " Hoist our flag over the fort, and then we will 
 proceed to the town." 
 
 When the Captain and his party, with the 
 Governor-General, were rowed to the town, 
 they were joined by a file of marines from the 
 ship, and all proceeded to the town hall. 
 There the Cabotian flag was raised, a salute 
 was fired, and the Captain, in the name of 
 Cabotia, took possession of the town, the island 
 and the neighboring islets. 
 
 " Now then," said he, when the ceremonies 
 had been concluded, " how about that inland 
 battery you spoke of. Where is it? " 
 
 These words sent dismay to the heart of the 
 Governor-General. He had been thinking 
 about that battery and hoping that no present 
 reference would be made to it. He had not 
 visited it for a long time and knew very little 
 about it except that it did not contain anything 
 like a garrison of sixty men. 
 
 " Your Excellency," said he, " it is a long 
 way up to that battery and I would suggest the 
 postponing of the reception of its surrender 
 until to-morrow morning. I hope that you 
 and your ofiicers will now accept the poor hos- 
 pitality of my ofiicial residence, and I crave 
 the honor of presenting you to my wife and 
 daughters." 
 
THE OOVEBNOR-QENERAL 99 
 
 There was a gay time in the town that even- 
 ing. There was a dinner and a dance at the 
 Governor-GeneraFs house, and the example 
 thus set by the official head of the colony was 
 cheerfully followed by many of the citizens. 
 
 In the course of the evening the Governor- 
 General withdrew himself from his company, 
 and wrote a note to the officer in command of 
 the castle and sent it by a fleet-footed mes- 
 senger. It was to this effect: 
 
 ^^ At daybreak to-morrow march sixty of 
 your best-equipped men to the dell behind the 
 inland battery. There they will await my 
 orders. Peoventuka y Tokado." 
 
 Early the next morning the Governor-Gen- 
 eral walked up the hill and there he found 
 the sixty men from the fort, smoking cigarettes 
 at the place appointed. Leaving them, he re- 
 paired to the battery, where he was received 
 w^ith all due military etiquette by the officer in 
 command. Major Cascaro, a true soldier of 
 his mother-land, was a medium-sized man, very 
 lean, very erect, very punctilious. He had a 
 long nose with nostrils like wings, and under 
 this nose was a mustache of such size and 
 
100 THE GOVERNORQENERAL 
 
 density that it looked as if it had been punched 
 into place, a little at a time, until a great mass 
 of it had been securely adjusted. 
 
 " Major," said the Governor-General, " you 
 must prepare, as rapidly as possible, to sur- 
 render this fortification with its garrison. Offi- 
 cers from the Cabotian man-of-war may arrive 
 here at any moment.'^ 
 
 The Major stared fixedly at the Governor- 
 General. " Your Excellency," said he, " what 
 have I to do with the officers of the Cabotian 
 man-of-war? " 
 
 " You have to surrender to them," said the 
 Governor-General, " and the quicker you pre- 
 pare for it, the better." 
 
 The Major drew out the ends of his mus- 
 tache and folded his arms. 
 
 " Your Excellency," said he, " I was ap- 
 pointed to command this fortification and 
 thereby prevent the wild natives from intrud- 
 ing upon the town. It is true that all these 
 natives have disappeared, but that makes no 
 difference. The command has been entrusted 
 to me by the crown of my mother-land. I 
 shall hold it until that crown shall request me 
 to give it up. I have heard the firings and 
 the cannonadings and I have seen the flag-rais- 
 
THE OOVERNOR-OmERAL , " lOl^ 
 
 ings, but all that is nothing to me. I have 
 nothing to do with the forces of Cabotia, and 
 I will not surrender to them." 
 
 " Well, then," impatiently cried the Gov- 
 ernor-General, " surrender to me. It does not 
 make any difference to whom you surrender." 
 
 " Your Excellency," said the Major, " I do 
 not surrender to an enemy, still more firmly 
 do I decline to surrender to a friend." 
 
 " Look here, Major," said the Governor- 
 General, more impatiently, " we are spending 
 too much time in talk. How many men have 
 you in this battery? " 
 
 " Twelve," said the Major, " besides my- 
 self." 
 
 " Any officers under you? " 
 
 " E'ot at present," said the Major. " There 
 were some assigned to this post, but I fill their 
 positions myself." 
 
 " And draw their salaries? " asked the Gov- 
 ernor-General. 
 
 " Of course," said the Major, " as I take 
 their places." 
 
 " !N^ow listen to me," said the Governor- 
 General ; " the whole colony has capitulated, 
 including this battery with a garrison of sixty 
 men. I have prepared for all emergencies. I 
 
ife'; THE CfOVERNOR-QENERAL 
 
 have sixty soldiers from the castle, waiting 
 down here in the dell. If you choose you may 
 have forty-eight of those men to add to your 
 garrison and may surrender them as a whole. 
 If you do not choose, I will pack your fellows 
 off into the woods and surrender the forti- 
 fication myself, with the men from the castle. 
 There must be sixty men surrendered from this 
 spot in less than half an hour. I see now a 
 boat putting off from the ship." 
 
 The Major looked at the Governor-General. 
 '^ Your Excellency," said he, " what are the 
 terms of surrender? " 
 
 " Eations for all prisoners of war until a 
 ship can be sent to take them to their native 
 land." 
 
 " Pay for the officers during that time? " 
 the Major asked. 
 
 " Certainly, that is understood, of course." 
 
 " What is the usual rank of officers com- 
 manding a fortress of Cabotia?" asked the 
 Major. 
 
 " A colonel, I should say," was the answer; 
 " surely no lower than that." 
 
 " With the usual officers under him? " 
 
 " Of course," said the Governor-General; 
 " that goes without saying." 
 
THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL 103 
 
 *^ Your Excellency/' said Major Cascaro, 
 " I will surrender. "Will jou kindly send me 
 your forty-eight men." 
 
 That morning, when the Captain of the 
 man-of-war went on deck he stretched himself 
 and yawned. 
 
 *^ We were up pretty late last night, Mr. 
 Mannering," he said, " and I must say I don't 
 want to go to receive the surrender of that 
 little battery. Send the officers who were in 
 charge of the vessel yesterday. It is fair that 
 they also should have a little skip on shore." 
 
 The remainder of that day was spent in 
 landing stores. As far as it was possible, cloth- 
 ing was humanely issued to the prisoners. The 
 Governor-General spent most of his time on 
 the deck of the man-of-war, for it was neces- 
 sary for him to have frequent conferences with 
 the Captain. 
 
 Among the things which might have been 
 overlooked, had it not been for his thoughtful 
 suggestion, was the necessity of leaving money 
 for the pay of the officials who were to have 
 charge of the prisoners and the captured town. 
 There were other things which were not for- 
 gotten by the prudent Governor-General. 
 Among so many prisoners, medicine would 
 
104 THE OOVERNOR-OENERAL 
 
 probably be necessary, and he hinted that it 
 would not be wise to leave an entire colony 
 without any powder suitable for fowling- 
 pieces and ordinary domestic defence. If there 
 happened to be any powder left from the 
 former gejierous gift, it was really best suited 
 for artillery and barely enough for the firing 
 of a salute when the transport should arrive 
 to take the garrison home. 
 
 All these suggestions were favorably re- 
 ceived by the Captain, and he was so willing 
 to be just as well as generous that when the 
 Governor-General mentioned the case of an 
 elderly female whose family residence had 
 been destroyed by the bombardment on the 
 previous day, and who was now obliged to live 
 in the open air, the Captain ordered the pay- 
 master to put into the hands of the Governor- 
 General sufiicient coin to enable this unfortu- 
 nate sufferer to erect a moderate-sized dwell- 
 ing, with kitchen and other desirable out- 
 buildings. 
 
 Late in the afternoon the man-of-war 
 weighed anchor and steamed out of the harbor, 
 and, as she passed over the bar, the man at the 
 lead noticed that she drew considerably less 
 water than when she went in. 
 
THE OOVERNOR-OENERAL 105 
 
 It was many months after tlie occurrences 
 above narrated that the Governor-General of 
 Manana stood on the edge of a forest in the 
 southern part of the island. It was a lovely 
 day, but though the waters of the encircling 
 Pacific were warm, the breezes which came 
 over from the neighboring islet of Aribo were 
 cool and odorous with the fragrance from 
 many an aromatic tree and shrub. There were 
 no inhabitants on the islet of Aribo and it 
 seemed to exist solely for the purpose of fur- 
 nishing fragrance to the island of Manana 
 when the winds blew from the southeast. 
 
 The soul of the Governor-General was sad; 
 he had just fired his last charge of powder at 
 a parrot and missed it, and his chromatic scale, 
 although nearly finished, still needed two or 
 three birds. 
 
 The rations left by the Cabotian Captain 
 had long since been consumed. The money 
 for the officials' salaries had all been paid out, 
 no transport had entered the harbor of Kuta, 
 and the people of the little colony believed 
 that they had been forgotten. 
 
 The Governor-General felt assured that 
 peace between his mother-land and Cabotia 
 must have been completed, for no nation could 
 
106 THE OOVERNOR-QENEBAL 
 
 stand up long before the valor of the people 
 of his blood, but he feared that in the confu- 
 sion and bustle of the necessary negotiations, 
 his colony had been totally overlooked both 
 by the victors and the vanquished. 
 
 He seated himself on a little rock and gazed 
 out over the sea. His days of prosperity were 
 past; like Alexander, he sighed; there were 
 no other worlds to conquer him 1 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 
 

 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 
 
 THE large and commodious apartments in 
 the upper part of the old Apple joy man- 
 sion were occupied exclusively, at the time of 
 our story, by the ghost of the grandfather of 
 the present owner of the estate. 
 
 For many, many years old Apple joy's ghost 
 had been in the habit of wandering freely 
 about the grand old house and the fine estate 
 of which he had once been the lord and master, 
 but early in that spring a change had come 
 over the household of his grandson, John Ap- 
 plejoy, an elderly man and a bachelor, a lover 
 of books, and — for the later portion of his life 
 — almost a recluse. A young girl, his niece 
 Bertha, had come to live with him, and make 
 part of his very small family, and it was since 
 the arrival of this newcomer that old Apple- 
 joy's ghost had confined himself almost exclu- 
 sively to the upper portions of the house. 
 
 This secluded existence, so different from 
 109 
 
110 OLD APPLEJOY'8 QHOST 
 
 his ordinary habits, was adopted entirely on 
 account of the kindness of his heart. During 
 the lives of two generations of his descendants 
 he knew that he had frequently been seen by 
 members of the family and others, but this did 
 not disturb him, for in life he had been a man 
 who had liked to assert his position, and the 
 disposition to do so had not left him now. JHia 
 grandson John had seen him, and two or three 
 times had spoken with him, but as old Apple- 
 joy's ghost had heard his sceptical descendant 
 declare that these ghostly interviews were only 
 dreams or hallucinations, he cared very little 
 whether John saw him or not. As to other 
 people, it might be a very good thing if they 
 believed that the house was haunted. People 
 with uneasy consciences would not care to live 
 in such a place. 
 
 But when this fresh young girl came upon 
 the scene the case was entirely different. She 
 might be timorous and she might not, but old 
 Apple joy's ghost did not want to take any 
 risks. There was nothing the matter with her 
 conscience, he was quite sure, but she was not 
 twenty yet, her character was not formed, and 
 if anything should happen which would lead 
 her to suspect that the house was haunted she 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S OffOST 111 
 
 might not be willing to live there, and if that 
 should come to pass it would be a great shock 
 to the ghost. 
 
 For a long time the venerable mansion had 
 been a quiet, darkened, melancholy house. A 
 few rooms only were opened and occupied, for 
 John Apple joy and his housekeeper, Mrs. Dip- 
 perton, who for years had composed the fam- 
 ily, needed but little space in which to pass 
 the monotonous days of their lives. Bertha 
 sang, she played on the old piano ; she danced 
 by herself on the broad piazza; she wandered 
 through the gardens and brought flowers into 
 the house, and, sometimes, it almost might 
 have been imagined that the days which were 
 gone had come back again. 
 
 One winter evening, when the light of the 
 full moon entered softly through every un- 
 shaded window of the house, old Apple joy's 
 ghost sat in a stiff, high-backed chair, which 
 on account of an accident to one of its legs 
 had been banished to the garret, f It was not 
 at all necessary either for rest or comfort that 
 this kind old ghost should seat himself in a 
 chair, for he would have been quite as much 
 at his ease upon a clothes-line, but in other 
 days he had been in the habit of sitting in 
 
112 OLD APPLEJOT'S OHOST 
 
 chairs, and it pleased him to do so now. 
 Throwing one shadowy leg over the other, he 
 clasped the long fingers of his hazy hand, and 
 gazed thoughtfully out into the moonlight^ 
 ''"Winter has come," he said to himself. 
 " All is hard and cold, and soon it will be 
 Christmas. Yes, in two days it will be Christ- 
 
 mas 
 
 I " 
 
 For a few minutes he sat reflecting, and 
 then he suddenly started to his feet. 
 
 " Can it be! " he exclaimed. " Can it pos- 
 sibly be that that close-fisted old John, that 
 degenerate son of my noble George, does not 
 intend to celebrate Christmas! It has been 
 years since he has done so, but now that Bertha 
 is in the house, since it is her home, will he 
 dare to pass over Christmas as though it were 
 but a common day? It is almost incredible 
 that such a thing could happen, but so far there 
 have been no signs of any preparations. I have 
 seen nothing, heard nothing, smelt nothing, 
 but this moment will I go and investigate the 
 state of affairs." 
 
 Clapping his misty old cocked hat on his 
 head, and tucking under his arm the shade of 
 his faithful cane, he descended to the lower 
 part of the house. Glancing into the great 
 
OLD APPLEJOT'8 GHOST 113 
 
 parlors dimly lighted by the streaks of moon- 
 light which came between the cracks of the 
 shutters, he saw that all the furniture was 
 shrouded in ancient linen covers, and that the 
 pictures were veiled with gauzy hangings. 
 
 " Humph ! " ejaculated old Applejoy's 
 ghost, /^he expects no company here! " and 
 forthwith he passed through the dining-room 
 — where in the middle of the wide floor was a 
 little round table large enough for three — and 
 entered the kitchen and pantry. There were 
 no signs in the one that anything extraordi- 
 nary in the way of cooking had been done, or 
 was contemplated, and when he gazed upon 
 the pantry shelves, lighted well enough from 
 without for his keen gaze, he groaned. \ " Two 
 days before Christmas,'^ lie said to himself, 
 " and a pantry furnished thus ! How widely 
 different from the olden time when I gave 
 orders for the holidays ! Let me see what the 
 old curmudgeon has provided for Christmas? " 
 
 So saying, old Apple joy's ghost went 
 around the spacious pantry, looking upon 
 shelves and tables, and peering through the 
 doors of a closed closet. " Emptiness ! Empti- 
 ness! Emptiness! " he ejaculated. * "A cold 
 leg of mutton with, I should say, three slices 
 
114 OLD APPLEJOT'S GHOST 
 
 cut out of it; a ham half gone, and the 
 rest of it hardened by exposure to the air; a 
 piece of steak left over from yesterday, or 
 nobody knows when, to be made into hash, no 
 doubt! Cold boiled potatoes — it makes me 
 shiver to look at them! — to be cut up and 
 fried! Pies? there ought to be rows and rows 
 of them, and there is not one ! Cake ? Upon 
 my word, there is no sign of anyl and Christ- 
 mas two days off! 
 
 ■*" "What is this? Is it possible? A fowl! 
 Yes, it is a chicken not full grown, enough 
 for three, no doubt, and the servants can pick 
 the bones. Oh, John, John! how have you 
 fallen! A small-sized fowl for Christmas 
 day! 
 
 " And what more now ! Cider? No trace 
 of it! Here is vinegar — that suits John, no 
 doubt,'|. and then forgetting the present con- 
 dition of his organism, he said to himself, " It 
 makes my very blood run cold to look upon a 
 pantry furnished out like this ! _ I must think 
 about it! I must think about it! " And with 
 bowed head he passed out into the great hall. 
 
 If it were possible to do anything to prevent 
 the desecration of his old home during the so- 
 journ therein of the young and joyous Bertha, 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 115 
 
 the ghost of old Apple joy was determined to 
 do it, but in order to do anything he must put 
 himself into communication with some living 
 being, and who that being should be he did 
 not know. Still rapt in reverie he passed up 
 the stairs and into the great chamber where 
 his grandson slept. There lay the old man, his 
 hard features tinged by the moonlight, his 
 eyelids as tightly closed as if there had been 
 money underneath them. The ghost of old 
 Applejoy stood by his bedside. 
 
 " I can make him wake up and look at me," 
 he thought, X^ot very few persons can remain 
 asleep when anyone is standing gazing down 
 upon them — even if the gazer be a ghost^ — 
 and I might induce him to speak to me so that 
 I might open my mind to him and tell him 
 what I think of him, but what impression 
 could I expect my words to make upon the 
 soul of a one-chicken man like John? I am 
 afraid^ his heart is harder than that dried-up 
 ham. Moreover, if I should be ^ble to speak 
 to him and tell him hie duty, he would per- 
 suade himself that he had been dreaming, and 
 my words .would be of no avail. I am afraid 
 it would be lost time to try to do anything 
 with John!" 
 
116 OLD APPLEJOY'8 GHOST 
 
 Old Applejoy's ghost turned away from the 
 bedside of his sordid descendant, crossed the 
 hall, and passed into the room of Mrs. Dipper- 
 ton, the elderly housekeeper. There she lay 
 fast asleep, )her rgund face glimmering like a 
 transparent bag filled with milk, and from her 
 slightly parted lips there came at regular inter- 
 vals a feeble little snore,, as if even in her 
 hours of repose she was afraid of disturbing 
 somebody. \ 
 
 The kind-hearted ghost shook his head as he 
 looked down upon her. f^ It would be of no 
 use," he said, " she hasn'^t any backbone, and 
 she would never be able to induce old John to 
 turn one inch aside from his parsimonious patl]|^ 
 More than that, if she were to see me she 
 would probably scream and go into a spasm 
 — die, for all T know^— and that would be a 
 pretty preparation for Christmas! " 
 
 Out he went, and into the dreams of the 
 good woman there came no suspicion that the 
 ghost had been standing by her considering 
 her character with a pitying contempt. ^ 
 
 'Now the kind ghost, getting more and more 
 anxious in his mind, passed to the front of the 
 house and entered the chamber occupied by 
 young Bertha. Once inside the door, he 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 117 
 
 stopped reverently and removed his cocked 
 hat. The head of the little bed was near the 
 uncurtained window, and the bright light of 
 the moon shone upon a face more beautiful 
 in slumber than in the sunny hours of day. 
 
 She was not under the influence of the 
 sound, hard sleep which lay upon the master 
 of the house and the mild Mrs. Dipperton. 
 She slept lightly, her delicate lids, through 
 which might almost be seen the deep blue of 
 her eyes, trembled now and then as if they 
 would open, and sometimes her lips moved, as 
 if she would whisper something about her 
 dreams. 
 
 Old Apple joy's ghost drew nearer to the 
 maiden, and bent slightly over her. He knew 
 very well that it was mean to be eavesdropping 
 like this, but it was really necessary that he 
 should know this young girl better than he did. 
 If he could hear a few words from that little 
 mouth he might find out what she thought 
 about, where her mind wandered, what she 
 would like him to do for her. 
 
 At last, faintly whispered, scarcely more 
 audible than her breathing, he heard one word, 
 and that was "Tom!" 
 
 " Oh," said old Applejoy's ghost, as he 
 
118 OLD APPLEJOY'8 0H08T 
 
 stepped back from the bedside, " she wants 
 Tom! I like that! I do not know anything 
 about Tom, but she ought to want him. It is 
 natural, it is true, it is human, and it is long 
 since there has been anything natural, true, or 
 human in this house! But I wish she would 
 say something else. She can't have Tom for 
 Christmas — at least, not Tom alone. There 
 is a great deal else necessary before this can be 
 made a place suitable for Tom ! " 
 
 Again he drew near to Bertha and listened, 
 but instead of speaking, suddenly the maiden 
 opened wide her eyes. The ghost of old Ap- 
 ple] oy drew back, and made a low, respectful 
 bow. The maiden did not move, but her lovely 
 eyes opened wider and wider, and she fixed 
 them upon the apparition, who trembled as he 
 stood, for fear that she might scream, or faint, 
 or in some way foil his generous purpose. If 
 she did not first address him he could not 
 speak to her. 
 
 " Am I asleep? " she murmured, and then, 
 after slightly turning her head from side to 
 side, as if to assure herself that she was in her 
 own room and surrounded by familiar objects, 
 she looked full into the face of old Applejoy's 
 ghost, and boldly spoke to him. \ " Are you a 
 spirit? " said she. 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'8 GHOST 119 
 
 If a flush of joy could redden the counte- 
 nance of a filmy shade, the face of old Apple- 
 joy's ghost would have glowed like a sunlit 
 rose. 
 
 " Dear child," he exclaimed, "I am a 
 spirit ! I am the ghost of your Uncle's grand- 
 father. His sister Maria, the youngest of the 
 family, and much the most charming, I assure 
 you, was your mother, and, of course, I was 
 her grandfather, and just as much, of course, I 
 am the ghost of your great grandfather, but 
 I declare to you I never felt prouder at any 
 moment of my existences, previous or pres- 
 ent!" 
 
 " Then you must be the original Applejoy," 
 said Bertha; " and I think it very wonderful 
 that I am not afraid of you, but I am not. 
 You look as if you would not hurt anybody 
 in this world, especially me ! " 
 
 " There you have it," /he exclaimed, bring- 
 ing his cane down upon the floor with a vio- 
 lence which had it been the cane it used to be 
 would have wakened everybody in the house.- 
 " There you have it, my dear! I vow to you 
 there is not a person in this world for whom I 
 have such an affection as I feel for you. You 
 remind me of my dear son George. You are 
 
120 OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 
 
 the picture of Maria when she was about your 
 age. Your coming to this house has given me 
 the greatest pleasure ; you have brought into it 
 something of the old life. I wish I could tell 
 you how happy I have been since the bright 
 spring day that brought you here." 
 
 " I did not suppose I would make any- 
 one happy by coming here," said Bertha. 
 " Uncle John does not seem to care much 
 about me, and I suppose I ought to be satisfied 
 with Mrs. Dipperton if she does not object to 
 me — but now the case is different. I did not 
 know about you." 
 
 " l!^o, indeed," exclaimed the good ghost, 
 " you did not know about me, but I intend you 
 to know about me. But now we must waste no 
 more words — we must get down to business. 
 I came here to-night with a special object." 
 
 " Business? " said Bertha, inquiringly. 
 
 " Yes," said the ghost, " it is business, and 
 it is important, and it is about Christmas. 
 Your uncle does not mean to have any Christ- 
 mas in this house, but I intend, if I can posr 
 sibly do so, to prevent him from disgracing 
 himself, but I cannot do anything without 
 somebody's help, and there is nobody to help 
 me but you. Will you do it? " 
 
OLD APPLEJOT'S GHOST 121 
 
 Bertha could not refrain from a smile. " It 
 would be funny to help a ghost to do any- 
 thing/' she said; " but if I can assist you I 
 shall be very glad." 
 
 " I want you to go into the lower part of the 
 house," said he. " I have something to show 
 you that I am sure will interest you very 
 much. 1 1 shall now go down into the hall, 
 where I shall wait for you, and I should like 
 you to dress yourself as warmly and comfort- 
 ably as you can. It would be well to put a 
 shawl around your head and shoulders. Have 
 you some warm, soft slippers that will make 
 no noise ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Bertha, her eyes twinkling 
 with delight at the idea of, this novel expedi- 
 tion, " I shall be dressed and with you in no 
 time." 
 
 " Do not hurry yourself," said the good 
 ghost, as he left the room, " we hate most 
 of the night before us." 
 
 When the young girl had descended the 
 great staircase almost as noiselessly as the 
 ghost, who had preceded her, she found her 
 venerable companion waiting for her. 
 
 " Do you see the lantern on the table," said 
 he. " John uses it when he goes his round of 
 
122 OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 
 
 the house at bedtime. There are matches 
 hanging above it. Please light it. You may 
 be sure I would not put you to this trouble if 
 I were able to do it myself." 
 
 She dimly perceived the brass lantern, and 
 when she had lighted it the ghost invited her 
 to enter the study. 
 
 " Now/' said he, as he led the way to the 
 large desk with the cabinet above it, " will you 
 be so good as to open that glass door? It is 
 not locked." 
 
 Bertha hesitated a little, but she opened the 
 door. 
 
 " ^NTow, please put your hand into the front 
 corner of that middle shelf. You cannot see 
 anything, but you will feel a key hanging upon 
 a little hook." 
 
 But Bertha did not obey. " This is my 
 uncle's cabinet," she said, " and I have no 
 right to meddle with his keys and things! " 
 » Now the ghost of old Applejoy drew him- 
 self up to the six feet two inches which had 
 been his stature in life; he slightly frowned, 
 his expression was almost severe — but he con- 
 trolled himself, and spoke calmly to the girl/ 
 *^ This was my cabinet," he said, " and I have 
 never surrendered it to your uncle John! 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 123 
 
 With my own hands I screwed the little hook 
 into that dark corner and hung the key upon 
 it! Now I beg that you will take down that 
 key. You have the authority of your great- 
 grandfather.'' 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation Bertha put 
 her hand into the dark corner of the shelf and 
 took the key from the hook. 
 
 " Thank you very much," said the ghost of 
 old Apple joy. " And now please unlock that 
 little drawer — the one at the bottom." 
 
 Bertha unlocked and opened the drawer. 
 " It is full of old keys! " she said. 
 
 " Yes," said the ghost, " and you will find 
 that they are all tied together in a bunch. 
 Those keys are what we came for! Now, my 
 dear," said ho, standing in front of her and 
 looking down upon her very earnestly, but so 
 kindly that she was not in the least afraid of 
 him, r^ I want you to understand that what we 
 are going to do is strictly correct and proper, 
 without a trace of inquisitive meanness about 
 it. This was once my house — everything in it 
 I planned and arranged. I am now going to 
 take you into the cellars of my old mansion. 
 They are wonderful cellars; they were my 
 pride and glory! I often used to take my vis- 
 
124 OLD APPLEJOT'8 GHOST 
 
 itors to see them, and wide and commodious 
 stairs lead down to them. Are jou afraid," he 
 said, " to descend with me into these subter- 
 ranean regions? " 
 
 " E'ot a bit of it ! " exclaimed Bertha, al- 
 most too loud for prudence. " I have heard of 
 the cellars and wanted to see them, though 
 Mrs. Dipperton told me that my uncle never 
 allowed anyone to enter them; but I think it 
 will be the j oiliest thing in the world to go 
 with my great-grandfather into the cellars 
 which he built himself, and of which he was 
 so ^roud! " 
 
 '^ This speech so charmed the ghost of old Ap- 
 ple] oy that he would instantly have kissed his 
 great-granddaughter had it not been that he 
 was afraid hi giving her a cold. 
 
 "You are a girl to my liking! " he ex- 
 claimed, " and I wish with all my heart that 
 you had been living at the time I was alive 
 and master of this house. We should have 
 had gay times together — you may believe 
 that!" 
 
 " I wish you were alive now, dear great- 
 grandpapa," said she, " and that would be 
 better than the other way! And now let us 
 go on — I am all impatience I '' 
 
rz. 
 
 OLD APPLEJOT'8 GHOST 125 
 
 They then descended into the cellars, which, 
 until the present owner came into possession of 
 the estate, had been famous throughout the 
 neighborhood. ] " This way," said old Apple- 
 joy's ghost. " You will find the floor perfectly 
 dry, and if we keep moving you will not be 
 chilled. 
 
 " Do you see that row of old casks nearly 
 covered with cobwebs and dust? N^ow, my 
 dear, those casks contain some of the choicest 
 spirits ever brought into this country, and most 
 of them are more than half full! The finest 
 rum from Jamaica, brandy from France, and 
 gin from Holland — gin with such a flavor, my 
 dear, that if you were to take out the bung 
 the delightful aroma would fill the whole 
 house! There is port there, too, and if it is 
 not too old it must be the rarest wine in the 
 country ! And Madeira, a little glass of which, 
 my dear, is a beverage worthy even of you! 
 
 " These things were not stowed away by me, 
 but by my dear son George, who knew their 
 value; but as for John — he drinks water and 
 tea! He is a one-chicken man, and if he has 
 allowed any of these rare spirits to become 
 worthless, simply on account of age, he ought 
 to be sent to the county prison ! 
 
126 OLD APPLEJOT'S GHOST 
 
 " But we must move on ! Do you see all 
 these bottles — dingy looking enough, but filled 
 with the choicest wines? Many of these are 
 better than ever they were, although some of 
 them may have spoiled. John would let 
 e^^erything spoil. He is a dog in the manger! 
 
 " Come into this little room. I^Tow, then, 
 hold up your lantern, and look all around you. 
 Notice that row of glass jars on the shelf. 
 They are filled with the finest mincemeat ever 
 made by mortal man — or woman! It is the 
 same kind of mincemeat I used to eat. George 
 had it put up so that he might have the sort of 
 pies at Christmas which I gave him when he 
 was a boy. That mincemeat is just as good as 
 ever it was ! John is a dyspeptic ; he wouldn't 
 eat mince-pie ! But he will eat fried potatoes, 
 and they are ten times worse for him, if he 
 did but know it ! 
 
 " There are a lot more jars and cans, all 
 sealed up tightly. I do not know what good 
 things are in them, but I am sure their con- 
 tents are just what will be wanted to fill out a 
 Christmas table. If Mrs. Dipperton were to 
 come down here and open those jars and bot- 
 tles she would think she was in Heaven! 
 ~*"^But now, my dear, I want to show you 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S 0E08T 127 
 
 the grandest thing in these cellars, the dia- 
 mond of the collection! Behold that wooden 
 box ! Inside of it is another box made of tin, 
 soldered up tightly, so that it is perfectly air- 
 tight. Inside of that tin box is a great plum- 
 cake! x\nd now listen to me, Bertha! That 
 cake was put into that box by me. I intended 
 it to stay there for a long time, for plum-cake 
 gets better and better the longer it is kept, but 
 I did not suppose that the box would not be 
 opened for three generations! The people 
 who eat that cake, my dear Bertha, will be 
 blessed above all their fellow mortals! that 
 is tq_say, as far as cake-eating goes. 
 
 " And now I think you have seen enough to 
 understand thoroughly that these cellars are 
 the abode of many -good things to eat and to 
 drink. It is their abode, but if John could 
 have his way it would be their sepulchre! I 
 was fond of good living, as you may well im- 
 agine, and so was my dear son George, but 
 John is a degenerate ! '' 
 
 But why did you bring me here, great- 
 grandpapa? " said Bertha. " Do you want me 
 to come down herq, and have my Christmas 
 dinner with you? " ; And ag she said this she 
 unselfishly hoped that when the tin box should 
 
128 OLD APPLEJOY'8 GHOST 
 
 be opened it might contain the ghost of a cake, 
 for it was quite plain that her great-grand- 
 father had been an enthusiast in the matter of 
 plum-cake. 
 
 ^^^1^0, indeed," said old Applejoy's ghost. 
 " Come up-stairs, and let us go into the study. 
 There are some coals left on the hearth, and 
 you will not be chilled while we talk." 
 
 "When the great cellar-door had been locked, 
 the keys replaced in the drawer, the little key 
 hung upon its hook, and the cabinet closed. 
 Bertha sat down before the fireplace and 
 warmed her fingers over the few embers it con- 
 tained, while the spirit of ^ her great-grand- 
 father stood by her and talked to her. 
 
 " Bertha," said he, " it is wicked not to cele- 
 brate Christmas — especially when one is able 
 to do so — in the most hospitable and generous 
 way. For years John has taken no notice of 
 Christmas, and it is full time that he should 
 reform, and it is your duty and my duty to 
 reform him if we can! You have seen what 
 he has in the cellars; there are turkeys in the 
 poultry-yard — for I know he has not sold 
 them all — and if there is anything wanting 
 for a grand Christmas celebration he has an 
 abundance of money with which to buy it. 
 
OLD APPLEJOT'8 GHOST 129 
 
 There is not mucli time before Christmas Day, 
 but there is time enough to do everything 
 that has to be done, if you and I go to work 
 and set other people to work." 
 
 " And how are we to do that? " asked Ber- 
 tha. 
 
 " We haven't an easy task before us," said 
 the ghost, " but I have been thinking a great 
 deal about it, and I believe we can accomplish 
 it. The straightforward thing to do is for me 
 to appear to your uncle, tell him his duty, 
 and urge him to perform it, but I know what 
 will be the result. Pe would call the interview 
 a dream, and attribute it to too much hash 
 and fried potatoes, jjand *the result would be 
 that he would have a plainer table for awhile 
 and half starve you and Mrs. Dipperton.^; But 
 there is nothing dreamlike about you, my dear. 
 If anyone hears you talking he will know he is 
 awake." 
 
 " I think that is very true," said Bertha, 
 smiling. " Do you want me to talk to un- 
 cle?" 
 
 " Yes," said old Applejoy's ghost, " I do 
 want you to talk to him. I want you to go to 
 him immediately after breakfast to-morrow 
 morning, and tell him exactly what has hap- 
 
130 OLD APPLEJOY'8 GHOST 
 
 pened this night. \ He cannot believe dreams 
 are fried potatoes when you tell him about the 
 little key in the corner of the shelf, the big 
 keys in the drawer, the casks of spirits (and 
 
 ^you can tell him what is in each one), the jars 
 of mincemeat, and the wooden box nailed fast 
 and tight with th6 tin box inside holding the 
 cake. John knows all about that cake, for his 
 father told him, and he knows all about me, 
 too, although he tries not to believe in me, and 
 when you have told him all you have seen, and 
 when you give him my message, I think it will 
 make him feel that you and I are awake, and 
 that he would better keep awake, too, if he 
 
 Jtnows what's good for him." 
 
 " And what is the message ? " asked Bertha. 
 " It is simply this," said old Applejoy's 
 ghost. " When you have told him all the 
 events of this night, and when he sees that they 
 must have happened, for you could not have 
 imagined them, I want you to tell him that 
 it is my wish and desire, the wish and desire of 
 his grandfather, to whom he owes everything 
 he possesses, that there shall be worthy festivi- 
 ties in this house on Christmas Day and Night 
 — I would say something about Christmas Eve, 
 but I am afraid there is not time enough for 
 
OLD APPLE JOT'S 0H08T 131 
 
 that. Tell him to kill his turkeys, open his 
 cellars, and spend his money. Tell him to 
 send for at least a dozen good friends and rela- 
 tives, for they will gladly give up their own 
 Christmas dinner when they know that the 
 great holiday is to be celebrated in this house. 
 There is time enough, messengers and horses 
 can be hired, and you can attend to the invita- 
 tions. Mrs. Dipperton is a good manager when 
 she has a chance, and I know she will do her- 
 self honor this time if John will give her the 
 range. 
 
 " E'ow, my dear," said old Applejoy's 
 ghost, drawing near to the young girl, " I want 
 to ask you a question — a private, personal ques- 
 tion. Who is Tom?" 
 
 At these words a sudden blush rushed into 
 the cheeks of Bertha. 
 
 ^^ Tom? "she said; " what Tom? " 
 
 " Now, don't beat about the bush with me," 
 said old Applejoy's ghost; "I am sure you 
 know a young man named Tom, and I want 
 you to tell me who he is. My name was Tom, 
 and for the sake of my past life I am very fond 
 of Toms. But you must tell me about your 
 Tom — is he a nice young fellow? Do you 
 like him very much ? " 
 
132 OLD APPLEJOY'S QHOST 
 
 " Yes," said Bertha, meaning the answer 
 to cover both questions. 
 
 ^* And does he like you? " 
 
 " I think so," said Bertha. 
 
 " That means you are in love with each 
 other! " exclaimed old Apple joy's ghost. 
 " And now, my dear, tell me his name ? Out 
 with it! You can't help yourself." 
 
 " Mr. Burcham," r said Bertha, her cheeks 
 now a little pale, for it seemed to her a very 
 bold thing for her to talk in this way even in 
 the company of only a spirit. / 
 
 " Son of Thomas Burcham of the Mead- 
 ows? Grandson of old General Burcham? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Bertha. 
 
 The ghost of old Apple joy gazed down 
 upon his great-granddaughter with pride and 
 admiration. 
 
 " My dear Bertha," he exclaimed, " I con- 
 gratulate you! I knew the old general well, 
 and I have seen young Tom. He is a fine-look- 
 ing fellow, and if you love him I know he is a 
 good one. E^ow, I'll tell you what we will 
 do. Bertha. We will have Tom here on Christ- 
 mas." 
 
 " Oh, great-grandfather," exclaimed the 
 girl, " I can't ask uncle to invite him." 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 133 
 
 " We will make it all right," said the beam- 
 ing ghost. " We will have a bigger party than 
 we thought we would. All the guests when 
 they are invited will be asked to bring their 
 families. When a big dinner is given at this 
 house Thomas Burcham, Esq., must not be 
 left out, and don't you see. Bertha, he is bound 
 to bring Tom. And now you must not stay 
 here a minute longer. Skip back to your bed, 
 and immediately after breakfast come here to 
 your uncle and tell him everything I have 
 told you to tell him." 
 
 Bertha rose to obey, but she hesitated. 
 
 " Great-grandfather," she said, " if uncle 
 does allow us to celebrate Christmas, will you 
 be with us? " 
 
 ^^ Yes, indeed, my dear," said he. " And 
 you need not be afraid of my frightening any- 
 body. When I choose I can be visible to some 
 and invisible to others. I shall be everywhere 
 and I shall hear everything, but I shall appear 
 only to the loveliest woman who ever graced 
 this mansion. And now be off to bed without 
 another word." 
 
 ^' If she hadn't gone," said old Applejoy's 
 ghost to himself, " I couldn't have helped giv- 
 ing her a good-night kiss." 
 
134 OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 
 
 The next morning, as Bertha told the story 
 of her night's adventures to her uncle, the face 
 of John Apple] oy grew paler and paler. He 
 was a hard-headed man, but a superstitious one, 
 and when the story began he wondered if it 
 were a family failing to have dreams about 
 ghosts; but when he heard of the visit to the 
 cellars, and especially when Bertha told him of 
 his grandfather's plum-cake, the existence of 
 which he had believed was not known to any- 
 one but himself, he felt it was impossible for 
 the girl to have dreamed these things.^f When 
 Bertha had finished he actually believed that 
 she had seen and talked with the ghost of her 
 great-grandfather. With all the power of his 
 will he opposed this belief, but it was too much 
 for him, and he surrendered. But he was a 
 proud raan and would not admit to his niece 
 that he put any faith in the existence of ghosts. 
 
 " My dear," said he, rising and standing be- 
 fore the fire, his face still pale, but his ex- 
 pression under good control, " you have had 
 a very strange dream. ]^ow, don't declare that 
 it wasn't a dream. — people always do that — 
 but hear me out. \ Although there is nothing 
 of weight in what you have told me — for tra- 
 ditions about my cellars have been afloat in 
 
OLD APPLEJOY'S GHOST 135 
 
 the family — still your pretty little story sug- 
 gests sometliing to me. This is Christmas-time 
 and I had almost overlooked it. You are 
 young and lively and accustomed to the cele- 
 bration of holidays. Therefore, I have de- 
 termined, my dear, to consider your dream 
 just as if it had been a real happening, and 
 we will have a grand Christmas dinner, and 
 invite our friends and their families. I know 
 there must be good things in the cellars, al- 
 though I had almost forgotten them, and 
 they shall be brought up and spread out and 
 enjoyed. E^ow go and send Mrs. Dipperton 
 to me, and when we have finished our con- 
 sultation, you and I will make out a list of 
 guests and send off the invitations." 
 
 When she had gone, John Apple joy sat 
 down in his big chair and looked fixedly into 
 the fire. He would not have dared to go to 
 bed that night if he had disregarded the mes- 
 sage from his grandfather.'"" * " • 
 
 .^N^ever since the old house had begun to 
 stand upon its foundations had there been such 
 glorious Christmas-times within its walls. The 
 news that old Mr. Apple joy was sending out 
 invitations to a Christmas dinner spread like 
 wildfire through the neighborhood, and those 
 
136 OLD APPLEJOY'8 GHOST 
 
 who were not invited were almost as mucli ex- 
 cited as those who were asked to be guestsjl 
 The idea of inviting people by families was 
 considered a grand one, worthy indeed of the 
 times of old Mr. Tom Apple joy, the grand- 
 father of the present owner, who had been the 
 most hospitable man in the whole country. 
 
 For the first time in nearly a century all the 
 leaves of the great dining-table were put into 
 use, and chairs for the company were brought 
 from every part of the house., f AH the pent-up 
 domestic enthusiasm in the soul of Mrs. Dip- 
 perton,^the existence of whicJi-nO one had sus- 
 pected, now burst i)ut in one grand volcanic 
 eruption, and the great table had as much as it 
 could do to stand tip under its burdens brought 
 from cellar, bam, and surrounding country. 
 "In the very middle of everything was th6 
 great and wonderful plum-cake which had 
 been put away by the famous grandfather of 
 the host. 
 
 But the cake was not cut. " My friends," 
 said Mr. John Applejoy, " we may all look at 
 this cake but we will not eat it ! We will keep 
 it just as it is until a marriage shall occur in 
 this family. Then you are all invited to come 
 and enjoy it ! " 
 
OLD APPLEJOT'8 GHOST 137 
 
 At the conclusion of this little speech old 
 Applejoy's ghost patted his degenerate grand- 
 son upon the head. " You don't feel that, 
 John," he said to himself, " but it is approba- 
 tion, and this is the first time I have ever ap- 
 proved of you! You must know of the exist- 
 ence of young Tom ! You may turn out to be 
 a good fellow yet, and if you will drink some 
 of that rare old Madeira every day, I am sure 
 you will ! " 
 
 Late in the evening there was a grand dance 
 in the great hall, which opened with an old- 
 fashioned minuet, and when the merry guests 
 were forming on the floor, a young man named 
 Tom came forward and asked the hand of 
 Bertha. 
 
 " ITo," said she, " not this time. I am go- 
 ing to dance this first dance with — well, we 
 will say by myself! " 
 
 At these words the most thoroughly grati- 
 fied ghost in all space, stepped up to the side of 
 the lovely girl, and with his cocked hat folded 
 flat under his left arm, he made a low bow 
 and held out his hand. With his neatly tied 
 cue, his wide-skirted coat, his long waist- 
 coat trimmed with lace, his tightly drawn 
 stockings and his buckled shoes, there was not 
 such a gallant figure in the whole company. 
 
138 OLD APPLEJOY'8 QHOST 
 
 Bertha put out her hand and touched the 
 shadowy fingers of her partner, and then, side 
 by side, she and the ghost of her great-grand- 
 father opened the ball. Together they made 
 the coupee, the high step, and the balance. 
 They advanced, they retired, they came to- 
 gether. With all the grace of fresh young 
 beauty and ancient courtliness they danced 
 the minuet. 
 
 " What a strange young girl," said some of 
 the guests, ^^and what a queer fancy to go 
 through that dance all by herself, but how 
 beautifully she did it ! " 
 
 " Yery eccentric, my dear! " said Mr. John 
 Applejoy, when the dance was over. '^ But 
 you danced most charmingly. I could not help 
 thinking as I looked at you that there was no- 
 body in this room that was worthy to be your 
 partner." 
 
 " You are wrong there, old fellow 1 " was 
 the simultaneous mental ejaculation of young 
 Tom Burcham and of old Applejoy's ghost. 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 I. 
 
 WHE^N" I opened my law office in the 
 little country town of Camborougli, I 
 was just twenty-five years old. I made it a 
 point to begin my legal career with my second 
 quarter of a century. When my twenty-sixth 
 birthday arrived, and no client had yet come 
 to me, I felt a little low in spirits, although T 
 knew very well there was no good reason that 
 I should do so; but as hoping without rea- 
 son is a mental occupation so common to the 
 human race, I felt that I had as good a right 
 as any other of my fellow-beings to indulge in 
 it. 
 
 In the meantime, while waiting for clients, 
 I studied, I sedulously attended the courts, 
 and I fell in love. Whether or not this last- 
 mentioned afPair was connected in any way 
 with hoping without reason, I could not say, 
 141 
 
142 STRUCK BY A BOOMEEANG 
 
 but I still followed the example of the human 
 race, and loved with the earnestness and stead- 
 fastness which I should have been glad to put 
 into law business, if I had had the opportunity. 
 
 ISTatalie Kefford was the eldest daughter of 
 Mr. Archibald Kefford, one of the leading 
 citizens of Camborough. She was a beautiful 
 woman, with a soul — so far as I could dis- 
 cover — ^in thorough harmony with my own. 
 I had become acquainted with the family when 
 I first came to the town as a law student, and 
 thus I had learned to know them all well, and 
 to love !Natalie. She was not engaged to me, 
 but I considered that I was engaged to her. 
 It was a solemn compact made with myself. 
 
 Feeling as I did toward the Kefford family, 
 it is not surprising that I should have derived 
 an unmistakable satisfaction, I may say pleas- 
 ure, in the news of the death of Nicholas Kef- 
 ford, an uncle of I^atalie^s father. This old 
 gentleman had been a farmer residing near 
 the village of Satbury, about five miles from 
 Camborough. His agricultural operations and 
 his success in speculations of various kinds had 
 given him a very fair property, and he was 
 generally considered one of the rich men of 
 the county. He was unmarried, and his only 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 143 
 
 natural heirs were Mr. Archibald Kefford and 
 his sister, Mrs. Crown, a widow with several 
 children, living near Baltimore. 
 
 As the old man had always been on very 
 friendly terms with his nephew and his niece, 
 it was natural to expect that the whole or a 
 part of his property would be divided between 
 them. Neither of them was rich, for although 
 Mr. Kefford's business — he was a real estate 
 agent — was fairly good, his family was grow- 
 ing more expensive each year. Mrs. Crown 
 possessed but a limited income, and she had 
 probably built high hopes upon her uncle's in- 
 evitable demise. 
 
 I did not blame myself for my gratification 
 at the news of the death of ^N'icholas Kefford. 
 If I had known Mrs. Crown I should not have 
 blamed her for any pleasure she might have 
 shown on account of the event, and although 
 Mr. Archibald Kefford, who had always lived 
 so near his uncle and had been on terms of 
 more intimacy with him, showed a genuine 
 sorrow when he died, I should have found no 
 fault with any quiet illumination of his inner 
 soul if I could have looked into those recesses. 
 To die for the benefit of others after a man 
 had lived long for his own benefit, may be 
 
14A 8TRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 considered a most commendable close to a suc- 
 cessful life. 
 
 But when Mr. Nicholas Kefford's will was 
 opened, it was discovered that his property was 
 not left to his nephew and his niece. The will, 
 which was found in the old gentleman's desk, 
 was dated about a year back, and in it the 
 testator left all his property, without reserva- 
 tion, to charity; more than this, he left it to 
 a single charity : " The Satbury Institution 
 for the Cure of E'ervous Diseases." 
 
 The announcement of the contents of the 
 will occasioned surprise and indignation 
 throughout Camborough and the vicinity. It 
 was almost impossible to understand such de- 
 pravity in one who, for so many years, had 
 been considered an estimable citizen. Old 
 Kefford apparently had never had any nerves 
 himself, and why should he suddenly evince 
 such an interest in the nerves of other people ? 
 
 The institution to which this most amazing 
 bequest had been made, consisted at that time 
 of a large house standing in an open field. It 
 contained a few officers and attendants, a very 
 few patients, all from a distance, and was pre- 
 sided over, directed, and managed by Spencer 
 Latimer, M.D., also from a distance. This 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 145 
 
 gentleman had come from the salubrious 
 region of Satbury about three years before, 
 had bought some land of Nicholas Kefford, 
 and had erected his institution. The Cam- 
 borough people had never cared for Doctor 
 Latimer; and although there were persons in 
 the town who, to my certain knowledge, were 
 afflicted with nervous disorders — such, for in- 
 stance, as an unreasonable distrust for attor- 
 neys and barristers who might happen to be at 
 the beginning of their careers — none of them 
 ever patronized the institution, and although 
 it was known that old Nicholas Kefford did 
 show a certain interest in the establishment, it 
 was supposed that he held mortgages upon said 
 property, and was looking out for the mo- 
 ment when it would be advisable for him to 
 foreclose. He was a sagacious speculator and 
 exceedingly skilful in the art of calculating 
 the probable period of a mortgage. 
 
 It was very easy to see, when this affair had 
 been thoroughly discussed from various points 
 of view, that the estate of Nicholas Kefford 
 had, in reality been left, not to charity, more 
 or less worthy, but to Spencer Latimer, M.D., 
 for his sole benefit and uses. He, in fact, was 
 the Institution. There seemed to be nobody 
 
146 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 to whom he was responsible, and why he 
 should become the owner of this property and 
 why Mcholas Kefford should have left it to 
 him, were questions which nobody in Cam- 
 borough troubled himself to answer, for no- 
 body believed that the will was a true one. 
 
 Mr. Kefford and Mrs. Crown took legal ad- 
 vice, the will was disputed, and when it was 
 submitted to the court it was not admitted to 
 probate. These proceedings were resented and 
 opposed by Doctor Latimer. They not only 
 interfered with the interests of the Institution 
 to which he had the honor to be attached, but 
 they struck a cruel blow at his reputation. He 
 asserted that old Mr. Kefford had long been 
 his valued friend; that he, Latimer, would not 
 have come to Satbury if Mr. Kefford had not 
 advised it; that he could not have afforded to 
 establish himself there had it not been for Mr. 
 Kefford's assistance. He also declared that 
 this bequest was not surprising to him, for it 
 had been talked over between him and the old 
 gentleman, who had assured him that his 
 nephew and his niece were in comfortable cir- 
 cumstances, and that he desired to leave his 
 hard-earned money to an institution where it 
 would be of lasting benefit. The doctor was 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 147 
 
 confident that he could establish the validity 
 of the will, and he also engaged legal advisers. 
 
 In reference to the legal advice I have men- 
 tioned, I am obliged to say that none of it was 
 my own, and I must also admit that this omis- 
 sion to consider me in connection with the pro- 
 ceedings contemplated by Mr. Kefford and his 
 sister, touched, not pleasantly, my somewhat 
 sensitive feelings. It did seem to me that here 
 was a chance to assist a deserving young friend, 
 of which Mr. Kefford should have gladly 
 availed himself, especially when he knew, as he 
 could not fail to know, that it was not only for 
 myself that I desired to work and to succeed. 
 This case, too, was a very simple one, a mere 
 matter of a will probably forged or altered, 
 such as I have often read of in law books and 
 even in novels. It would have been in every 
 way a most suitable case for me to begin upon, 
 but I was not asked to give the slightest assist- 
 ance, and Mr. Kefford put the case of himself 
 and Mrs. Crown into the hands of Messrs. 
 Shallcross & Dorman, a firm of lawyers, who 
 already had so much business they did not 
 know what to do with it. 
 
 Although sorely hurt, I determined that I 
 would not let any of the Kefford family know 
 
148 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 it. Even to Natalie I made no complaint, and 
 to Mr. Kefford I talked of the affair as I would 
 of any matter in which it was not expected 
 that I should take anything but a friendly in- 
 terest. The wound rankled, but I believe I 
 concealed it. 
 
 One strong objection to the validity of the 
 will was the fact that everything which had 
 been owned by the testator was given without 
 reserve to the Institution. It was reasonably 
 argued that even if old Mr. Kefford had de- 
 sired to give the greater part of his property 
 to this charity, he would have made some be- 
 quests to his relatives. I had studied the will 
 very carefully, and in conversation with Mr. 
 Kefford I took occasion to give my ideas con- 
 cerning this peculiar feature of it. 
 
 " I believe, sir," said I, " that this will is 
 a copy of a true will made by old Mr. Kefford, 
 and of which Doctor Latimer had gained pos- 
 session. The property bequeathed is described 
 so clearly and in such detail that I do not 
 believe anyone but the old gentleman could 
 have drawn it or dictated it. It was probably 
 all left to yourself and your sister, and the only 
 alteration which Doctor Latimer dared to make 
 was the substitution of his name for those orig- 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 149 
 
 inally mentioned. If he could have done so, 
 I believe he would have inserted other bequests 
 so as to give the document an air of natural- 
 ness and credibility, but as he could not con- 
 sult anyone of legal experience in the matter 
 of altering a will, and as he was afraid to do it 
 himself for fear of making a mistake which 
 would have spoilt everything, he confined him- 
 self to the change of names. That is the way 
 I look at it, sir." 
 
 Mr. Kefford replied that he thought it was 
 not at all unlikely that I was correct in my 
 suppositions, and I have reason to believe that 
 he mentioned these suppositions to Shallcross 
 & Dorman ; but I did not mind this. If there 
 was anything I could do for Natalie's family 
 I would do it, asking only that they should do 
 one thing for me — that is, if I should find 
 that I^atalie was willing it should be done. 
 
 In regard to the signature of the will there 
 were diverse opinions, but the majority of 
 those who examined it thought that if it were 
 not the writing of Nicholas Kefford it looked 
 very much like it. However, it could not be 
 expected that a man of Doctor Latimer's 
 shrewdness would undertake to fabricate a 
 false will without being able to counterfeit a 
 signature. 
 
160 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 Of the witnesses to the will, one, John Ash- 
 more, an elderly man employed on old Kef- 
 ford's farm, had died soon after the date of the 
 will, and no one had heard him say anything 
 about witnessing such a document. The other 
 witness, Keuben Farris, was a man who also 
 had been employed by old Mr. Kefford. He 
 was a carpenter, and had been engaged at 
 various times in making repairs to barns and 
 out-houses. He was of a wandering disposi- 
 tion and had left this part of the country some 
 time in the last summer, but no one could be 
 found who recollected exactly whether or not 
 he had been on the Kefford farm at the date 
 of the will. Of course it was very necessary to 
 find Farris. If he could testify that he had 
 witnessed the will it would be an advantage- 
 ous thing for Doctor Latimer, and if he could 
 testify that he had not witnessed such a will, 
 it would be equally advantageous for the con- 
 testants. 
 
 Inquiries regarding the whereabouts of 
 Eeuben Farris were now set on foot. It was 
 known that he had gone West, and that he had 
 relatives in Missouri. In the meantime there 
 turned up an old woman in Satbury who felt 
 quite certain that Reuben Farris had put a 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 161 
 
 hinge on her garden gate early in August, and 
 she thought it was about the tenth of August 
 of the preceding year. She based this belief 
 upon the fact that while he was at work upon 
 the gate he remarked that he had not yet seen 
 tomatoes so nearly ripe as those in her little 
 patch, and she was of the opinion that she had 
 had ripe tomatoes very early in August. As 
 she could swear to no part of her belief, having 
 a poor memory for exact dates, no legal notice 
 could be taken of her opinions, especially as 
 one of her neighbors asserted that he had 
 gathered ripe tomatoes on the second day in 
 August, and therefore, if Mrs. Budlong had 
 had good success with her tomatoes, Reuben 
 Farris might have made his remarks concern- 
 ing them considerably earlier than August 
 the tenth. 
 
 But although the opinions of Mrs. Budlong 
 and her neighbor did not possess a legal value, 
 they made an impression in Camborough. So 
 little was known about Farris, even in Sat- 
 bury, that the incident of the gate-hinge was 
 considered of importance, giving some rea- 
 son to believe that the second witness had been 
 in the vicinity of the Kefford f aim on or about 
 the tenth of August. 
 
162 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 Reuben Farris was finally discovered to be 
 living in St. Louis, and, having been offered 
 his travelling expenses and something besides 
 if he would come and give some desired testi- 
 mony in regard to old Kefford's property, he 
 readily consented, and set out without loss of 
 time. It must be mentioned that Doctor Lati- 
 mer insisted upon bearing part of the expenses 
 of bringing Farris to Camborough. He de- 
 clared that he desired more than anyone else 
 that everything in relation to the will should 
 be made clear and plain. This was somewhat 
 disheartening to the Kefford interest. They 
 would have preferred that the doctor should 
 have the desire that Farris should not testify. 
 
 On the twenty-first day of August, about 
 half-past nine in the evening, Reuben Farris 
 arrived at Camborough. He had been told to 
 report at the Mansion House, and the nearest 
 way from the station to that hotel was through 
 Decatur Street, a small street in the business 
 part of the town and very little frequented at 
 night. About quarter past ten two men hur- 
 rying through Decatur Street to make a short 
 cut, because the night was dark and rainy, 
 nearly stumbled upon a man lying upon the 
 sidewalk, apparently dead. When assistance 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 153 
 
 had been called, and tlie man had been con- 
 veyed to the station-house, it was found that 
 he was Reuben Farris. 
 
 This occurrence created great excitement in 
 Camborough. Farris was not dead, but had 
 been stunned by a terrible blow on the head. 
 There had been a murderous assault upon him, 
 and such a crime was almost unknown in Cam- 
 borough. It is true that Decatur Street was 
 lonely, that the night was dark and rainy, but 
 no one, even a woman, would have been afraid 
 to make a short cut through that street at any 
 hour. There was a hospital in Camborough, 
 and thither Farris was conveyed. Surgical ex- 
 amination revealed the fact that the man had 
 been struck almost on the exact top •f the 
 head with some heavy object, and in such a 
 way as to make a circular fracture in his skull 
 nearly two inches in diameter, breaking both 
 plates of the skull and pressing the detached 
 piece of bone against the brain, thus causing 
 insensibility. 
 
 The terrible blow which had occasioned 
 this fracture had evidently been given for the 
 purpose of killing the man, and there could 
 be no idea of robbery connected with the case. 
 Farris's valise, which he had carried in his 
 
154 8TRU0K BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 hand, was found unopened by his side. He 
 had money in his pocket and his silver watch 
 was undisturbed. All the surgical talent of 
 the town was gathered together at the hospital, 
 and, although the wound was considered a 
 most serious one, it was thought possible that 
 the man's life might be saved. 
 
 For the greater part of the night this mur- 
 derous business in Camborough was discussed, 
 and early the next morning I went to the 
 sheriff's office, where I found a number of the 
 town officers and lawyers of the place. Of 
 course they were all talking about the terrible 
 assault on Farris. He was still alive and an 
 operation had been performed, but the doctors 
 were not at all certain of the result. The small 
 police force of the town had been busy nearly 
 all night, but they had nothing to report. 
 
 Upon one point everybody was agreed, and 
 this was that the assault was very nearly re- 
 lated to the Kefford will case. Here was a man 
 who had come to town for the purpose of testi- 
 fying in that case. Someone had wished to 
 prevent him from testifying, and had struck 
 him down. This seemed plain enough, but 
 beyond, all was dark and mystery. Of course 
 it was natural to think of Doctor Latimer in 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 155 
 
 connection with the matter. He was a party 
 to the will case, and, moreover, people did not 
 like him; but two citizens who had been sent 
 out to the Institution soon after the crime had 
 been discovered, ostensibly to give the news 
 to the superintendent, but really to find out if 
 he were there, had found him in bed and had 
 greatly shocked him by the account of the 
 assault upon Farris. They also discovered, by 
 adroit remarks to the attendants, that the doc- 
 tor had been at home all the evening. 
 
 When the doctor came to town, early the 
 next morning, everybody could see that the 
 unfortunate affair had had a great effect upon 
 him. He did not hesitate to say that if Far- 
 ris did not recover his case would be lost. 
 Without the testimony of that witness it 
 would be impossible to prove the validity of 
 Mcholas Kefford's will. Everything in re- 
 gard to himself, the true legatee of Nicholas 
 Kefford, had depended upon Reuben Farris. 
 
 A great deal of detective work was now be- 
 gun in the town by amateurs as well as lawyers. 
 The wound in Farris's head was a very peculiar 
 one. Probably it had been inflicted with some 
 heavy instrument, such as a hammer, but it 
 was found that it would not be easy, with even 
 
166 8TBUCK BY A BOOMEBANO 
 
 a very large hammer, to make such a fracture 
 in the skull of a man. The indented portion of 
 bone had been forced down so evenly, no part 
 of its circular edge having descended deeper 
 than any other part, that it was certain that 
 the handle of the weapon which inflicted it 
 must have been in nearly a horizontal position. 
 Now, a man standing on the ground and strik- 
 ing the head of another man as tall as Reuben 
 Farris could not hold a hammer in that po- 
 sition. Many experiments with hammers 
 proved that such an instrument, wielded by a 
 person of ordinary height, would strike the 
 second person's skull with the edge of its lower 
 surface nearest to the handle. To strike the 
 top of a man's head with the bottom surface 
 of the hammer-head held perfectly horizontal 
 would be difiicult, and would prevent the full 
 force of the blow. It was evident, therefore, 
 that the man who had struck Farris with a 
 hammer must have stood higher than his vic- 
 tim. 
 
 This conclusion led to further investigation ; 
 was there anything in Decatur Street, near 
 the place of the assault, on which the person 
 who struck Farris could have stood at a suffi- 
 cient height to make a horizontal blow ? Such 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 157 
 
 a place was soon found. Decatur Street at tlie 
 place where the assault had occurred ran at the 
 back of a large building three stories high, 
 which contained offices of lawyers and busi- 
 ness men. The back windows on the first floor 
 of this building were about four feet from 
 the ground. If one of these were open, it 
 might be possible for a man with a hammer 
 in his hand to reach out into the street and 
 strike a horizontal blow upon the head of an- 
 other man upon the sidewalk. Such a win- 
 dow directly overlooked the scene of the as- 
 sault, and the two men who nearly stumbled 
 over the body of Farris were now quite certain 
 that when they made the terrible discovery 
 this window was open, because one of them, 
 in looking about to call for assistance, had 
 shouted into it. Everything was dark inside, 
 but he thought someone might hear him. 
 This window was in the back office of Mr. 
 Archibald Kefford. 
 
 When this stage of the investigation had 
 been reached, it made me perfectly furious to 
 see how people looked at each other and said 
 nothing. But I did not say anything; I would 
 remain silent forever rather than even hint 
 at the diabolical idea which seemed to come 
 into other people's minds. 
 
158 STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 
 
 I went that morning to Mr. Kefford's office, 
 but lie was not there. Then I went across the 
 street to a carpenter's shop and borrowed a 
 hammer, the largest one I could find. With 
 this I repaired to Mr. KefFord's back room. 
 The window was open, for the weather was 
 warm. I leaned out with the hammer in my 
 hand and I found that it would have been very 
 difficult for me to reach, with the head of the 
 hammer, the head of a man walking on the 
 sidewalk. An iron railing about two feet from 
 the wall of the building separated it from the 
 sidewalk, and unless the man assaulted should 
 stand up close to that railing, a person at the 
 window could not reach him with a hammer. 
 Farris had not been found close to the railing, 
 he had been found in the middle of the side- 
 walk. 
 
 I summoned several persons and proved, by 
 experiments which I made myself and which 
 I urged them to make, that if any ruffian had 
 made his way into Mr. Kefford's back office, 
 he could not, even with the largest hammer, 
 have struck a passer-by on the top of the head. 
 I insisted that the notion that Farris had been 
 struck from that window was so utterly pre- 
 posterous and absurd that it ought to be im- 
 mediately abandoned. 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 159 
 
 Before that night, however, I discovered 
 that a good many people were saying that it 
 was a very strange coincidence that the man 
 Farris should have been struck down under 
 the very window of a person whose interests 
 might have been very greatly advanced by 
 the death of said Farris. The more people 
 thought about it, the plainer it was to see that 
 if the only surviving witness to the signature 
 of the will should not be able to swear he 
 saw Nicholas Kefford sign it, the will would 
 be considered invalid, and the property would 
 go to the natural heirs of the testator. 
 
 Some days passed on. Farris remained in- 
 sensible, often delirious, and in a precarious 
 condition. E"atalie wondered at the effect this 
 occurrence had had upon me. She believed 
 that lawyers thought a great deal more about 
 such things than did other people, and she 
 was sorry for it. She did not think lawyers 
 should allow their lives to be darkened by 
 events which concerned only other people. 
 She had not heard of the notions and the sup- 
 positions connected with the window of her 
 father's back office. 
 
 Mr. Kefford did not publicly insist, as Lati- 
 mer had done, that the death of this witness 
 
160 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 would have a disastrous effect upon his in- 
 terests, for it would not be the impulse of a 
 humane man to make that feature of the affair 
 prominent. This reticence regarding the con- 
 sequences of the affair was commented upon 
 by several persons who thought that silence in 
 such a case showed an effort to conceal a cer- 
 tain satisfaction in the disability of Farris to 
 give testimony. It is wonderful how people 
 whose minds are not naturally evil will, in 
 cases like this, pick at this little thing and that 
 little thing, thinking that by so doing they 
 will expose depravity in spots where it was not 
 supposed to exist. 
 
 On the morning after I had made my ex- 
 periments with the hammer from the window 
 of Mr. Kefford's office, Mr. Shallcross was 
 walking from his home to his office, and on the 
 way he met a man named Hatch. Hatch was 
 a poor man who lived on the edge of the town, 
 and he was now proceeding in the direction 
 of his home, carrying upon his shoulder a car- 
 penter's adze. 
 
 " Good-morning, Hatch; are you going to 
 build a house? " said Mr. Shallcross. 
 
 " Oh, no," replied the other, stopping, '^ I 
 haven't got so far as that yet. All the im- 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 161 
 
 provement I'm plannin' for this season is a 
 new step for mj back door, and I've got a 
 log up there that I'm going to hew square. 
 That's the cheapest way of makin' a step when 
 you've got the log. I've just been up to Mr. 
 Kefford's to borrow his adze." 
 
 " Mr. Kefford's! " said Shallcross. " What 
 is he doing with an adze ? " 
 
 " Oh, he's got a regular carpenter's shop 
 in his yard," said Hatch, " and I often go up 
 there to borrow his tools. It's a lot cheaper 
 than buyin' 'em." 
 
 " For all that," said Shallcross, taking the 
 adze from the man and looking at it, " I should 
 think it would pay you to keep tools like this. 
 You would make up the cost by saving time." 
 
 " But I haven't got the cost, and I have got 
 the time," said Hatch, smiling good-humored- 
 ly. " There's where the difference comes in." 
 
 As the two spoke, Mr. Shallcross carefully 
 examined the adze. On one end of its large 
 iron head was a curved blade, while the other 
 was shaped like a hammer. The striking sur- 
 face of the hammer-end was round and meas- 
 ured about two inches in diameter. Making a 
 mental calculation of the length of the handle, 
 he thought it was a little over three feet. 
 
162 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 " There is some sense in wliat you say, 
 Hatch," said Mr. Shallcross, returning the tool. 
 " Anyway, you get a doorstep for nothing." 
 
 As soon as Mr. Shallcross reached his office, 
 which was in the same building as that of Mr. 
 Kefford, he went into his back room and 
 opened his window, which looked out upon 
 Decatur Street. Then from some umbrellas 
 and canes which stood in the corner he se- 
 lected a walking-stick a little over three feet 
 long, and with a large, heavy head. Stepping 
 to the open window Mr. Shallcross put his arm 
 out of it, holding the cane by its lower end, 
 and found that he could easily extend the head 
 of the stick to the middle of the sidewalk. It 
 would require a strong arm to handle an adze 
 in this way, but Mr. Shallcross believed that 
 a man meditating murder and standing at a 
 window expecting the approach of his intended 
 victim, who would be likely to make this short 
 cut from the station, would be so excited as to 
 be fully able to strike such a blow as that which 
 felled Reuben Farris to the ground. 
 
 In the matter of the will, Mr. Kefford was 
 the client of Mr. Shallcross. Moreover they 
 were very good friends, and it could not be 
 supposed that the latter gentleman would rush 
 
STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 163 
 
 into the office of the first named and explain 
 to him his suppositions and experiments re- 
 garding the adze, but he did speak of them to 
 some people; his conscience would not allow 
 him to keep silent, and — why this should have 
 been I could not imagine — I was one of those 
 persons. 
 
 When Mr. Shallcross had spoken to me of 
 what he had done, and of what he felt bound 
 to suspect, I became exceedingly angry. It 
 seemed to me that people — even the kindest 
 and most honorable — were racking their brains 
 to make horrors out of trifles. I concealed my 
 feelings as well as I could, for I did not wish 
 to quarrel; but with the intent to prove to Mr. 
 Shallcross that the blow he had summoned out 
 of the regions of his imagination could not 
 have been made with an adze, I went to a hard- 
 ware store. There I found that the adze heads 
 were sold separately from the handles, and 
 while I was looking at some of the former I 
 noticed that their hammer-ends had square 
 surfaces. I looked at others and others; the 
 hammer-ends were all square. Then I asked 
 the dealer if he had any with round hammer- 
 ends, to which he replied that they were not 
 made in that way. 
 
164 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 At another place where they sold hardware 
 I examined adze heads; their hammer-ends 
 were square. I went into a carpenter's shop 
 and talked to the man about putting up some 
 shelves in my office. While we were speak- 
 ing, my eyes rambled about in search of adzes. 
 I saw one; its hammer end was square. 
 
 I did not return to Mr. Shallcross's office. 
 Depressed, instead of encouraged, I went to 
 my own. From what I had seen of adzes and 
 from what I knew of the length of their han- 
 dles, I could not but believe that a strong man 
 could reach out of the window and strike a fall- 
 ing blow with one. It was certain that Mr. 
 Archibald Keif ord owned an adze the hammer- 
 end of which had a round surface about two 
 inches in diameter, and which was unlike any 
 other in the town. For an hour, at least, I 
 sat and thought. To suspect the father of 
 IsTatalie of a murderous assault was impossible 
 for me, but it was plain as daylight that other 
 people were doing that thing. The conse- 
 quence of their suspicions would be terrible, 
 would be awful beyond comprehension, if Reu- 
 ben Farris should die ! 
 
 In the case of his assault it was not prob- 
 able that I would be asked to take part in any 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 165 
 
 way, but in it I determined to take part. I 
 would devote myself entirely and wholly, by 
 night and by day, with mind and body, even 
 with money if necessary, to the discovery of 
 the assassin of Keuben Farris and to the re- 
 moval of every suspicion from the father of 
 ^Natalie. I knew as well as I knew anything 
 that these two objects were the same. 
 
 The business of a detective is fascinating 
 to a great many people, and it had always been 
 so to me, but now it possessed an interest which 
 overshadowed every other earthly purpose. 
 Apart from my desire to further the ends of 
 justice, I was going to enter the field in de- 
 fence of the future of l^atalie, in defence of 
 my own future. If unjust fate crushed her 
 father, it would, through her, crush me. She 
 might never know it, but I should be crushed. 
 I rose to my feet and swore that I would find 
 the man who had committed the dastardly 
 crime. 
 
 In planning my search for the assassin, my 
 mind naturally inclined to the direction of 
 Doctor Latimer, but reason soon told me this 
 was foolish. The man had been at home in 
 Satbury during the whole of the night of the 
 assault. But he might have employed some 
 
166 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 one to do the deed! This, to my mind, was 
 the most natural aspect of the case. 
 
 As a probable instrument of Latimer's vil- 
 lainy, I thought of the man Hatch. It would 
 have been a good scheme for Hatch to station 
 himself in the back office of Mr. Kefford, 
 into which he could easily have climbed from 
 outside, and it would have been very prudent 
 for him to supply himself with a peculiar adze 
 belonging to Mr. Kefford. Of course he would 
 have returned it after he had used it, so if an 
 immediate search were made it would have 
 been found in Mr. Kefford's possession. But 
 I also considered that a little later, Latimer 
 might have thought it wise to prevent Mr. Kef- 
 ford from concealing this adze and to have it 
 removed to Hatch's house, where it would be 
 kept ready to produce in case Mr. Kefford 
 should be brought to trial for the assault upon 
 Farris. 
 
 That afternoon I walked out to Hatch's 
 house. He was not at home, but in the back- 
 yard there was a log, one side partly hewn, and 
 by it stood the adze which he had borrowed. 
 I went to it; I examined it; I measured the 
 diameter of its hammer-head. Mr. Shallcross 
 had been correct — the diameter was about two 
 inches. 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 167 
 
 I stood and looked at the adze. The thought 
 came into my mind that perhaps it would be 
 a good thing to take it and hurl it into a creek 
 which ran near by, to do anything to hide it 
 and get rid of it. But a moment's reflection 
 told me that this would be foolish, and in the 
 next moment an incident made me under- 
 stand that it would be impossible. A man 
 dressed in ordinary clothes, but whose face was 
 familiar to me as a policeman, approached me 
 and carelessly remarked that he supposed I 
 had come out to look at the adze. The lawyers 
 had been talking a good deal about it, he said, 
 and he had been sent out there to keep an eye 
 on it. 
 
 " There is nobody at home, now," said he, 
 " but I shall stay around here, keepin' out of 
 sight, and watch for anybody who comes to 
 talk about it. I guess there will be somebody 
 or other who will take enough interest in that 
 adze to come soon and see Hatch about it; at 
 least, that is the opinion in town." 
 
 I made some casual remarks about the ad- 
 visability of keeping an eye upon everything 
 that might possibly be connected with the case, 
 but I said nothing which might help anyone 
 who had suspicions of Hatch. If he had any- 
 
168 STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 
 
 thing to do with the assault, I wanted to be 
 the man to find it out and fix the crime upon 
 him. I spoke as if I thought the adze of little 
 importance, and soon left the place. 
 
 I continued my walk for a little distance 
 and then crossed the creek by a bridge, in order 
 that I might return to town through the woods. 
 On the bridge was a boy, fishing. From my 
 early youth I had been fond of fishing, and I 
 stopped to watch him. The stream was quite 
 deep here and he was fishing for catfish, which 
 swim near the bottom. 
 
 Presently he felt a bite and gave a jerk. 
 Then he began to haul up his line. 
 
 " I guess I've got one,'' said he. 
 
 " From the way you pull up," I remarked, 
 " it must be a pretty big fish." 
 
 "Don't know about that," said the boy; 
 " I've got to pull this line hard whether any- 
 thing is on or not." And as he said this the 
 end of his line came up above the water and 
 he swung it onto the bridge. Fast to the hook 
 was a little catfish seven or eight inches long. 
 
 " You see," said the boy, " why it is a pretty 
 heavy line to pull up." 
 
 The boy took off his fish, and I stooped and 
 examined the fishing-tackle, which lay on the 
 floor of the bridge. 
 
8TRUGK BY A BOOMERANG 169 
 
 "Where did you buy this?'' I asked the 
 boy, who was putting his fish upon a string 
 with a few others. 
 
 " I didn't buy it," he said; " I found it." 
 
 "Where? "I asked. 
 
 " In a gutter," said he. 
 
 I asked a few more questions and then I 
 said: " I'd like to fish; will you sell me your 
 line? I'll give you fifty cents for it." The 
 boy looked at me, astonished. If I had said ten 
 cents he would probably have thought it a 
 good offer. 
 
 " All right," said he, " you can have it for 
 that." 
 
 I handed him a half dollar, and then, ap- 
 parently afraid that I might reconsider the 
 bargain, he said that he guessed he had bet- 
 ter hurry home if he wanted to get his 
 fish cooked that day, and he forthwith de- 
 parted. 
 
 I stood upon the bridge, seeing nothing that 
 was about me, but with my brain filled with a 
 tumultuous crowd of ideas which seemed in- 
 tent upon driving out my reason and my senses. 
 These ideas soon formed themselves into a reg- 
 ular sequence with a horrible and awful con- 
 clusion which chilled me as if I had been sud- 
 denly turned into ice. 
 
170 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 I now knew that my work as a detective had 
 suddenly come to an end. I had succeeded in 
 my search for the man who had stricken Reu- 
 ben Farris to the earth, who, perhaps, had 
 murdered him. 
 
 That man was no other than myself. 
 
 n. 
 
 Motionless, I stood upon the bridge, hold- 
 ing in my hand the fishing-tackle I had 
 purchased from the boy, still that awful pro- 
 cession passing through my brain, always end- 
 ing with the figure of Reuben Farris stretched 
 on his bed in the hospital. My mind was 
 stunned. I seemed to have lost the power of 
 thinking; I was merely the prey of thoughts 
 which came to me unbidden and relentless. 
 
 Suddenly I heard a rustling sound; I 
 started, frightened; it was but a bird flyinrj: 
 out of a bush, but it startled me into my senses. 
 I knew I was frightened. Quickly I cut the 
 leaden sinker from the fishing-line and threw 
 the latter with its hooks into the water. Then 
 with the sinker in my hand, and my hand in 
 my pocket, I walked toward the town. 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMEBANO 171 
 
 !N^o chain of events could be clearer or bet- 
 ter defined tban those which led from me to 
 the man in the hospital. I had always been 
 fond of fishing, and before I came to Cam- 
 borongh I used to fish a good deal for perch in 
 the Delaware Kiver, using a very peculiar 
 tackle called a bow line or dipsy line. This 
 apparatus, which was intended to catch several 
 fish at once, was lowered to the sandy bars 
 frequented by perch, by means of a leaden 
 sinker, generally called a dipsy lead, very 
 heavy and of conical form, its broad base en- 
 abling it to rest upright upon the bottom. I 
 did not use a bow line, but among my effects I 
 had found a dipsy lead which for some time 
 had done service in my office as a paper weight. 
 
 On the evening of August 21st I had been 
 sitting in my office, which was on the third 
 floor of the building in which the rooms of Mr. 
 Kefford were situated. I was not in a pleasant 
 humor; my mind was irritated, and it an- 
 noyed me to think that it was so. I had been 
 more deeply touched by the manner in which 
 I had been ignored in the matter of Nicholas 
 Kefford's will than I had supposed. With the 
 Kefford family and with everyone else, I had 
 endeavored to treat the matter as if it were 
 
172 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 quite natural that I should not be retained or 
 consulted regarding the affair; but when I 
 found myself alone in my office, I could not 
 treat it in that way. I was very much vexed 
 and piqued. 
 
 Suddenly my cogitations were broken in 
 upon by the lugubrious wail of a cat in the 
 street below me. This sound was a disagree- 
 able one to me at all times, but in my present 
 state of mind it enraged me. I seized the first 
 heavy object which came to hand — which hap- 
 pened to be the dipsy lead — and rushing to 
 the open window I looked out. There I saw 
 in the darkness below a light-colored object 
 moving on the sidewalk. Instantly I hurled 
 my dipsy lead at it with all my strength. I 
 heard a thud, but whether my missile had hit 
 its object or had merely struck the sidewalk, 
 which in this back street was not paved, but 
 covered with gravel, I did not know, nor did I 
 care. I could not see into the darkness, and if 
 I had driven the cat away I was satisfied. I 
 returned to my table and my thoughts, and 
 soon afterward went out. 
 
 Not until I had stood on the bridge by the 
 side of the boy, gazing with astonishment at 
 the heavy lead which was attached to his little 
 
STRUOK BY A BOOMERANG 173 
 
 line, and which I knew to be my own as soon 
 as my eyes fell upon it (for I had moulded it 
 myself, after a fashion which suited me), had 
 I remembered what had occurred in my office 
 on that fatal evening; but when the boy had 
 told me that he had found this dipsy lead in a 
 gutter, and when, upon further questioning, he 
 said that it was in a gutter in Decatur Street, 
 just back of the office buildings, and that he 
 had found it on the day after what he called 
 " the Farris murder,^' I had remembered 
 everything. 
 
 Reuben Farris had worn a light-colored felt 
 hat, and when I had looked out into the dark- 
 ness below my window I had seen nothing but 
 this hat moving beneath me. At this hat I 
 had hurled my dipsy lead, and it had struck 
 Farris fair on the top of the head, the broad, 
 flat bottom of the leaden cone coming hori- 
 zontally downward because it was the heaviest 
 part of the sinker. It had broken through the 
 skull of the unfortunate man, forcing down- 
 ward not only a circular piece of the skull but 
 that part of the hat with which it came in con- 
 tact. As I had noticed when examining the 
 hat, the impression of the heavy object with 
 which Farris had been struck down was well 
 
174 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANa 
 
 marked. The lead had rolled off into the gut- 
 ter, where the boy had found it the next day. 
 
 I reached the town and hurried to my office, 
 fortunately meeting no one. I went into the 
 building by a back way, and as I passed the 
 place where Farris had fallen, I shuddered aa 
 if I had seen the accusing blood from the 
 wound of a corpse. 
 
 The first thing I did when I reached my 
 room was to measure the lower surface of the 
 dipsy lead. It was exactly one inch and seven- 
 eighths in diameter. This, allowing for a 
 thickness of felt all around the bottom edge 
 of the lead, would probably make a fracture 
 two inches wide. With Mr. Kefford's adze 
 the circular fracture would have been some- 
 what larger. Every link in my chain of events 
 was perfect. 
 
 The dipsy lead still in my hand, I sat in 
 my room and asked myself what I was to do 
 now. My first impulse after measuring the 
 lead had been to hurry to the court-house and 
 tell the sheriff exactly what had happened; to 
 free the father of Natalie from all suspicion, 
 and to show that the blood of Reuben Farris 
 was on my hands — innocent hands as I had 
 always supposed them to be. 
 
STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 175 
 
 But the remembrance of the words used by 
 the boj made me hesitate. If this should be 
 murder, if Reuben Farris should now be dead, 
 or should die, what then? 
 
 What I had done was a piece of criminal and 
 unpardonable carelessness, followed by the 
 most terrible injury to a fellow-man. If the 
 case should be regarded in that light by the 
 authorities, I ought to be willing to suffer any 
 punishment which the law might inflict, and 
 if this punishment should be in the shape of 
 damages to Farris should he recover, I would 
 most cheerfully accept the penalty and sacri- 
 fice, if necessary, all the property from which 
 I derived my income. 
 
 But if Reuben Farris did not recover, 
 the case would be very different. Then it 
 would be a matter of life and death to me to 
 prove that when I hurled from my window 
 that heavy leaden missile, I thought I was 
 throwing it at a cat, and not at the head of a 
 man. It was generally believed that the as- 
 sailant of Farris had been waiting for him at 
 an open window, knowing that he would prob- 
 ably come along Decatur Street. Why should 
 not I have been waiting for him at an open 
 window far above him and safe from observa- 
 
176 STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 
 
 tion ? Everybody knew that I had a great in- 
 terest in the Kefford will case, and conse- 
 quently in the appearance or non-appearance 
 of the man who had been sent for to testify 
 in that case. I had frequently discussed 
 the matter with my acquaintances in the law 
 and out of it, and I did so the more zealously 
 because by avoiding the subject I might have 
 led persons to suppose that my feelings were 
 hurt. It was known, too, that I was paying 
 attentions to Miss Kefford, and that I was a 
 warm friend of the family; and, in fact, the 
 more I thought of it, the more plainly it 
 seemed to me that it might reasonably be sus- 
 pected that I might have been actuated by a 
 very strong desire that Farris should not tes- 
 tify regarding the Kefford will. If he should 
 swear that he had witnessed the will, the 
 fortune of the dead Kefford was lost to his 
 relatives. There were chances that he might 
 so swear, and I was known to be a young man 
 of quick temper. 
 
 Why should not the story of the cat ap- 
 pear absurd and ridiculous? What man of 
 average sense would stand at a third-story 
 window on a rainy night, when footsteps could 
 scarcely be heard, and when it was so dark that 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 177 
 
 people on the sidewalk could not be plainly 
 discerned, and hurl more than a pound of lead 
 at something which might possibly be a cat? 
 What reason had I to expect that I should be 
 able to convince a court that I was a silly fool 
 and not an intending murderer? 
 
 When my thoughts had gone thus far, I 
 put the dipsy lead in a drawer, which I locked, 
 and then I hurried to the hospital. I had been 
 there before, and had shown, I hoped, a credit- 
 able interest in the unfortunate man, and now 
 I tried hard to calm myself down into the ap- 
 pearance of one influenced by such creditable 
 interest and nothing more. It might have 
 been better for me to have stayed away from 
 the hospital, for when I was told that, although 
 the operation had been considered successful, 
 the patient was still in an insensible condition, 
 with vitality so low that at any moment he 
 might cease to breathe, I feared that I showed 
 an agitation scarcely less than that which 
 would have been produced by the news of the 
 dangerous condition of a loved relative. It 
 might well be asked why, under ordinary cir- 
 cumstances, I should be so affected by the 
 danger of a person with whom I was not ac- 
 quainted. 
 
178 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 All that night I considered from every pos- 
 sible point of view my terrifying situation. 
 E'ew reasons for suspicions of me constantly 
 cropped up. If I had accidentally struck a 
 man senseless, why should I have waited five 
 days before I announced the fact? Why 
 should I have allowed one of the best men in 
 town, a man whose son-in-law I hoped to be, 
 to rest so long under the suspicion of a foul 
 crime? Why should I wait until I should see 
 whether the man died or not, and whether Mr. 
 Kefford was likely to get into serious trouble, 
 before I came forward with this trumped-up 
 story of a cat? 
 
 And there was Natalie ! If she had by this 
 time found out that suspicion was gathering 
 around her father, what would she say when I 
 told her that I had waited five days before 
 avowing myself to be the culprit? If she be- 
 lieved I had entirely forgotten what I had 
 done, then it would almost be as bad as if she 
 did not believe. A lawyer whose business it 
 is to discover criminating facts, but whose 
 judgment and memory are so frail as to make 
 him overlook the all-important facts in such 
 a case, must be almost as despicable as a man 
 who commits a crime and lies about it ! 
 
STRUCK BT A BOOMERANG 179 
 
 I became indignant at fate. Why should I 
 lose everything worth having in this world? 
 Why should I give up my love, my prospects, 
 my life, because I had committed a careless 
 fault? Why should I suffer the terrible pun- 
 ishments which might follow the avowal of my 
 part in this tragedy, of which tragedy, at the 
 time it was committed, I was absolutely ig- 
 norant ? 
 
 In the town of Camborough, in fact in the 
 whole world, there was no one who could help 
 me answer these questions. If I told my se- 
 cret to anyone, I would have no right to ask 
 him to keep it a secret, and he would have no 
 right to do so. How I cursed myself for the 
 egregious vanity which had urged me to push 
 myself into this affair! Of course it was a 
 good motive which prompted me to give all 
 possible assistance in the search for a criminal 
 and to clear a good man from suspicion, but 
 that had not been all my motive. I had 
 wanted to show Camborough what I could do 
 by myself. I had wanted to produce the crim- 
 inal, and now that I had found him I was 
 afraid to produce him. If I had kept in my 
 proper place no one would have ever known 
 that I had done the deed, for I should not have 
 
180 STRUCK BY A BOOMEBANQ 
 
 suspected it myself. It was as if a native Aus- 
 tralian had proudly hurled a boomerang at an 
 enemy and the murderous missile had re- 
 turned, striking him fair in the forehead. 
 
 I had reached the point, now, when I con- 
 sidered only myself. The thought that my 
 avowal would relieve Mr. Kefford of suspicion 
 grew of less and less importance. I said to 
 myself that there was really nothing positive 
 to connect him with the crime, fie might 
 suffer, but not as I should suffer. I could not 
 make up my mind to shatter my life. 
 
 I rose in the morning without having de- 
 cided whether I would continue to live among 
 the citizens of Camborough as a free and re- 
 spectable man, or whether I would deliver 
 myself into the hands of the law for a crime 
 of which I knew I was not truly guilty. I 
 was sitting in my office that morning about 
 nine o'clock when my friend, Craig Wilson, 
 came in. He was a young lawyer about my 
 age, but he had been longer in the profession, 
 and had had some experience. Wilson had 
 scarcely seated himself when he exclaimed: 
 
 " Old boy, you are not looking well ! Have 
 you been reading all night, studying up wills 
 and assassinations? I think you are putting 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 181 
 
 too much of jour nerve power into this busi- 
 ness. Everybody knows you are interested, 
 and that is all right, but there is such a thing 
 as going too far, even in a good cause. You 
 want a rest. What do you say to going out 
 fishing this afternoon? " 
 
 " Fishing ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes," said Wilson. " I had an idea you 
 were going into that line again. I know you 
 used to be a great fisherman, and Billy Saun- 
 ders, the son of our gardener, told me that yes- 
 terday you bought a fishing-line of him and 
 paid him some fabulous price — a dollar or two 
 I think he said — for one of his old lines. That 
 looked to me like a bad attack of fishing fever, 
 and my opinion is that it is the sort of disease 
 that would do you good. Shall we start out 
 after luncheon? " 
 
 " No," said I, " I cannot possibly do it; it 
 will be utterly out of the question." I think 
 I said something about an engagement, but I 
 do not remember. My mind was entirely oc- 
 cupied by a new fear — a fear that this crime 
 might be fixed upon me without my confessing 
 it. The boy would be a witness to prove an 
 extraordinary desire on my part to possess my- 
 self of the missile with which Farris had been 
 
182 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 struck. I did not want to talk, but I must say 
 something. 
 
 " Is there any news," said I, " about — the 
 man in the hospital? " 
 
 " No good news," replied Wilson. " In fact 
 there doesn't seem to be anything good about 
 this unfortunate affair, and I must admit it 
 has an effect on me as well as on yourself, al- 
 though you have much more reason to take 
 it roughly than I have. I stopped at the hos- 
 pital late last night and learned that Farris had 
 had a very bad turn. At one time they 
 thought he was dead, but he picked up a little 
 as if his life was doing its best to stick to him. 
 It would be very bad if he should die, for, be- 
 tween us, things are looking very shady re- 
 garding Kefford. Of course the evidence 
 against him is very slight, but it is all the evi- 
 dence there is against anybody. I am very 
 much afraid, very much indeed, that if the 
 man dies it will be absolutely necessary to take 
 Mr. Kefford into custody." 
 
 " Never ! " I exclaimed, springing to my 
 feet. " He is as innocent as a babe ; and the 
 thing was not done with an adze." 
 
 I was on the point of saying more, but I 
 restrained myself. This was not the place to 
 tell my story. 
 
STRUOK BY A BOOMEBANO 183 
 
 ^' Cool yourself down, my boy," said Wil- 
 son, also rising; " it is all right for you to 
 think that way, and I give you credit for it. 
 I know you have been making experiments 
 with hammers and things, and I know how you 
 feel toward that family; but don't get your- 
 self excited. That will do nobody any good." 
 
 When Wilson left me my mind was made 
 up. Every suspicion must instantly be cleared 
 from Natalie's father. I took the dipsy lead 
 from the drawer and put it into my pocket. 
 Then I arranged some of the papers in my 
 desk, which I closed and locked ; I put in order 
 the things on my table; I closed the window 
 and went out of the office, locking the door 
 behind me. I might never see that room 
 again. 
 
 When I reached the street I started to- 
 ward the court-house, but I stopped; I could 
 not do that just yet. I must see ^Natalie first. 
 It was impossible for me to tell my story until 
 I had seen her once again. I did not intend to 
 tell her anything; I had no right to shock 
 her with the terrible words which I must say. 
 If she had been engaged to me things would 
 have been different ; but alas ! I was the only 
 one engaged. But I must see her; there was 
 
184 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 work before me which would admit of no de- 
 lay except to see her once again. Everything 
 must bend to that. 
 
 I could not have called upon Natalie at a 
 more auspicious time; her father was at his 
 office, and her mother and sisters were out. If 
 my situation had been different, I believe I 
 should have proposed to her that morning. 
 We had a shaded piazza to ourselves; she was 
 more charming, apparently more tender in 
 manner, than I had ever seen her. If it had 
 not been for this weight upon my soul, I know 
 I should have proposed to her; but between 
 me and E^atalie now stood, solemn and inflex- 
 ible, my knowledge that I was an object for 
 the action of criminal law. l^o matter how 
 the crime might be considered, I was that ob- 
 ject. Being such, I could not talk to her of 
 love. 
 
 I spoke to her, indeed, of very little. In 
 fact I think she must have wondered why I 
 came at such an unusual hour. I said some 
 things of no importance, and then I listened a 
 little and talked of some other trifles. ^N^atalie 
 seemed to be waiting, as if she expected there 
 was something I would soon say; but she 
 waited in vain. What made it all the worse, 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 185 
 
 SO very much worse, was the feeling, which 
 I could not repress, that if I said the thing she 
 expected me to say, she would be glad to hear 
 it. I rose to leave, having come for nothing, 
 so far as she knew. She must have perceived 
 that something serious affected me, but of 
 course she could not ask me what it was, for 
 why should it not have been that thing which 
 she had expected to hear, but which I appeared 
 to be afraid to say? 
 
 As I took leave of her, I held her hand 
 longer than usual in mine, and I could not 
 help pressing it. I am not sure, but I think 
 there was a slight pressure in return. When 
 I looked at her to say good-by, I think my eyes 
 must have been wet ; I am sure hers were. It 
 was her beautiful sympathy with something 
 unknown, but which affected me, which 
 showed itself unbidden in her eyes. 
 
 I hurried away, and walked resolutely to 
 my fate. On my way to the court-house I 
 became possessed by a singular fear. Mr. Kef- 
 ford lived in the suburbs, at some distance 
 from the centre of the town. I was afraid 
 that something might happen to me, that I 
 might be run over, that something might fall 
 on me, that in some way I might be prevented 
 
186 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 from ever telling my story, and tliat tlie sor- 
 row, the shame, and the misery that were 
 rightfully my own would come upon [N^atalie'a 
 father, and therefore upon her. Sometimes I 
 walked very fast; sometimes I ran. 
 
 When I reached the sheriff^s office I found 
 him there, but he was not alone, as I had hoped. 
 There were, perhaps, half a dozen persons in 
 the room, but this did not deter me; I could 
 not wait until the sheriff was at leisure; I 
 must speak at once; he might be on the point 
 of issuing some terrible order. In fact, as I 
 had entered the building I had almost closed 
 my eyes for fear I should see Mr. Kefford in 
 custody. I stepped up to the little group and 
 boldly broke into the conversation. 
 
 " Mr. Harriman," said I, " you must ex- 
 cuse me for interrupting you, but I have 
 something of the greatest importance to com- 
 municate, which should be brought to your 
 notice at once. It is in the case of Reuben 
 Farris.'^ 
 
 At these words everybody stopped talking 
 and all eyes were fixed upon me. Among the 
 persons present, I perceived Messrs. Shallcrosa 
 & Dorman, Mr. Kefford's lawyers in the will 
 case. I was glad to see them here; I wanted 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMEBANQ 187 
 
 tliem to hear what I had to say. I had not 
 liked the conduct of Mr. Shallcross and wished 
 him to know that Mr. Kefford had a better 
 friend than he was. 
 
 Now that everyone was ready to listen to 
 me, I did not know exactly how to begin, but 
 I felt I must tell a clear story. 
 
 " Gentlemen,'' said I, " I have been for 
 days engaged in the search for the man who 
 committed the assault upon Reuben Farris. I 
 had no commission to make this search, no au- 
 thority in any way, and was actuated solely 
 by my desire — my determination I might say 
 — to remove suspicion from anyone on whom 
 thoughtless and wicked suspicions might rest." 
 
 " Turned detective on your own account, 
 eh?" remarked Mr. Dorman. "We have 
 heard about that. The virtuous Hatch was the 
 last man you shadowed, I believe? " 
 
 I had always disliked Dorman. He was 
 cynical and rude, and my anger had frequently 
 risen against him when I had heard him in 
 court badgering a witness, but he should not 
 badger me. 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir," said I, with a cer- 
 tain severity; " Hatch was not the last man I 
 shadowed. The last man I shadowed was the 
 
188 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 man who did the deed. I have found the cul- 
 prit and I am here to tell the sheriff, and any- 
 one else who may care to hear, who it was who 
 broke the skull of Keuben Farris.'' 
 
 To my utter amazement this statement was 
 greeted with boisterous laughter. 
 
 " You found him, did you ? " cried Dorman. 
 "All alone, by yourself? Didn't you have 
 anybody to help you? " 
 
 And to this insult someone added the jeer: 
 " And what did you do with him after you 
 caught him? Got him outside ? " 
 
 My eyes must have blazed as I stood and 
 confronted that group of men. I could not 
 have imagined that when I came here to tell 
 a story so heart-rending to myself that I 
 should be greeted with ridicule. 
 
 I knew I was regarded as a young man with 
 a very high opinion of himself, and I knew 
 that there were men in the town who would 
 be glad of any chance to put me down and 
 mortify what they were pleased to consider my 
 vanity; but that my present action should have 
 given them their opportunity seemed to me 
 the super-cruelty of fate. More than any con- 
 demnation of my actions which I had reason 
 to expect, I now feared that when I had made 
 
8TRUGK BY A BOOMERANG 189 
 
 my statement somebody would sneeringly say 
 something about a boomerang. For an instant 
 I thought that I would leave the room and let 
 my story remain untold. If I did not tell it, 
 it could never be known. But I peremptorily 
 banished this idea. 
 
 ^^ Gentlemen/' I said, " you may laugh if 
 you please, but I would like to say, without 
 interruption, what I came here to say. I 
 know who it is who struck Farris to the 
 ground. I did it myself." 
 
 These words created the most sudden sensa- 
 tion: every face became serious, every eye 
 was fixed upon me in amazement, and not a 
 sneer, a comment, or even a word, interrupted 
 my story as I told it rapidly and clearly. In 
 conclusion I took the dipsy lead from my 
 pocket and handed it to the sheriff. 
 
 " This," I said, " is the missile with which 
 Farris was struck. The bottom of it, you will 
 see, with something added for the thickness of 
 the felt of his hat, is exactly the measurement 
 of the fracture in his skull. The only round- 
 headed adze in town would have broken out a 
 large piece. 
 
 " ]S[ow, then, I have set the whole of this 
 dreadful affair before you from beginning to 
 
190 STRUCK BY A BOOMEBANG 
 
 end, and you can see plainly that no one had 
 anything to do with it but myself. As to my- 
 self, I have nothing at all to say. What I did 
 was an accident without intent of evil, but it 
 was followed by such awful consequences — 
 how awful I do not know — that I deserve se- 
 vere penalties and am ready to submit to them. 
 
 " But if what I say in regard to the inno- 
 cence of my intentions should be doubted; if 
 it should be believed that I really wanted to 
 kill the man ; if the charge should be brought 
 against me that I waited so long before mak- 
 ing my confession because I hoped to find 
 some scent which would put justice off my 
 track, and that I did not tell what I had done 
 until danger to another absolutely forced me 
 to do it, and if the man should die and I should 
 be held liable for his murder, still I have noth- 
 ing to say, and shall submit to whatever may 
 happen. I did not come here on my own ac- 
 count ; I came solely to right another man. I 
 have cut loose from everything which gives 
 me an interest in life, and I put myself into 
 the hands of the law; then if anyone chooses 
 to laugh at me for doing that, he can do it, 
 and I shall say nothing. '^ 
 
 For a few moments not a word was said 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 191 
 
 in that room. Several persons were looking 
 with great interest at the dipsy lead which was 
 passing from hand to hand; then Mr. Shall- 
 cross stood up and addressed me. 
 
 " My young friend/' said he, " may I ask 
 where you have been this morning? " 
 
 This question enraged me. Was I t(.t meet 
 with nothing but ridicule and insult? Did 
 this man think that I had been dissipating, 
 and had concocted this story under the influ- 
 ence of drink? It seemed to me as if his ques- 
 tion implied such a suspicion. What business 
 was it of his where I had been? I was about 
 to refuse to answer, but conquered the im- 
 pulse. 
 
 " I have been in my office," I said, the 
 words almost sticking in my throat, " and — 
 in one other place." 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Shallcross, " it appears 
 that you have not heard that this morning, 
 about ten o'clock, Reuben Farris recovered 
 from his delirium, became conscious and sen- 
 sible, and told who assaulted him. That man 
 was Doctor Latimer; he has been arrested and 
 is now in jail." 
 
 I stood stunned and aghast. I saw before 
 me Mr. Shallcross with a beaming face and a 
 
192 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 hand outstretched; I saw other hands and 
 other faces; they all seemed coming toward 
 me. Suddenly some great tension within me 
 seemed to give way; the room rocked. I 
 think I sat down, or perhaps I fell. 
 
 When I recovered my senses I was sitting 
 in an armchair and I perceived the smell of 
 whiskey. It came from a glass held toward 
 me by Mr. Dorman. 
 
 '' Take some of that," he said; " it will 
 stiffen you up." 
 
 It would have been impossible for me to 
 imagine before that hour that men, ordinary, 
 common men, some of them rough-mannered, 
 all of them men who took no interest in my 
 affairs, some of them men who did not like me, 
 and not one of whom I had ever thought of as 
 a friend, should now gather around me and 
 speak as those men spoke. It astonished me 
 as much as anything else that had happened 
 that morning. Mr. Shallcross held me by the 
 hand while he spoke to me, but it was Mr. Dor- 
 man who had the greatest influence upon me. 
 It was he who slapped me on the shoulder and 
 spoke of the good stuff that was in me. He 
 was generally rough in speech, but his man- 
 ner now told me what he meant. Other peo- 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 193 
 
 pie came up, and they shook hands with me, 
 and said things which flushed my cheeks. The 
 news of my fainting in the sheriff's office must 
 have spread all about the court-house. 
 
 I made few answers to what was said to me, 
 scarcely comprehending what I heard, and 
 what I saw about me. I was delighted and ex- 
 cited. Generous, friendly feeling, although I 
 might not know what it meant, could have no 
 other effect upon me after what I had passed 
 through. But my mind was not upon all this; 
 something else engaged it absolutely and 
 wholly; I wanted to get away. I told Mr. 
 Shallcross that it was absolutely necessary for 
 me to attend to something. 
 
 As I left the room other people came to me 
 and shook my hand. One was a hack-driver 
 who had a stand near the court-house; an- 
 other was a man in town taking orders for 
 trees and shrubs, whom I scarcely knew. It 
 was all very strange to me; it seemed as if I 
 had just been elected to an office. 
 
 At the door of the court-house a man came 
 up to me and said that Mr. Kefford wanted to 
 see me at his office. I stopped, I looked at my 
 watch without noticing what time it was, and 
 then, in a hesitating but hurried manner, I said 
 
194 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 that I could not go to Mr. Kefford's just now 
 but would see him very soon. He really must 
 excuse me for a little while, and with that I 
 hastened down the street. I could not go to 
 Mr. Kefford's office, but, as fast as my legs 
 would carry me, I went to his house. 
 
 The one idea which now possessed me was 
 to see ^Natalie. I had left her as if I had been 
 leaving the world behind me, and now I was 
 going to her as i fl had suddenly come to life. 
 Just- outside of the Kefford's front gate I met 
 her. She was on her way to the town. It was 
 a wonderful piece of good fortune. Had I 
 delayed any longer at the court-house, she 
 would have been lost to me in some side street. 
 
 " Come back with me," I exclaimed ; 
 " please come back with me. I have some- 
 thing to say to you." 
 
 She was very much surprised — it was easy 
 to see that — but she turned back without ask- 
 ing questions, and we went into the library. 
 There was no one there, and I closed the door. 
 
 Half out of breath, for I had been running 
 part of the way, I told her all the things that 
 had happened. I did not try to put them in 
 order. I let the things I had to say come in 
 their own order, and the strongest pushed them- 
 
8TRU0K BY A BOOMERANG 195 
 
 selves to the front. Everything I had done, 
 everything I had thought, everything I had 
 suspected, I told her hurriedly and hotly. I 
 had had a feeling that I would keep her father 
 out of the matter, but I could not help speak- 
 ing of him. Allusion after allusion forced 
 itself from me in company with, something 
 else, and so I might as well have told her the 
 whole talk of the town. But this did not seem 
 to affect her more than anything else. She 
 must have heard something of the talk of the 
 town, or suspected it. 
 
 There were tears in her eyes, but they were a 
 different kind of tears from those I had seen 
 before. She said scarcely anything; in fact, 
 I gave her no chance to speak. I feared 
 somebody might interrupt us, and now that I 
 had her here I must tell her everything. She 
 was deeply interested in all I said. Sometimes 
 she flushed a little, and sometimes she turned 
 a little pale, and once or twice she looked at 
 me inquiringly; but still I went on galloping 
 and plunging ahead with my story. E^ot a 
 thought of the night or a deed of the day did 
 I leave out, even when I had to go back for 
 them and bring them up from the very begin- 
 ning. 
 
196 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 Wlien I first perceived how she sympathized 
 with me, and how deep was her interest, I had 
 taken her by the hand, and this she did not ap- 
 pear to notice; as I warmed up with the de- 
 scription of my feelings when the conviction 
 forced itself upon me that I was the man who 
 had done the deed, I took her other hand, and 
 this I continued to hold as I went on. 
 
 When I reached my statement in the 
 sheriff's room, she leaned forward a little and 
 said, 
 
 " And it was for my father! " 
 
 Then it was that I released one of her hands 
 and put my arm around her. Then I kissed 
 her once, twice, I do not know how many 
 times. 
 
 " Yes, it was for your father," I said. I did 
 not attempt to depreciate anything I had done ; 
 I accepted her gratitude just as she evinced 
 it, which she did, not with words, but with her 
 eyes and with the parting of her lips. There 
 is nothing in this world which can give a man 
 such rapture as to press to his heart and to his 
 lips a beautiful woman whose father he has 
 saved — or intended to save, which is the same 
 thing. She asked me to go on and tell her 
 the rest. I told it as quickly and as briefly 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 197 
 
 as I could. It all seemed of such little im- 
 portance that I could not spare the time for it. 
 Suddenly a thought flashed upon me. Here 
 I was holding a beautiful woman to my heart; 
 I was kissing her eyes, her lips, her cheeks ; I 
 was holding one of her hands which tightly 
 clasped my own, and I had never proposed to 
 fieri I had intended to do that before I be- 
 gan my story, so that she might better under- 
 stand it. 
 
 I drew back a little and told her what it 
 was that I had forgotten. She looked into my 
 eyes with a smile. 
 
 " I think we can easily dispense with that," 
 she said. At that moment I felt as if I could 
 dispense with the whole of this rolling globe 
 except that which I held tightly clasped in 
 my arms. 
 
 It was not long after this that her mother 
 came in, not knowing that there was anyone 
 in the room. She was very much surprised to 
 see us, and of course, under the circumstances, 
 everything had to be told to her. I do not 
 mean told as I had told it, for it was Natalie 
 who did most of the telling; and she did it so 
 clearly and put some things in such strong re- 
 lief that all I could do when she finished was 
 
198 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 to ask Mrs. Kefford if site wondered that I had 
 come there and that I had told her daughter 
 everything that was in my soul. 
 
 Mrs. Kefford did not wonder. She cried 
 quietly as if she had heard the news of the 
 death of somebody, but I do not think she 
 grieved; she was a very sensitive woman. 
 
 It was not long after this that Mr. Kefford 
 came home to his two-o'clock dinner. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " he exclaimed, " is this 
 where you are? I have been waiting and wait- 
 ing for you in my office. I did not want to 
 talk to you in the court-house." And with 
 this he began to say things which in my ordi- 
 nary state of mind would have confused and 
 embarrassed me very much; but my soul waa 
 so filled with the daughter that nothing the 
 father could say, be it good or bad, could make 
 very much impression upon me. I hope I 
 was grateful for his gratitude, but I am not 
 sure that I really showed that I was. I am 
 certain, however, that I showed that I was very 
 happy. 
 
 How Mr. Kefford became aware of our en- 
 gagement I do not know. His wife or Xatalie 
 may have taken him aside and informed him of 
 it. At any rate, he seemed to consider it a 
 
STIiUOK BY A BOOMEBANO 199 
 
 matter of course. It was certainly wise in 
 him to do this, and I do not think it would 
 have been of any use for him to consider it in 
 any other way. 
 
 After dinner, Mr. Kefford asked me to go 
 back with him to the court-house; he was 
 anxious to hear if there were any further de- 
 velopments in the Latimer affair. I did not 
 care to go with him, but of course I was 
 obliged to consent. His talk on the way to 
 the court-house was mostly about his daughter, 
 and the manner in which he spoke of her made 
 me love him very much. 
 
 When we reached the court-house we found 
 that there had been developments of great im- 
 portance. Farris had been well enough to 
 make a legal deposition, in which, in addition 
 to what he had said before, he declared, and 
 swore to it before a notary, that he had never 
 witnessed the signature of Mr. Mcholas Kef- 
 ford to a will, that he had never heard of such 
 will during his residence with the old man, 
 and that his signature to any such document 
 must be a forgery. 
 
 When this development was read to Doctor 
 Latimer in the jail, he gave way entirely. He 
 saw that it was of no use for him to try to de- 
 
200 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 fend himself, and that it would be far wiser 
 for him to submit at once, hoping thereby to 
 lighten his penalties. He was tired of strug- 
 gling, he said; his Institution was deeply in 
 debt, and he had failed in every effort, good 
 or bad, which he had made to save it. 
 
 He had been very intimate with old Kefford 
 during the last part of the latter's life. The 
 will which had been found in the desk was an 
 exact copy (excepting certain names) of a will 
 that Latimer had found in that desk. He 
 had written the copy in a back-hand which 
 he was sure would never be taken for his own, 
 and, as I had supposed, was afraid to make any 
 changes in it for fear of fatal errors. He had 
 traced the signature of Mcholas Kefford, and 
 for witnesses had chosen two persons, one of 
 whom was dead, and the other far away, no- 
 body knew where. He had copied the signa- 
 tures of both these from receipts for wages, 
 found in Mr. Kefford's desk. Although the 
 false will was dated a year back, it had been 
 made during the old man's short sickness, and 
 had not been finished very long when he died. 
 
 Naturally Doctor Latimer had been very 
 anxious to see Reuben Farris before anyone 
 else in Camborough should meet him. He 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 201 
 
 had been perfectly willing for him to come 
 on, because what he had to say to the man 
 could not be written and he could not leave 
 the Institution. 
 
 Soon after supper on the day of the ex- 
 pected arrival of Farris, Doctor Latimer 
 remarked to the two assistants who still re- 
 mained with him that he was going into his 
 office to attend to some important accounts, 
 and he did not want to be disturbed. He had 
 frequently told them this before, when he 
 was engaged in his labors upon the will. 
 
 Leaving his office lamp burning, he went 
 into his bedroom, which was on the lower floor, 
 and adjoined the office, and then got out of 
 a window,' and, in the darkness of the stormy 
 night, walked to Camborough and proceeded 
 direct to the railroad station. There, outside 
 in the rain, he waited until Farris arrived. 
 
 The doctor stated his business at once. Ac- 
 companying Farris as he walked from the sta- 
 tion platform, he began by offering him a 
 hundred dollars if he would swear that he had 
 witnessed the will of old Kefford. Farris did 
 not understand this proposition, but when it 
 was explained to him he flatly declined it. 
 Then the doctor increased his offer by de- 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 grees until at last he made it ^yq hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 But Farris would not agree; he would not 
 swear falsely for any money. Then the doctor 
 made him an offer to go away and stay away; 
 that need not trouble his conscience, he would 
 do nothing wrong himself and would not med- 
 dle in the affairs of other people. This made 
 Farris angry and he spoke very sharply to 
 the doctor, who also became angry. 
 
 Farris now walked very fast, wishing to 
 hear no more, and the doctor had some dif- 
 ficulty in keeping up with him. Hurrying 
 behind him and becoming more and more en- 
 raged as he thought of what awaited him when 
 this man should swear to the truth, he was 
 filled with a furious desire to punish the ob- 
 stinate fellow; if he could have knocked him 
 down with his fist he would have done it. 
 
 Suddenly, in the darkness, the doctor's feet 
 struck against something which was heavy 
 and which moved. Instinctively he stooped; 
 he wanted a missile. He picked up the ob- 
 ject, which seemed to be a piece of lead, and, 
 holding it in the palm of his hand with the 
 largest end downward, he ran up behind Far- 
 ris and struck him on the top of the head. 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 203 
 
 Being a tall man, lie dealt tlie blow very fairly. 
 Farris dropped, and the doctor threw the 
 piece of lead into the road. Then he left the 
 spot, and hastened homeward as fast as he 
 could. It was not half-past ten o'clock when 
 he got into his bedroom window, and, putting 
 on his slippers and dressing-gown, he went out 
 of his office door, and entered the room where 
 his two men were busy with their usual game 
 of cards. Remarking that his eyes were tired 
 and that he should go to bed, although it was 
 rather early for him, he left them, and when 
 the messengers from Camborough came to in- 
 quire about him, his assistants were positively 
 certain that he had been at home all the even- 
 ing and had gone to bed early. 
 
 Doctor Latimer had been greatly troubled 
 about what he had done; he had feared that 
 Farris would die and he would be a murderer, 
 and when the patient recovered there was per- 
 haps no one in Camborough who was so truly 
 glad as Doctor Latimer. He had a con- 
 science of a peculiar sort, and, now that it had 
 ceased to prod him on the subject of taking 
 the man's life, the doctor gave it a holiday, 
 and in his relief he cared little what might hap- 
 pen next. 
 
204 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 The next morning Craig Wilson found me 
 in my office; I was there because it was too 
 early to go anywhere else. 
 
 " IN^ow, then," said he, " since you have 
 proved that you are such a shockingly bad 
 shot that you can't even hit a cat under your 
 window, I think you would better give up 
 that sort of thing and take to fishing again. 
 It suits you better. Suppose we go this after- 
 noon; we won't take any of those murderous 
 dipsy leads you seem to fancy, but we'll have 
 decent tackle." 
 
 I instantly declared I could not go fish- 
 ing with him that day. I had something I 
 must attend to, and really I had not a bit of 
 time for that sort of thing. 
 
 " Come, come, now," said Wilson, " that 
 won't do. She's going to the Culture Club 
 this afternoon and my sister has made an en- 
 gagement to go with her, so you might as well 
 come along with me. We are all trying to 
 do as much as we can for you, considering 
 how you must feel about missing the cat, and 
 the best thing I can do for you is to take you 
 fishing." 
 
 Keluctantly I consented to accompany Wil- 
 son. I would have preferred to stay at my 
 
STRUCK BY A BOOMERANa 205 
 
 office and write a letter, but considering that 
 I could saj some things a great deal better than 
 I could write them, and not wishing to make 
 myself a subject for raillery — I had had 
 enough of that — I agreed to go with him. 
 
 " By the way," said Wilson, as he was about 
 to leave, " we have been discussing the matter 
 of your dipsy lead and the cat. In the first 
 place, you must have attempted the poor creat- 
 ure's life some time before Farris came along, 
 for Latimer says that when he threw away the 
 weapon you so kindly provided him with, he 
 glanced up at this building and there was no 
 light in any window ; and, in the second place, 
 you could not have struck anybody fair and 
 evenly on the top of the head with the broad 
 end of that dipsy. We have tried experi- 
 ments with it, and when it is thrown from 
 any height it always turns over and over and 
 comes point end down, so that if you had hit 
 Farris with the thing, you would have killed 
 him dead, and, what is more, if you had struck 
 the cat you might not have killed it — for that 
 is no easy thing — but you would have hurt it 
 dreadfully and have made yourself an object 
 for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty 
 to Animals. But, fortunately, you are a 
 
206 STRUCK BY A BOOMERANG 
 
 bad shot, and no wounded cat has been 
 found." 
 
 This was Craig Wilson's way of comfort- 
 ing people who had been under a nervous 
 strain; but I needed no comfort, and we had 
 a good time together that afternoon. 
 
 It is years since all this happened. As there 
 was no true will signed by Nicholas Kefford, 
 the original of the forgery having been de- 
 stroyed by Doctor Latimer, the old man's 
 property came to Mr. Archibald Kefford and 
 Mrs. Crown. I married E'atalie, and it was 
 not long before we were living in a house of 
 our own. I have had very good success in 
 the law, but for some years I never pressed an 
 investigation, never endeavored to find out the 
 origin of some evil action, without stopping 
 to consider whether it might not be possible 
 that under some peculiar circumstances, and 
 in some way I did not understand at the 
 time, I might not be the man I was looking 
 for, and that the legal blow I was about to 
 deliver might not be turned, boomerang-like, 
 upon mj astonished self. 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
 EARLY one summer morning there sailed 
 into the harbor of Yakonsk, a seaport on 
 the far northwestern edge of the Pacific Ocean, 
 the three-masted schooner Molly Crenshaw, of 
 Gloucester, Mass. 
 
 The skipper of this vessel, Ezra Budrack 
 by name, of domestic proclivities, had with 
 him his family, consisting of his wife and 
 daughter. The Molly Crenshaw was the 
 Budrack home. In this good craft, which 
 Ezra owned, they had sailed to many ports, 
 sometimes on one errand and sometimes on 
 another. They were now entering the har- 
 bor of Yakonsk, hoping to do a little trading. 
 They had visited the town before, and the 
 Commandant of the Russian garrison sta- 
 tioned there was glad to see them. 
 
 That night, before the moon had set, there 
 steamed into the harbor a Spanish merchant 
 vessel, the Reina de la Plata, of about seven 
 
210 THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
 hundred tons. She dropped anchor near the 
 entrance to the roadstead, and earlj the next 
 morning one of her boats started for the shore. 
 In the stern sat Matias Romino, captain of 
 the steamer. As the ship's boat neared the 
 Molly Crenshaw, a clear, strong voice rang 
 out from the schooner's deck: 
 
 " Hello, el Capitan ! I am glad to see you. 
 I made up my mind that was your vessel the 
 moment my eyes fell upon her, before sun- 
 rise." 
 
 The captain in the stern of the little boat 
 gave a start. He was a handsome, well-made 
 man, to whom much of his youth remained. 
 His hair was black and his eyes were bright. 
 
 "Hello! " he cried, and ordered his crew 
 to make for the schooner. 
 
 In a few minutes the two men were shak- 
 ing hands on the deck of the Molly Cren- 
 shaw. They were well acquainted, having 
 frequently met at ports where they had been 
 trading, and they liked each other. El Cap- 
 itan, as Ezra always called him, spoke English 
 with an accent, now scarcely noticed by the 
 Budrack family, and almost the first thing he 
 did was to ask after the skipper's wife and 
 daughter, and to hope that they were very 
 well. 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 211 
 
 "Thej are all right," said Ezra, "and 
 they'll be on deck in no time, when I tell 
 them you're here." 
 
 Drusilla Budrack was a pretty girl and a 
 good one. She had dark eyes, which she owed 
 to her mother, and an embrowned complex- 
 ion, which had been given her by the sea air. 
 She was very glad to see el Capitan, although 
 she did not say as much about it as her par- 
 ents did. As for the Spaniard, he was de- 
 lighted. For more than two years he had 
 been in love with Drusilla. He had been in 
 port with her for weeks at a time, and he 
 had never met a Spanish woman who suited 
 him so well. He longed to follow the exam- 
 ple of the good Ezra Budrack, and sail the 
 seas with a wife on board his ship. All these 
 things were known to the Budracks, but noth- 
 ing definite had been done in the matter. 
 
 As the Budracks and el Capitan were talk- 
 ing pleasantly together, relating their experi- 
 ences since they had last met, they perceived 
 a little gunboat approaching from the town. 
 
 " The Commandant treats you better than 
 he treated me," said the skipper to the Span- 
 iard; " I had to go in to see him and report 
 my arrival, but he is coming to meet you." 
 
212 THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
 " Perhaps lie will do some fault-finding with 
 me," replied el Capitan, with a smile, " be- 
 cause I did not go direct to pay my respects 
 instead of stopping here." 
 
 In a few minutes the gunboat lay to near 
 by, a small boat put out from her, and the 
 Kussian Commandant boarded the Molly 
 Crenshaw. He was a stout man, with a coun- 
 tenance which was mostly hair, but he had a 
 pleasant smile. He shook hands with el Cap- 
 itan and the skipper, and bowed to the ladies. 
 
 " It astonishes me," said he to the two cap- 
 tains, " to see you consort in such a friendly 
 way. Do you not know that your nations are 
 at war? " 
 
 The three Budracks and el Capitan started 
 in simultaneous amazement. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the skipper. " I don't 
 understand you! You said nothing of this to 
 me yesterday." 
 
 " IN"©," said the Eussian; "I supposed, of 
 course, you knew all about it, and when I was 
 going to refer to the subject I was inter- 
 rupted." 
 
 " I never heard of it ! " cried Ezra. " It 
 was not known at the port where I last 
 stopped." 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 213 
 
 " !N'o! '' el Capitan cried, " I have had no 
 news like this ! War ! I cannot believe it." 
 
 Then the Commandant drew from his 
 pocket a despatch he had received from his 
 government, and read it. It was a fair ac- 
 count of the war between the United States 
 and Spain. 
 
 The two women began to cry. The skip- 
 per walked to and fro across the deck in great 
 agitation. 
 
 " It is amazing! " he exclaimed. " They 
 must have been fighting for a long time. And 
 I knew nothing about it ! " 
 
 El Capitan stood up, tall, erect, and almost 
 pale. His eyes were fixed upon Drusilla. 
 
 " My country at war with the Americans! " 
 he groaned. 
 
 " Yes," said the Commandant; " and she 
 has been getting the worst of it, too." 
 
 This further information did not affect el 
 Capitan. The fact that his people were fight- 
 ing Drusilla's people was all the bad news his 
 soul could recognize at that moment. 
 
 " You are enemies," said the Russian, " and 
 your ships and their officers and crews should 
 be kept apart. It is my duty to keep you 
 apart!" 
 
214 TEE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 "We are not enemies! " cried el Capitan. 
 " Ko war can make us enemies." 
 
 Mrs. Budrack looked at him with tearful 
 gratitude. By nature she was afraid of all 
 Spaniards, but she had learned to make an ex- 
 ception of el Capitan, and if he continued 
 their friend what could there be to fear? Dru- 
 silla's eyes were downcast; she trembled with 
 emotion, and if they had been alone she would 
 have thanked her lover with a shake of the 
 hand. 
 
 The skipper was not a sentimental person, 
 and he was not in love with any Spanish 
 woman; he had patriotic principles, and they 
 came to the front. 
 
 " You are right, Mr. Commandant," said 
 he ; " if the United States is at war with Spain, 
 and if the two countries are now fighting as 
 hard as they can, of course el Capitan is my 
 enemy and I am his. There is no other way 
 of looking at it. It is hard lines for me, for 
 I've liked him ever since I first knew him, and 
 my wife and daughter will be very much cut 
 up, I know, but there's no getting around it. 
 He is my enemy and I am his." 
 
 "But what of all that? " cried el Capitan. 
 ^^ A country does not mean every single per- 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 215 
 
 son in it. In every nation there is always some 
 one who is different from the rest. I cannot 
 be an enemy to my friends." 
 
 " But you will have to be, el Capitan/' said 
 the skipper. " You are a good man, and I 
 have a high respect for you, but your coun- 
 try has made you my enemy. You have noth- 
 ing to say about it, and you can't help it.'' 
 
 " That is right," said the Commandant. 
 " The rulers of your nations have made you 
 enemies. You must submit. If one of you 
 commanded a man-of-war it would be his duty 
 to capture the other one as a prize. If both 
 ships were war vessels, it would be your duty 
 to fight. Your governments have arranged all 
 that." 
 
 At the mention of fighting Mrs. Budrack 
 went below. She could hear no more. Dru- 
 silla, however, remained, silent, pale, with 
 eager eyes. 
 
 The skipper knitted his brows and reflected. 
 " Look here, Mr. Commandant," he said; 
 " my vessel is liable to be taken as a prize by 
 the Spanish, is she? " 
 
 "By a Spanish war vessel, yes," was the 
 answer. 
 
 ** But if there are no war vessels in the 
 
216 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 case," said Ezra, " it seems to me that enemies 
 should fight. If my vessel is liable to be taken 
 as a prize, so is that Spanish vessel. How is 
 that, according to your constitution? '' 
 
 " My country has no constitution,'^ said the 
 Commandant; "her rulers decide according 
 to circumstances.'' 
 
 " Do you sometimes have to decide accord- 
 ing to circumstances? " asked the skipper. 
 
 " When I cannot communicate with my 
 government I sometimes have to do so," an- 
 swered the Kussian. 
 
 " Well, then," said Ezra, " how do you de- 
 cide now? " 
 
 " I must think," said the Commandant. 
 
 During this conversation el Capitan was 
 silent, but looked very black. To be at war 
 with Drusilla's country — it was a horrible fate. 
 
 " I have thought this," said the Comman- 
 dant, presently : "I will have nothing to do 
 with either of you, except to preserve strict 
 neutrality. This is the order of my govern- 
 ment. You are enemies, and at any moment 
 you may begin to fight. I have nothing to do 
 with that, but in this harbor you cannot fight. 
 The laws of neutrality will not permit it." 
 
 The countenance of el Capitan began to 
 
THE 8KIPPEB AND EL OAPITAN 217 
 
 brighten. Suddenly it beamed. " I will 
 fight/' he cried. " I am ready to do battle 
 for the honor of my country. Since there is 
 no war vessel here to uphold her honor, the 
 Reina de la Plata will do it. I will sail out- 
 side the harbor together with the Molly Cren- 
 shaw, and I will fight her." 
 
 El Capitan was a good man, but a wily 
 Spaniard; his vessel was larger than the 
 schooner, he carried more men. If he could 
 capture the Molly Crenshaw he would capture 
 Drusilla. Then let the war go on; what mat- 
 tered it to him! He would have her, and 
 everything else could be settled afterward. 
 
 " IN'o," said the Commandant, " you can- 
 not sail out of this harbor with this vessel. 
 You are enemies, and the laws of neutrality 
 demand that one of you must remain here for 
 twenty-four hours after the other has de- 
 parted." 
 
 Drusilla wept, and went below to join her 
 mother. If in this time of war the Molly 
 Crenshaw should sail away in one direction 
 and the Reina de la Plata in another, when 
 would she ever see el Capitan again? 
 
 The Spaniard approached the skipper and 
 extended his hand. " I will go outside," he 
 
218 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 said, " and wait there twenty-four hours until 
 you come. Then I will fight you." 
 
 " Very good," said Ezra, giving his hand a 
 hearty shake; " you may count on me." 
 
 " I do not think you have a right to fight," 
 said the Commandant to Ezra, when el Capi- 
 tan had departed for his steamer. " You are 
 both merchant-men." 
 
 " But we are each liable to be taken as a 
 prize," said Ezra, " and I think that makes 
 it square." 
 
 The Commandant shook his head. " Even 
 if my country had a constitution," he said, " I 
 do not know that it could settle that point. 
 But I shall take no responsibility; all I can do 
 is to preserve strict neutrality." 
 
 The next morning the good schooner Molly 
 Crenshaw, with a fine breeze, sailed out of the 
 harbor of Yakonsk, and she had scarcely 
 reached the open sea before she saw, a few 
 miles away, the smoking funnel of the Reina 
 de la Plata. The Spanish vessel immediately 
 changed her course and made directly for the 
 Molly Crenshaw. 
 
 El Capitan was in high spirits. He had had 
 twenty-four hours in which to reflect upon the 
 state of affairs, and to construct a plan of bat- 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 219 
 
 tie, and he was entirely satisfied with the 
 scheme he had worked out. As has been said 
 before, he was so much stronger than his new 
 enemy that he thought there would be very 
 little trouble in capturing her, even if her 
 skipper and her crew should make some show 
 of resistance. His steamer rode much higher 
 out of the water than did the schooner, and if 
 he should lie alongside of the latter, which he 
 could easily do, she, depending entirely upon 
 the wind, while he possessed all the advantages 
 afforded by steam, his men could easily slip 
 down on her deck and quell any disorder which 
 might be occasioned by his action. 
 
 Then, as soon as the schooner's company 
 had surrendered and good-fellowship and 
 order had been restored, he would take Skip- 
 per Budrack and his family on board his own 
 steamer, where they would have the very best 
 accommodations. He would put a prize crew 
 on the Molly Crenshaw, and the two ships 
 would sail away to a Spanish port. On this 
 voyage, which naturally would be somewhat 
 long, he would settle matters with Drusilla 
 and her parents. He had no doubt that he 
 could do so. He believed he knew a good deal 
 concerning the young lady's state of mind, and 
 
220 THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 her parents would not be in the position to 
 resist his entreaties which they would have oc- 
 cupied had they been sailing in their own ves- 
 sel, and able, whenever they chose, to put 
 thousands of miles between him and the ob- 
 ject of his hopes — of his life. 
 
 When he finally arrived at a Spanish port, 
 and if the prize he had captured should be 
 formally adjudicated to him, he would then 
 make the Molly Crenshaw a wedding present 
 to Drusilla. He would take command of the 
 schooner, and his parents-in-law should sail 
 with Drusilla and himself, if they so chose, 
 or, if they liked it better, they should spend 
 their declining years in any pleasant spot they 
 might select, receiving regularly a portion of 
 the profits of the voyages which he and Dru- 
 silla would make to various ports of the world. 
 His face beaming with happy anticipations, 
 he leaned over the rail as the steamer rapidly 
 approached the schooner, which was now lying 
 to. 
 
 Before the two vessels were within hailing 
 distance, Skipper Ezra Budrack displayed a 
 large flag of truce. 
 
 '^ You needn't do that ! " roared el Capitan, 
 through his speaking-trumpet. " I am not 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 221 
 
 going to fight you without notice. I make for 
 you only that I may plan the battle with you." 
 
 ^N'ow the two vessels lay, gently rolling, side 
 by side, as near as safety would permit. 
 
 " Before we begin," shouted Ezra to el 
 Capitan, " I want you to look at this pistol," 
 and with this he held up a large revolver; 
 " this is the only shooting-iron on board this 
 vessel, and, as I don't want any accidents or 
 unnecessary bloodshed, I am going to throw it 
 into the sea. Look now! Down she goes! " 
 And with that the skipper hurled the pistol 
 into the water below him with such force that 
 it must have made a hole in the bottom of the 
 sea. " ^ow, then, el Capitan," cried he, 
 " what are you going to do about fire-arms? " 
 
 The Spanish captain disappeared, but in a 
 few moments he returned, bearing a large car- 
 bine. " This is the only gun we've got," said 
 he, " and down she goes ! " With these words 
 he pitched it into the sea. 
 
 " That's all right," said the skipper; " and 
 now, whenever you're ready to come on, we're 
 ready to meet you. Of course, as you're a 
 steamer, you'll have to do the coming on." 
 
 " I'll do that," said el Capitan; '' but before 
 we begin, I, too, have something to say. I 
 
222 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 shall subdue your men and capture your ship 
 with as little violence as possible, but still there 
 will be a scuffle, and there may be blows and a 
 good deal of general disorder. That is to be 
 expected, and I do not think either of us can 
 prevent it. Therefore, I beg of you, my dear 
 skipper, that you will keep your wife and 
 daughter safely shut up in your cabin. I shall 
 tell my men not to go aft if they can help it, 
 and on no account to go below, and as I shall 
 be on board I shall see that my orders are 
 obeyed. Of course I shall allow no injury to 
 come to the two ladies or yourself, but I do 
 not wish that they shall even be frightened. 
 I hope, if it can be so managed, that the whole 
 affair may be transacted so quietly and prompt- 
 ly that it will seem to them like an ordinary 
 nautical manoeuvre." 
 
 " His English is wonderfully improved," 
 thought Skipper Budrack; " when first I knew 
 him he could not express himself like that." 
 Then, with a gradually expanding grin, he 
 called out to el Capitan : " I am much obliged 
 to you for your kind consideration for my fam- 
 ily, but you must not suppose that I would 
 take my wife and daughter on board my ves- 
 sel when I was going out for a fight. I left 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 223 
 
 Mrs. Budrack and Drusilla in the town. They 
 are staying with the Commandant's family, 
 who gave them a very kind invitation." 
 
 I^ow el Capitan stamped his feet and swore 
 many Spanish oaths. Every plan he had made 
 had been swept away as if it had been struck 
 by a typhoon. If he could not capture Dru- 
 silla, what would a victory be worth to him? 
 He was mad with rage and disappointment. 
 All the time he had been talking his eyes 
 had been scanning the cabin windows in the 
 hope of seeing a fair face or a waving hand- 
 kerchief. It was a vile trick the skipper had 
 played on him. He had had such kind 
 thoughts; he had planned to be so magnani- 
 mous; he would have taken the schooner so 
 gently that the most tender heart would not 
 have been made to flutter. But now every- 
 thing was different. He would not say an- 
 other word to that deceiving skipper. But 
 suddenly an idea came into his fiery brain. 
 " I will run down his schooner," he exclaimed. 
 " I will utterly destroy it. I will sink it to 
 the bottom. But I will be merciful; I will 
 save his life; I will save all their lives if I 
 can. But his vessel will be gone. Then I 
 will take him on board my steamer, and I will 
 
224: THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 keep him here. His wife and daughter must 
 come to him; they cannot be left in Yakonsk, 
 and there is no other ship in which they can 
 get away. On the voyage I will plead my 
 cause; I will make everything all right. I 
 shall have time enough to do that before we 
 reach port. Things will be not so good as they 
 would be otherwise; I shall have no schooner 
 to present to my wife on her wedding day, 
 and I may not be able to do much for Skipper 
 Budrack and his wife, but I will do what I 
 can; they will be my parents-in-law." 
 
 He gave orders that the Keina de la Plata 
 should be again put about and headed for the 
 schooner under full steam. He put men in 
 the bow with life-preservers, and two boats, 
 with their crews, were made ready to be 
 dropped from the davits the moment the two 
 vessels should strike. 
 
 On board the Molly Crenshaw there was 
 great stir of preparation. The skipper knew 
 that if there was to be a fight at all the steamer 
 must make the attack, and there could be no 
 doubt that her best method of doing so would 
 be to ram her antagonist. Therefore, he had 
 spent the greater part of the preceding day 
 in preparing for that contingency. His men 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 225 
 
 were now placed in suitable positions on tlie 
 deck, some armed witli marline-spikes, some 
 with capstan-bars, and a few with axes. 
 
 As the Spanish steamer came rapidly on, 
 some of the men in her bow perceived some- 
 thing on the schooner which they had not 
 noticed before. She appeared to have four 
 masts, although one of them was much shorter 
 than the others. They spoke of the matter to 
 each other, but did not understand it. 
 
 Among the preparations the skipper had 
 made for the approaching fight was this appar- 
 ent fourth mast, which stood about midships, 
 and consisted of a very large and strong spare 
 spar. Its small end had been sharpened and 
 shod with iron, while the other rested in a 
 heavy socket, in which it could be moved at 
 pleasure by means of blocks and tackle. 
 
 On came the Spanish steamer, heading di- 
 rectly for the Molly Crenshaw, and aiming to 
 strike her about midships. On she came until 
 the bright eyes of el Capitan could be seen 
 shining over the rail. On she came, with the 
 men in the bow ready to throw over their life- 
 preservers, and the men in the boats ready 
 to drop to the water and pull for any un- 
 fortunate American sailors who might rise to 
 
226 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 the surface after their vessel had sunk. On 
 she came until she was within a few hundred 
 feet of the schooner. Then, suddenly, down 
 dropped the big spar into an almost horizontal 
 position; it was pulled a little forward in obe- 
 dience to a quick command from the skipper, 
 and pointed directly at the steamer's starboard 
 bow. 
 
 El Capitan saw his danger and shouted to 
 the steersman — but it was too late; the Reina 
 de la Plata could not change her course, but 
 went straight on. As the schooner was so 
 much lower than the steamer, the iron-shod 
 spar struck the latter about half-way between 
 her water-line and her rail. It crashed 
 through her sides and ran for nearly half its 
 length into the vessel. 
 
 The force of the concussion was so great that 
 both vessels went dashing through the water 
 for a considerable distance, and if the spar had 
 not held her in position the schooner would 
 have been capsized, even if she had received 
 no other damage. As they moved together 
 they naturally swung toward each other, so 
 that when the motion had nearly ceased they 
 were lying side by side, the spar having ac- 
 commodated itself to this change in position 
 
CRASHED THROUGH HER SIDES AND RAN FOR NEARLY HALF ITS 
 LENGTH INTO THE VESSEL." 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 227 
 
 by ripping a larger hole in tlie wooden side of 
 the steamer. 
 
 ;N^ow there was a great yell on board the 
 Eeina de la Plata, and many heads appeared 
 above her rail. 
 
 " Stand by to repel boarders! " shouted the 
 skipper. But before any of his men could 
 gather around him a dozen or more Spaniards 
 were on lii^ deck; they jumped, they slid 
 down ropes, they dropped like cats. Capstan- 
 bars and marline-spikes were raised high in 
 the air, but not one of them was brought down 
 upon the heads of the enemy, for the skipper 
 and his men were astonished to see that the 
 Spaniards were unarmed. As soon as they 
 reached the deck of the schooner they took off 
 their caps and, bowing very low, approached 
 the skipper. More Spaniards dropped down 
 from the larger vessel, and some of them, who 
 could speak English, explained why they came. 
 
 They were glad to be made prisoners ; they 
 did not wish to fight the Americans; all they 
 asked was good and sufficient food and the 
 payment of their wages, which were now a 
 long time in arrears. These things were not 
 to be obtained on the Spanish ship, and they 
 were delighted to have an opportunity to sur- 
 render. 
 
228 THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 When his men had left him, el Capitan, dis- 
 heartened and with downcast visage, slowly 
 let himself down from the side of his vessel. 
 He was dressed with unusual care, for he had 
 expected to act on this occasion the part of a 
 conquering hero in the presence of his mistress, 
 and had arrayed himself accordingly. In his 
 earlier days he had been an accomplished 
 horseman as well as a seaman, and as a cavalier 
 garb was more picturesque than that of an 
 officer of a merchant vessel, he wore a broad 
 hat with a feather, a bright-colored sash, and 
 high boots, to which were attached a pair of 
 jingling spurs. He was, perhaps, the only man 
 who had ever fought a marine battle in spurs. 
 
 El Capitan stalked toward the skipper. " I 
 am your prisoner," he said. " I am disgraced. 
 I have lost everything. I have no ship; I 
 have nothing. Now I cannot ask you for your 
 daughter." 
 
 " You are right, there," said the skipper, 
 with a grin; " this isn't the time nor the place 
 for that sort of thing. But what am I to do 
 with all these fellows of yours? I don't want 
 them on board my schooner." 
 
 " Send them back to my ship," said el Cap- 
 itan, in a sombre voice. " Send me back to 
 
x(^ 
 
THE 8KIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 229 
 
 join them, if you please. Cut that spar in 
 two with axes, push away from my poor, 
 wounded craft, and set your sails. The force 
 of the concussion has sent everything on board 
 my ship to starboard, and as soon as you loose 
 yourself from her she will list, she will take 
 in water through that great hole, she will go 
 to the bottom — down to the bottom with me 
 and my men, and that will be the end of us. 
 We will trouble you no more.'' 
 
 " No, sir," said the skipper; " that's not my 
 way of doing business. I have made a prize 
 of your steamer, and I am going to keep her. 
 The hole in her bow can be repaired, and then 
 I shall have a good vessel. I am going to make 
 fast to her bow and stern, and that spar will 
 keep her on an even keel until we get into 
 port and ground or dock her." 
 
 " Have your own way," gloomily replied el 
 Capitan ; " take her into port, exhibit me as a 
 captive at the tail of your chariot. Nothing 
 matters to me. The best thing I can do is to 
 jump overboard." 
 
 "]Slo, sir!" cried the skipper; "you are 
 my prisoner. You belong to me. You have 
 no right to jump overboard. If you should do 
 that you would not be honest. After surren- 
 der it is cowardly to resign or run away." 
 
230 THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
 The Spaniard put his hand upon his heart. 
 " I have nothing left but my honor," he said; 
 " you may trust that.'' 
 
 " ]N"ow, el Capitan," said the skipper, " you 
 can see for yourself that although your ship 
 is my prize I cannot take her into port. She 
 must take me. My sails are no good for that 
 purpose. Tell your engineers and firemen to 
 go on board and get ready to steam into the 
 harbor. You, with your engine, will tow me 
 along, and I, with my spar, will keep you from 
 capsizing. We will make our vessels fast fore 
 and aft, and then we'll get under headway as 
 soon as possible." 
 
 Side by side, like a pair of nautical Siamese 
 twins, the schooner and the steamer slowly ap- 
 proached the harbor of Yakonsk, but before 
 they were in sight of the town they were met 
 by the little gunboat, with the Commandant 
 on board. They lay to and the Russian 
 boarded the schooner. When the situation 
 was explained to him, he was very much inter- 
 ested. 
 
 " I am amazed," said he to the skipper. " I 
 did not suppose you could do this. And now 
 what is your next step? " 
 
 " I want to take my prize into your port," 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 231 
 
 said Ezra, " and have her repaired. Then I'll 
 put a prize crew on board of her, and take her 
 away with me.'' 
 
 " ISTo, sir," said the Commandant; "the 
 laws of neutrality forbid that ! " 
 
 "But what am I to do?" exclaimed the 
 skipper. " If I separate from her she will list 
 to starboard and go down, and if a gale comes 
 up while we are fastened together in this fash- 
 ion we shall both be wrecked." 
 
 " I am very sorry," said the Commandant, 
 " but all I have to do is to observe the laws 
 of neutrality. It is a bad way to capture a 
 vessel, but I cannot help it. The laws of neu- 
 trality must be observed. Only one of the 
 vessels can enter the harbor of Yakonsk." 
 
 El Capitan looked down over the side of his 
 vessel, but said nothing. His heart was heavy, 
 and he took but little interest in what might 
 happen next. 
 
 The skipper was angry, and vehement in 
 his expressions. He had always disliked war, 
 and had accepted it only when it had been 
 thrust upon him ; but at this moment he hated 
 neutrality worse than war, and was willing to 
 accept none of it. 
 
 The Commandant stood in deep thought, 
 
232 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 and brushed his countenance with his hand. 
 " There is one thing you can do/' he said, 
 presently. " Your two vessels can proceed 
 together as near the mouth of the harbor as 
 the laws of neutrality will allow. Then you 
 can set the steamer's crew to work to shift 
 everything movable to the port side, and when 
 you have cut away your spar I think she will 
 be able to steam up to the town, as the sea 
 is tolerably smooth. Then I can set all the 
 ship-carpenters in Yakonsk to work on her. 
 There are a good many of them, you know, 
 for building small vessels is the main industry 
 of our place. And you, Mr. Skipper, can 
 cruise out here until she is repaired, after 
 which she will leave and you can come in and 
 join your wife and daughter." 
 
 " And how long will it take to make the 
 repairs? " impatiently asked the skipper. 
 
 " I will put the carpenters on her as close 
 together as they can work, inside and out, and, 
 from what I can judge of the damage, I think 
 they can have her ready to sail in a week." 
 
 The skipper grumbled savagely, and wished 
 he had not captured the Spaniard, but he made 
 up his mind that he would have to be satisfied 
 with things as they were, and he determined, 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 233 
 
 if he must cruise for a week, to sail for Petri- 
 metkoff, and try to do a little business there. 
 This would occupy just about a week. 
 
 The two vessels moved on toward the har- 
 bor's mouth, the great spar was cut in twain, 
 the Reina de la Plata steamed slowly toward 
 the town, and the Molly Crenshaw set sail for 
 Petrimetkoff. 
 
 It was nine days and twelve hours later 
 when Ezra Budrack's three-masted schooner 
 arrived at the port of Yakonsk. The skipper 
 was very late; he had been detained by un- 
 favorable winds and the exigencies of trade; 
 but, dark as was the night, he entered the har- 
 bor, dropped anchor, and waited for daylight. 
 Then he went ashore, and knocked at the door 
 of the Commandant before any of the family 
 was up. It was not long before that high offi- 
 cial opened the door himself, still wearing hia 
 nightcap. 
 
 " I may be a little early," said the skipper,, 
 " but you must excuse me. You know a man 
 who has not seen his wife and daughter for 
 nearly ten days, and at a time when every- 
 thing is in such an upset condition, is naturally 
 anxious. Can I go to Mrs. Budrack? " 
 
 " Your wife and daughter! " cried the Com- 
 
234 THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 mandant. " They are not here ! They sailed 
 away in the Spanish vessel yesterday after- 
 noon. They were so anxious about you, when 
 you did not return at the time you fixed, that 
 they determined to go to Petrimetkoff and join 
 you. If you had left there they were sure 
 they would meet you on the way.'' 
 
 " Did my wife and daughter hatch up that 
 plan ? " shouted the skipper. " I don't be- 
 lieve a word of it! It was that wretched el 
 Capitan! It is a scheme worthy of a crafty 
 Spaniard ! He wanted to have them on board 
 with him! That is all he cared about! He 
 persuaded them to go; I am as sure of it as 
 if I had been here and heard every word that 
 was said! But I can wait no longer. I must 
 put on every stitch of sail I can carry and go 
 after them. When they find I am not at 
 Petrimetkoff I don't know where he will take 
 them." 
 
 "No, sir!" said the Commandant; "you 
 cannot leave this port until twenty-four hours 
 after they sailed. The laws of neutrality de- 
 mand that you remain in the harbor until five 
 o'clock this afternoon, and as that's the case 
 you might as well come in and take breakfast 
 with us." 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 235 
 
 The skipper expostulated violently, but it 
 was of no use, and he went into the house 
 and took breakfast. 
 
 At about noon, the Commandant and the 
 skipper were standing on the pier of the town, 
 when they saw in the offing the smoke of a 
 steamer. In a few minutes they descried the 
 Eeina de la Plata coming in under full steam. 
 The Commandant gave a great shout. 
 
 " The unprincipled Spaniard ! " he cried. 
 " He knows he has no right to enter this har- 
 bor until he is sure your vessel is not here. 
 I must go and stop him. He must go back 
 and lie outside until the laws of neutrality 
 permit you to go out to him." 
 
 What the skipper then said concerning the 
 laws of neutrality need not be recorded here, 
 but the air quivered with the intensity of his 
 ejaculations. " Make him go back! " he cried. 
 " Do you suppose I am going to let that Span- 
 iard steam away again with my wife and 
 daughter? I shall row out to her, and you 
 can do what you please with your gunboat." 
 Then he shouted for his men, but only one of 
 them was in his boat, which lay at the pier. 
 The others were up in the town. 
 
 The Commandant ran to his gunboat, but 
 
236 THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 steam was not up in that little vessel. He gave 
 his orders and hurried back to the pier to pre- 
 vent the skipper from holding communication 
 with the Spanish vessel. 
 
 " What do you mean? " shouted the angry 
 Ezra, when he saw three soldiers arrive on 
 the pier. " That's my vessel — my property. 
 She's no Spaniard now. And she has my wife 
 and daughter on board." 
 
 " It is my duty/' said the Commandant, 
 " and I can't help it." 
 
 " Duty! " exclaimed the skipper. " If you 
 are so particular about duty, why did you al- 
 low her to lie here for a week to be repaired? 
 Do you call that neutrality? " 
 
 '* I don't call that anything," said the Com- 
 mandant. " I know of no decree issued by 
 my government which would prevent my giv- 
 ing work to the ship-carpenters of this town. 
 As soon as steam is up on my gunboat I shall 
 go out and make that Spaniard turn back. 
 Confound him ! " he continued, " he is coming 
 too far, and he is about to drop anchor." 
 
 " Yes ! " exclaimed the skipper, " and they 
 are making ready to lower a boat. Perhaps 
 my wife and daughter will come ashore." 
 
 " They shall not do it ! " roared the Com- 
 
THE 8KIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 237 
 
 mandant. " There shall be no communica- 
 tion. O that my gunboat were under steam! 
 I would sink that little boat. It is making di- 
 rectly for the pier." 
 
 ^^ You'd better not try that/' cried the skip- 
 per. " That would be a worse breach of neu- 
 trality than anything that has been mentioned 
 yet. But mind you, Mr. Commandant, that 
 steamer does not leave this port until I get my 
 wife and daughter. If I can't hinder it any 
 other way I'll sink my schooner across the 
 mouth of the harbor." 
 
 The Commandant paid very little attention 
 to these words. The boat from the Reina de 
 la Plata was approaching rapidly. El Capitan 
 sat in the stern, and as he came nearer it was 
 seen that his face was beaming. 
 
 "Keep off!" shouted the Commandant. 
 " Don't try to land here, or " 
 
 El Capitan may have been deaf with ex- 
 citement, but, whether this was the case or 
 not, he was standing on the pier in less than 
 a minute after the Commandant had shouted 
 to him. 
 
 " This is intolerable," said the Russian, ad- 
 vancing. " The laws of neutrality forbid 
 communication " 
 
238 THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 
 
 " Down with the laws of neutrality ! '' 
 shouted el Capitan. ^^ I trample them under 
 my feet! I have nothing to do with them! '' 
 
 The countenance of the Commandant 
 bristled with rage. " IN'othing to do with the 
 laws of neutrality? " he yelled. " I will show 
 you " 
 
 " Ha ! " cried el Capitan. " You cannot 
 show me anything. To be neutral there must 
 be enemies; to enforce neutrality there must 
 be war. There is no war, therefore there is 
 no neutrality. Peace has been proclaimed be- 
 tween the Spaniards and the Americans. I 
 have the news. I got this Russian newspaper 
 from a steamer I spoke, bound for Petrimet- 
 koff, and I immediately put back here at full 
 speed, Mr. Budrack, because I wanted the 
 Commandant to know everything in case you 
 should arrive without my sighting you, which 
 you did." 
 
 During this speech the skipper stood 
 amazed. The war ended! Peace! What 
 complications did this news bring with it! 
 He wanted to row out to his wife and daugh- 
 ter, but he must wait and find out how mat- 
 ters stood. The Commandant had been read- 
 ing an account of the peace protocol, and he 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 239 
 
 now translated it into English for the skip- 
 per. 
 
 " Well? '^ said the Commandant, looking at 
 el Capitan. 
 
 " It is well/' said the Spaniard, " very well. 
 There is no war; I am no longer a prisoner. 
 There is no war, and my ship is no longer a 
 prize." 
 
 " Stop there ! '' shouted the skipper. " I 
 don't agree to that." 
 
 " But you must agree," said el Capitan. 
 " Your prize has not been adjudicated to you, 
 and I am sure no court would give it to you 
 now." 
 
 " He is right," said the Commandant. " I 
 am afraid he is right. But tell me this," said 
 he, addressing the skipper: "if that ship is 
 not your prize, who is going to pay the ship- 
 carpenters for her repairs? " 
 
 It was el Capitan who made answer. " I 
 do not know," he said, shaking his head; " but 
 one thing is certain: I ordered no repairs." 
 
 " And I would not have had them made if 
 you had ordered them," said the Commandant. 
 " I do not believe you have any money. I set 
 those carpenters to work because you ordered 
 it, Mr. Budrack." 
 
240 THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 " But if it is not my prize," said the skip- 
 per, " what had I to do with it, then, and what 
 have I to do with it now? " 
 
 " Gentlemen," said el Capitan, " do not let 
 us dispute about who shall pay those wretched 
 carpenters. Do not let us give them a thought 
 when there are so many joyful things to talk 
 about. It is right that you should know, sir," 
 he said, turning to the skipper, " because you 
 are her father. And you, sir," to the Com- 
 mandant, " because you are the chief official 
 of the place, and there may be constitutional 
 laws which would compel you to make some 
 kind of a legal entry." 
 
 " "We have no constitution, as I told you," 
 said the Commandant ; " but we have laws 
 which compel the payment of mechanics." 
 
 " What are you talking about? " cried Ezra 
 to el Capitan. 
 
 " It is this," answered the Spaniard. 
 " When I took your wife and daughter on 
 board the Reina de la Plata I considered their 
 wishes as commands. I was a prisoner; I be- 
 longed to the husband of the one and the 
 father of the other. The steamer was his prop- 
 erty — I remembered my position. I said no 
 word to them of what was in my heart. But 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 241 
 
 this morning, when I heard that I was free, 
 that I stood on the deck of a vessel of which 
 I was commander, then all was changed. I 
 had a right to say what I pleased, and I told 
 your daughter that I loved her. I will not 
 speak of the details, but she accepted me, and 
 my soul immediately floated as bravely as 
 that proud flag of Spain you see upon my 
 vessel." 
 
 " And her mother? " inquired the skipper. 
 "What did she do?" 
 
 " She shed tears," replied el Capitan, " but 
 I am sure they were tears of joy. She said 
 I she did not believe you would allow your 
 
 daughter, sir, to wed an enemy, but she was 
 sure you would not object to an alliance with 
 the subject of a friendly power." 
 
 The skipper made no further remark, but 
 got into his boat and was rowed to the steamer. 
 
 El Capitan, being a man of discretion, did 
 not go to the vessel until half an hour later. 
 The skipper met him at the rail. 
 
 " I have settled the whole matter," said 
 Ezra. " I expected you to marry my daughter 
 because my wife had made up her mind that 
 it should be so. If your ship had been my 
 prize I had intended to sell the Molly Cren- 
 
242 THE SKIPPER AND EL OAPITAN 
 
 shaw, and we would all have sailed on the 
 Reina, because, in these days, a steamer is bet- 
 ter for trading than any three-masted schooner, 
 no matter how good she may be. Things are 
 changed, but I shall still carry out my plan. 
 I shall sell my schooner, and buy the steamer, 
 if your owners will act reasonably about it. 
 And then, of course, I will pay for the repairs, 
 and I suppose I must settle the back wages of 
 the sailors, if I expect to keep them." 
 
 That evening the three Budracks and el 
 Capitan dined with the Commandant and his 
 family. They spent a pleasant evening, and 
 when they had returned to their schooner the 
 skipper and his wife sat up for awhile in their 
 little cabin, to talk over matters and things. 
 
 " This has all turned out very well for Dru- 
 silla and el Capitan," said Mrs. Budrack, " but 
 if we sell the Molly Crenshaw we shall lose a 
 very pleasant home. 
 
 " Yes," said Ezra. " I don't suppose that 
 Spanish steamer can be made to take her 
 place as far as our comfort goes." 
 
 " And it may end," she continued, " in our 
 buying a house on shore, somewhere, and liv- 
 ing there. I don't believe el Capitan will be 
 wanting us to be sailing about with him all 
 the time.'' 
 
THE SKIPPER AND EL CAPITAN 243 
 
 " No," said Ezra, " and I don't believe we 
 would like it, either." 
 
 " The Commandant was in a very good 
 humor to-night," remarked Mrs. Budrack. 
 " He seemed to think it a fine thing for the 
 town that his ship-carpenters had such a good 
 job." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Ezra, " I don't wonder 
 he was pleased; but if I had known I should 
 have to pay for that hole I made in that 
 Spanish vessel, I would not have punched 
 it." 
 
 " And listen to those sailors," said Mrs. 
 Budrack, " over there on the steamer. They 
 are all singing. I expect it's the thought that 
 they are going to get their back-wages that 
 makes them so happy." 
 
 " Yes," said Ezra, somewhat dolefully, 
 " and, from what el Capitan told me this even- 
 ing, some of their wages must be a long time 
 in arrears. It will be a pretty heavy drain on 
 me, but as that's going to be my ship, and as 
 el Capitan is going to be my son-in-law, I sup- 
 pose I've got to pay them, and make things 
 square for him and Drusilla." 
 
 Mrs. Budrack reflected for a moment. 
 " Now, Ezra," said she, " let me tell you 
 
244 TEE SKIPPER AND EL GAPITAN 
 
 something. The next time jou get mixed up 
 in a war I'd advise you to get on the side that's 
 beaten, or else on the side that's bound to pre- 
 serve the laws of neutrality. It doesn't pay to 
 conquer." 
 
COME IN, NEW YEAR" 
 
"COME IN, NEW YEAR" 
 
 IN a fine old country mansion, commodious, 
 somewhat imposing and positively heavy 
 in its style of architecture, resided the Hon. 
 Horace Brunder, now an elderly man, and 
 Mrs. Brunder, his wife. For several years 
 these two had made up the family — a very 
 small family for so large a house. They had 
 no children, and, although they were very good 
 company for each other, they felt as they daily 
 grew older that they could not of themselves 
 make their home as cheerful and as pleasant 
 as they would have it. They felt this the more 
 forcibly because there had been many years 
 when that house was very cheerful and very 
 pleasant. Therefore it was, about six months 
 before this story opens, this all too quiet cou- 
 ple had taken into their home a young girl, 
 Margey Griffith, the niece of Mrs. Brunder 
 and one of a large family of fatherless boys 
 and girls. 
 
 247 
 
248 "COME IN, NEW YEAR'' 
 
 The Hon. Horace had never been fond of 
 children, and at one time in his life it might 
 have been said that he absolutely disliked boys 
 and girls, but now, since he had ceased to go 
 out in all weathers and was feeling a growing 
 dependence on the indoor pleasures of his 
 home, he had agreed with his wife that it 
 would be a good thing to have some young life 
 in the house, and that of all the persons they 
 knew the niece Margey was best adapted to 
 supply the missing and needed element in 
 their household life. 
 
 It had been considered by Margey's family 
 that it was a most fortunate thing that her rich 
 uncle, who did not care for young people, 
 should take her into his house, and for a time 
 the girl herself was very well satisfied with the 
 change from the somewhat contracted subur- 
 ban house and the active bustle of a large fam- 
 ily to the quiet rural beauty of the old man- 
 sion, its garden, its lawn, and its woodland. 
 But as summer passed and as autumn, with its 
 bright-hued foliage, came and went, and as the 
 rigors of winter settled themselves upon the 
 land, Margey often thought of the stirring life 
 which was going on at home, where winter 
 was the liveliest time of the year. Here, when 
 
''OOME m, NEW TEAR'' ^4^ 
 
 the snow was deep, she could not walk much, 
 and, although she sometimes went sleighing, 
 it was not a very exhilarating thing to sit 
 wrapped in furs by the side of her aunt, who 
 seldom spoke when she was out in the frosty 
 air, and who would have been unpleasantly ag- 
 itated if the horses had broken into the fine 
 spanking gait at which Margey would have 
 driven them had she had command of the reins, 
 or even command of the coachman. 
 
 At last Christmas came, but it was a dull 
 time for Margey. There were neighbors in- 
 vited, but they were all elderly people and of 
 a reposeful turn of mind. Margey received 
 several presents, among them a beautiful little 
 watch from her uncle, and, although she had 
 never received anything which could compare 
 with these Christmas gifts, they did not com- 
 pensate her for the loss of the holiday atmos- 
 phere of her home. During the whole day 
 she felt as though she were attending the fu- 
 neral of Santa Claus. 
 
 But on the last day of the year her spirits 
 sank still lower. With her brothers and sisters 
 and the elderly members of the family she had 
 been accustomed ever since she could remem- 
 ber to make a great deal of ISTew Year's Eve, 
 
250 ''COME IN, NEW YEAR'' 
 
 and among the observances which were never 
 omitted was the traditional custom of opening 
 the front door of the house exactly as the clock 
 struck the hour of midnight, in order to let the 
 New Year come in. Then, altogether, young 
 and old, they would shout, as the door swung 
 back: " Come in, E'ew Year! Welcome, New 
 Year! " And when it was considered that the 
 newcomer had really crossed the threshold 
 they would turn to each other, each wishing 
 all a happy New Year and many more to come. 
 This time-honored ceremony was to Margey 
 one of the most pleasant features of the holiday 
 season, for it concerned not only the joys of 
 the moment, but those of happy days to come. 
 
 On this New Year's Eve Margey felt her- 
 self in a truly doleful mood. Her uncle and 
 aunt had gone to their room at ten o'clock, and 
 not one word had they said which indicated 
 that they considered this evening to be in any 
 way different from the ordinary evenings of 
 the year. To Margey this seemed like a sort 
 of domestic sacrilege. If she could have done 
 so, she would have sped away to her home, 
 even if it had been necessary to speed back 
 again before the cock should crow. 
 
 She went to her room not because she 
 
'' OOME IN, NEW TEAR'' 251 
 
 wanted to do so, but because the lights were 
 all put out down stairs; but she did not go to 
 bed. She sat thinking of all the lively scenes 
 that were going on at home. Most likely they 
 were playing charades, but they would be 
 sure to stop them a little before twelve. Her 
 mother and one of the girls would be getting 
 things together for a little supper, for they 
 always began the New Year with something 
 to eat, drink, and be merry over. In this big, 
 old house it would be high-treason to eat be- 
 tween twelve and one o'clock at night. 
 
 The hands of Margey's new watch moved 
 on and on until they pointed to a quarter of 
 twelve, and then the eyes of our young lady 
 opened wider and wider as she sat and gazed 
 at the wall and saw the family at home. She 
 could see them just as well as though they were 
 there. 
 
 "They are all looking at the clock," she 
 said, " watching and waiting and talking. 
 They always begin too soon for fear of being 
 too late. Tom is standing at the front door 
 now, so that nobody shall get ahead of him 
 when the time comes." 
 
 For a few moments she sat as though her 
 eyes were fixed on the energetic Tom, when 
 suddenly she rose to her feet. 
 
262 " OOME IN, NEW TEAR " 
 
 " I'll do it/' she said, " even if I have to 
 do it all bj myself in the dark. I'll go down 
 and let the New Year in." 
 
 Slowly and on tiptoe she descended the soft- 
 ly carpeted staircase. At the landing which 
 overlooked the hall there was a round window, 
 through which came the rays of the full moon, 
 lighting the hall and stairway, so that Margey 
 could see her way without the slightest trou- 
 ble. The big clock was in the shadow, but 
 she knew it was not yet twelve, and, stepping 
 lightly to the great hall door, she went quietly 
 to work to unfasten it. There was a bolt and 
 a chain and a lock. The first slipped back 
 easily and without any noise, and the chain 
 was removed in a moment, but the lock turned 
 hard, and as she forced the big key around 
 she was afraid that there might be a sudden 
 click which would be heard on the floor above. 
 It would be a dreadful thing if her aunt should 
 hear it, for it had been thoroughly impressed 
 on her mind that if that good lady should be 
 suddenly startled nobody could know what 
 might happen. But, although she moved the 
 big key slowly and with much difficulty, she 
 moved it steadily, and finally it went around 
 as far as it would go, without a click. 
 
"COME IN, NEW YEAR'' 263 
 
 The door was unfastened. She turned the 
 knob and stood, holding it firmly, waiting for 
 midnight. Very soon she heard a whirring 
 sound in the big clock on the landing. Then 
 there came the first stroke of twelve, and with 
 that Margej stepped back and opened wide the 
 door. 
 
 " Come in ! " she said, but before she could 
 utter the words " N^ew Year" she stopped sud- 
 denly, for on the portico in front of her she 
 saw a man. The girl was on the point of 
 screaming, but even at this dreadful moment 
 she remembered that if her aunt should be 
 startled nobody could know what might hap- 
 pen, and so she clapped her hand to her mouth. 
 She sprang back, however. She could not 
 help that, and at the same moment the man 
 stepped into the hall. 
 
 " You are right,'' he said in a whisper, and 
 looking at the hand which was still over Mar- 
 gey's mouth. " I understand. I won't make 
 the least noise in the world. Let me shut the 
 door. I can do it very quietly." 
 
 If the cold air which rushed in through 
 the open doorway had frozen Margey as stiff 
 as a statue she could not have been more in- 
 capable of speaking or moving than she was at 
 
254 ** OOME IN, NEW TEAS'* 
 
 that moment. If she had dared to cry for 
 help or tried to run away, she would not have 
 been able to do either. She stood and stared, 
 whiter than the moonlight. The man was re- 
 fastening the door, and as he did so a ray of 
 blessed relief came into the mind of Margey. 
 He had put down on the floor a valise 
 and an umbrella. Surely no burglar, no 
 wicked man of any sort, would go about with 
 a valise and an umbrella, and he seemed to 
 know all about fastening doors without mak- 
 ing a noise. This ray of relief was a very lit- 
 tle ray, but it revived Margey sufliciently to 
 enable her to drop her hand from her mouth. 
 The man now stepped toward the library 
 door, and with one finger on his lip he beck- 
 oned to Margey. She was so astonished at 
 this action that, almost without volition, she 
 followed him. She was so thoroughly fright- 
 ened that she could do nothing herself. She 
 had not even the strength to disobey, but as 
 she stepped into the library she hugged to her 
 heart the thought of the umbrella and the 
 valise. The man took from his pocket a box 
 of matches, and, striking a match, he stepped, 
 without the slightest hesitation, to the corner 
 of the mantel-piece, on which stood a great 
 
" COME IN, NEW YEAR " 255 
 
 candlestick, and lighted the candle. Then he 
 quietly closed the door. 
 
 " I do that/' he said, " because if your aunt 
 should hear our voices and be startled, there 
 is no knowing what might happen." 
 
 " How could he know that ? " Margey asked 
 herself, and a third ray of comfort was added 
 to that furnished by the umbrella and valise. 
 In the light of the candle Margey could see 
 that the man was rather short, very well wrap- 
 ped up, and wore a fur cap, which now, how- 
 ever, he removed, showing a head of reddish 
 brown hair a little curled, and with some 
 streaks of gray on the temples. His face 
 looked as if he had lived out of doors a good 
 deal, in all sorts of weather, but his eyes were 
 bright, and there was a pleasant expression 
 about the mouth, as if he would be glad to 
 laugh if there were anything to laugh at. 
 
 ^' It was very, very good of you," he said, 
 still speaking in an undertone, " to come down 
 and let me in. You must have seen me from 
 your window. I was afraid there was no one 
 awake in the house. I heard you at work at 
 the bolt and the chain, and I knew why you 
 were so slow and so quiet. Of course I can- 
 not be mistaken in supposing you to be Miss 
 Griffith? " 
 
256 " GOME IN, NEW TEAR " 
 
 Now Margey found her voice — that is, a lit- 
 tle of it. " Yes/' she said, " and who, I beg 
 of you, sir — who are you? " 
 
 ^' I am John Brunder, your uncle's brother. 
 Surely you have heard of me ? " 
 
 " A very little," said Margey. 
 
 " And how much, may I ask? " he said, 
 showing some surprise. 
 
 " I never heard you mentioned but once," 
 she replied, " and that was one day when I 
 found Aunt Ellen in one of the bedrooms 
 which I had not seen before, the door having 
 always been locked." 
 
 " Had it a bedstead in it," said he, " with a 
 curved footboard? " 
 
 " Yes, it had," said Margey, more and more 
 relief coming into her mind each moment. 
 
 " And did you notice anything in the way 
 of sporting articles — guns, boxing gloves? " 
 
 " Yes," said Margey. " There were boxing 
 gloves and foils on the wall at the head of the 
 bed and two guns on a rack, and there were 
 some cases in the corner which looked as if 
 they held fishing-rods. I was surprised to see 
 these things, and asked Aunt Ellen to whom 
 they belonged. She said that the room used to 
 be occupied by Uncle Horace's brother John, 
 but that he did not live here now." 
 
"COME IN, NEW TEAR'' 267 
 
 " Is that all she told you? '^ he asked. 
 
 " Every word/' said Margey. 
 
 He gave his head a little nod. " Perhaps 
 it was as well/' he said. " There's no use in 
 raking up disagreeable things before young 
 people. But I am glad to hear that my old 
 room is kept just as it used to be. That's a 
 good sister-in-law of mine, and I hope I may 
 not do a thing to startle her, knowing as I do 
 that no one could tell " 
 
 " What might happen," added Margey, in- 
 voluntarily. 
 
 " But you ought to know all about me," said 
 he. " It will not do for you to be ignorant any 
 longer, especially as you were so good as to 
 come down to let me in." 
 
 " But I didn't," said Margey. " I didn't 
 come down to let you in." 
 
 " Then who, in the name of common sense, 
 did you ask to come in? There was nobody 
 but me on the porch." 
 
 ^^ I opened the door for the ITew Year to 
 come in," said Margey. 
 
 John Brunder stood and looked at her in 
 amazement, and then Margey, who had almost 
 recovered her self-possession, told him all 
 about it. 
 
258 " GOME IN, NEW TEAR " 
 
 " Well, well, well! '' lie exclaimed, " you're 
 the kind of girl I like. I knew that a niece 
 of my brother's wife was living here, but I had 
 no idea she was such a — such a girl as you are ! 
 What is your name? " 
 
 " Margey." 
 
 " Miss Margey," said John Brunder, ex- 
 tending his hand, " I wish you a very happy 
 New Year." 
 
 " The same to you, sir," said she, giving him 
 her hand. 
 
 " And now you want to know why I don't 
 live here," said John Brunder. " You cer- 
 tainly have a right to know, and I will tell you 
 in as few words as possible. I was born in this 
 house and have lived here a good deal, off and 
 on, and the last time I took up my abode in 
 the room with the bedstead with the curly foot- 
 board I thought I was settled for life, but my 
 brother and I are very different in disposition. 
 He is more sober and quiet than I am, and I 
 am a great deal more lively and restless than he 
 is, and there you have our characters in as few 
 words as possible. About six years ago we had 
 a misunderstanding. I will not say anything 
 about it, because he is not here to present his 
 side of the question, and under the circum- 
 
''COME IN, NEW TEAR'' 259 
 
 stances it would not be fair for me to present 
 mine. However, I am very hot-headed at 
 times — not always, mind you, for generally I 
 am very mild indeed, but at this particular 
 time I ignited and went off like a fire-cracker, 
 and you know that when a fire-cracker goes 
 off it doesn't come back again." 
 
 Margey was listening with great interest. 
 She and her companion had seated themselves, 
 and she was rapidly losing all fear of him. 
 
 " As I told you," he continued, " I went 
 off and did not intend to come back, but grad- 
 ually my ideas began to change. My brother 
 was getting old — so was I, for that matter — 
 and I determined to try to be reconciled with 
 him. I started out this day thinking it would 
 be a good thing to begin the N^ew Year in 
 harmony and brotherly love. I expected to be 
 here early in the evening, but my train was 
 detained for a long time, and I really did not 
 know how late it was when I walked up here. 
 I was dumf ounded at finding the house all shut 
 up and dark, and I could not think what to do, 
 for I knew very well that if I rang the bell I 
 might startle your Aunt Ellen, in which case 
 nobody could know what might happen. So 
 I stood there deliberating, and I really believe 
 
260 " COMB IN, NEW TEAR " 
 
 I was on the point of walking back to tlie vil- 
 lage when I heard someone opening the door 
 so gently and quietly that I was positively 
 certain it was highly desirable not to make a 
 noise. So, you see, I was not surprised when 
 the door opened. I supposed that someone, 
 probably Joseph Buckle, had seen me arrive. 
 By the way, is Joseph still here ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! " said Margey. 
 
 " I am glad of that," said John Brunder. 
 " Joseph was always a good friend of mine. 
 Now you see," he continued, " just how things 
 stand. You come down to let the New Year 
 in, and in I pop. I hope the New Year came 
 in with me, and that it will prove to be the hap- 
 piest that any of us has yet known." 
 
 " So do I," said Margey, but she had always 
 wished that ever since she had known what a 
 New Year meant. 
 
 John Brunder rose. " My dear young 
 friend. Miss Margey," he said, " what are we 
 going to do next? And if you will allow me 
 to answer my own question I will say that the 
 very best thing you can do for me is to give me 
 something to eat, or, if it will please you bet- 
 ter, allow me to get it myself, for if the pantry 
 of this house is still under the charge of Joseph 
 Buckle I know where to find the eatables." 
 
" COME IN, NEW YEAR " 261 
 
 For a minute Margey stood and looked 
 earnestly at the good-natured gentleman. She 
 believed, just as firmly as she believed any- 
 thing, that he was Mr. John Brunder, the 
 younger brother of her Uncle Horace, but still 
 she had no positive proof of the fact ; she had 
 only his word for it. Was it right for her to 
 allow him to go about the house and eat things 
 without giving the family notice of his pres- 
 ence? But if she were to go upstairs and 
 knock at her uncle's door, her Aunt Ellen — 
 oh, no; she could not do that at this time of 
 night. 
 
 He laughed. He was almost on the point of 
 laughing aloud, but he checked himself. " I 
 know what you are thinking about,'' said he, 
 " and it is perfectly right for you to think so." 
 
 " Oh, I don't really think," said Margey 
 apologetically, " but, you see, I " 
 
 " Of course I see ! " he answered. " I see, 
 perfectly. Just wait a minute." So saying, 
 he picked up his umbrella. " Now, please look 
 at the name on this silver plate," said he, hold- 
 ing it close to the candle. 
 
 Margey obeyed. " But that isn't your 
 name ! " she exclaimed in surprise. " That is 
 my uncle's name, Horace Brunder! " 
 
" GOME IN, NEW YEAR'* 
 
 " To be sure it is! " said he. " I took it 
 away by mistake and left mine. If be refuses 
 to be reconciled with me, we can change um- 
 brellas anyway, so that my time will not be en- 
 tirely lost." 
 
 Margey smiled. " I think that is a queer 
 way to prove your identity," she said, " but 
 as I truly believe it doesn't need any proving 
 it does not matter." 
 
 " It is a very good proof," persisted the 
 other. " If I were an improper person and 
 had taken that umbrella, do you suppose I 
 would have brought it back? And now let's 
 go into the pantry. I'm nearly famished." 
 
 So saying, he picked up the candlestick, 
 and, shading the flame so that no ray of it 
 should go upstairs, he crossed the hall into 
 the dining-room. Margey followed, and as she 
 saw how deftly he made his way around the 
 furniture and toward the pantry she felt posi- 
 tively assured that he must at one time have 
 been very much at home in that house. In 
 the pantry John Brunder put the candlestick 
 down and looked about him. 
 
 " Do you still eat Albert biscuit? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes! " replied Margey. 
 
 " Then I know where Joseph Buckle keeps 
 
'' GOME IN, NEW YEAR " 263 
 
 them. Joseph never changes. If a thing be- 
 longs in one place, it belongs there always. 
 There/' said he, opening a dresser drawer. 
 " Here is the tin box, just where I have found 
 it hundreds of times before." 
 
 Margej now thought she ought to help a 
 little. To be sure, this genial gentleman 
 seemed to know so well where to find the eat- 
 ables that she might have gone to bed and left 
 him to take care of himself, but this did not 
 suit her ideas of propriety or proper hospital- 
 ity, so she opened another closet. 
 
 " Do you eat cheese at this time of night, 
 sir? '' she asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes," he replied, " when I am as hun- 
 gry as I am now! And isn't that a box of 
 sardines? Open, too! Now, let us take these 
 things over to the table. No, I don't want any 
 plate. All I want is a knife to cut the cheese." 
 And as he spoke he opened a drawer and took 
 out a knife. " Now, my dear," said he, " if 
 you will look in the corner of that second 
 shelf and see if there is not a box of preserved 
 ginger there I shall be much obliged to you. 
 Joseph always kept preserved ginger in that 
 corner." 
 
 Margey laughed as she produced the tin 
 
264 " 00MB IN, NEW YEAR " 
 
 box. " You do seem to know where things 
 are kept in this house/' she said, " and I don't 
 believe anybody has eaten cheese and sardines 
 at this time of night since you went away." 
 
 " No," said he, seating himself at his im- 
 promptu meal; "my brother Horace never 
 indulges in such improprieties, but I was al- 
 ways much more imprudent. But, so far as 
 I can see, my imprudences have agreed with 
 me." 
 
 " Perhaps that is because you are so much 
 younger," said Margey. 
 
 " Younger, yes," said John Brunder, " of 
 course I am younger, but perhaps I ought not 
 to fall back too much on my youth, for I am 
 fifty-six. However," he added, " so long as 
 I am able to eat cheese and sardines in the 
 middle of the night I am not going to com- 
 plain of my age." 
 
 Margey was looking at him with great in- 
 terest, thinking it must have been a long time 
 since he had had anything to eat, when sud- 
 denly she heard a little noise. It was like a 
 person coming cautiously down stairs. She 
 started and listened earnestly. There could 
 be no mistake. She heard footsteps on the 
 backstairs, the door of which opened not far 
 
" 00MB IN, NEW TEAR'' 265 
 
 from the place where she stood. John Brun- 
 der stopped eating, and half rose from his 
 chair. 
 
 " Somebody coming! '^ he whispered. 
 
 Now the door of the stairway slowly opened, 
 and from behind it protruded the head of Jo- 
 seph Buckle, the butler. His face was pale, 
 his eyes and mouth were wide open, and a big 
 club, which he thrust out in front of him, 
 trembled in his hand. John Brunder rose to 
 his feet and pushed back his chair. 
 
 ^' Jo-seph ! " he exclaimed. " Upon my 
 word, it is the same old Joseph! I say, 
 Joseph, how do you do? " 
 
 The old butler stepped down and stood mo- 
 tionless on the floor, his big stick in one hand 
 and a lantern in the other. He looked at Mar- 
 gey, and then he looked at John Brunder. 
 
 " Mr. John ! " he exclaimed in a voice 
 muffled by fright, caution, and amazement. 
 Then, turning his head, he added, " And Miss 
 Margey ! " 
 
 ^' Give me your hand, my good Joseph," 
 said John Brunder. I don't wonder you don't 
 believe your senses. But what are you doing 
 with that club? Did you think we were burg- 
 lars?" 
 
266 " OOME IN, NEW YEAR'' 
 
 "" I did, sir/' said Joseph. " I heard voices, 
 and I was sure there was somebody in the 
 house, and so I came down." 
 
 " Why didn't you bring a pistol? What 
 would you have done with that club if we had 
 really been burglars? " 
 
 ^^ Oh, I couldn't bri:ag a pistol, sir," said 
 Joseph. " If I should fire a pistol and Mrs. 
 Brunder should hear it, there's no knowing 
 what might happen. So I had to come down 
 with nothing but a club." 
 
 " You're a brave fellow," said John Brun- 
 der, " and a loyal one, and I am glad for your 
 sake as well as for our own that we are not rob- 
 bers. You see, Joseph, I have not forgotten 
 where you keep the good things to eat." 
 
 Margey now took pity on the bewildered 
 butler and told him everything that had hap- 
 pened. 
 
 "Well, well!" exclaimed Joseph. "I'm 
 wonderfully glad to see you, Mr. John. It's 
 been a different house here since you went 
 away, sir. Don't you remember, sir, we used 
 to open the front door for the New Year when 
 you lived here? " 
 
 " Of course I do," said John Brunder. " I 
 always used to have some youngsters here, and 
 we had fine times." 
 
" OOME IN, NEW YEAR ' 267 
 
 " And if I had had any idea, miss, that you 
 were used to that sort of thing I'd have come 
 down to help you." 
 
 " Oh, she didn't need anybody's help," said 
 Mr. John. " She did it as well as an angel 
 could have done it. If I had gone back to the 
 village, I believe I should have been so cross 
 that I would have started for the city early 
 in the morning. You know that's my way, 
 Joseph." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the old man, " and some- 
 times it has been a pity that it was your way. 
 But would you like me to go and waken Mr. 
 Brunder, sir? I think I can do it without 
 making any stir." 
 
 " Oh, no, no, no! " exclaimed Mr. John. 
 " Don't think of it. If either of you ever 
 wants to be reconciled with anybody, don't 
 make him get out of a warm bed of a cold night 
 to do it. ]S[o, I'll wait until morning. You 
 can get me into my old room, can't you, Jo- 
 seph, without disturbing anybody? " 
 
 " Of course I can," said Joseph. " We'll 
 go up the backstairs." 
 
 " Then I'll bid you good-night," said Mar- 
 gey, " as I can do nothing more for you." 
 
 " More! " exclaimed Mr. John. " If it is 
 
268 " OOME IN, NEW TEAR" 
 
 all right between my brother and me to-mor- 
 row morning, there isn't a being on earth who 
 could have done as much. And I am very 
 sorry, indeed, that I have kept you up so late." 
 With this he picked up the candle, and he and 
 Joseph escorted Margey to the foot of the great 
 stairway, where she bade them good-night and 
 went quietly up in the moonlight. 
 
 When Margey reached her room, she did 
 not go to bed. It was very late, not far from 
 one o'clock, but she did not mind that. Some 
 of the family at home were up yet. It was 
 the most natural thing in the world to sit up 
 late on I^ew Year's eve. Then she began to 
 think of all that had just happened. It cer- 
 tainly had been a good thing that she had been 
 loyal to the old custom of the family, a wonder- 
 fully good thing, for she was sure if Mr. John 
 were as good-natured and as jolly in the morn- 
 ing as he had been that night his brother could 
 not help being reconciled. She would be very 
 glad, too, if he should come back and live 
 there. It would be so pleasant to have such 
 a jolly person in the house. 
 
 As she thought and thought the affair of 
 the evening seemed like a romance to her. If 
 all turned out well, it would really be a holiday 
 
" COME IN, NEW TEAR " 269 
 
 story. And yet there was an imperfection in 
 the romance. It was not altogether the sort 
 of story she would have made if she had been 
 writing it, and neither was it exactly the sort 
 of real happening that it would have been if 
 she had arranged it. Mr. John was as bright 
 and as cheery as anybody could be, but still 
 if she had had the management of everything 
 and was going to make a romance in real life, 
 which it might just as well have been, her own 
 personality would not have been the only ele- 
 ment of youth in this pleasant invention. 
 Margey was capable of being very fond of el- 
 derly people, but still she was young — she was 
 not yet twenty — and if the person who came 
 with the New Year had been just like Mr. 
 John, only younger — But she would not 
 think such thoughts as these. She ought to be 
 ashamed of herself. Still, for all that, fifty- 
 six was pretty old. Everybody in that house 
 seemed to be so old ! Her favorite maid, Mary, 
 had a married daughter, and, so far as the 
 romance of the evening was concerned, things 
 might have been different just as well as 
 not. 
 
 When at last she pressed her face to the 
 pillow, she was still thinking. 
 
270 " COME IN, NEW YEAR " 
 
 " Fifty-six/' she said to herself, " and it 
 might just as well have been — have been '' — 
 And she had not decided upon the exact age it 
 might have been, when she dropped asleep. 
 
 The next morning Margey was downstairs 
 very early, nearly a quarter of an hour before 
 breakfast, for she was anxious to know every- 
 thing which should happen. In the hall she 
 met Joseph. 
 
 " I wish you a very happy !N'ew Year, miss," 
 he said. " I forgot it last night, being so rat- 
 tled, and if anybody deserves a happy !N^ew 
 Year you do, miss." 
 
 All the romance had gone out of Margey's 
 mind, and things seemed very commonplace 
 to her in the cold light of day. 
 
 " I don't believe I had anything to do with 
 anything,'^ she said. " Mr. John Brunder 
 would have waited a little while longer, and 
 then he would have rung the bell, even if it 
 should startle my aunt." 
 
 "Oh, no, no, no!" said Joseph. "He 
 wouldn't have done that. Nobody knows 
 what might have happened if he had done 
 that. But you'll be glad to hear, miss, that 
 everything is all right. They've been up since 
 a quarter past seven, for I told Mr. Brunder 
 
" COMB IN, NEW TEAR " 271 
 
 the news when I first went into his room. I 
 have not known such early goings-on since 
 Mr. John went away." 
 
 "And they are truly reconciled?" asked 
 Margey. 
 
 " Indeed they are ! " answered Joseph. 
 " They're all upstairs in the study now, as 
 merry as crickets. Even Mrs. Brunder wasn't 
 a bit startled, or if she was it didn't hurt her. 
 There, miss, that's the study door now. 
 They're coming down and in a family party, 
 just as they ought to be." And with this he 
 retired to the dining-room door. 
 
 Margey waited in the hall. It delighted her 
 to know that her Uncle Horace and his brother 
 were good friends again, and that her aunt was 
 happy, and that the house would be more 
 cheerful, and if she had done anything to help 
 bring this about she was very glad of it, but the 
 vague and wandering thoughts which had 
 filled her mind the night before had all gone. 
 The romance of the affair had vanished. 
 
 Downstairs came the happy party, merrily 
 talking. Her Uncle Horace was first of all, 
 his face brighter than sHe had ever seen it, and 
 as soon as he perceived her he called out, 
 " Happy I^ew Year, Margey ! " in a voice so 
 
272 ''COME IN, NEW YEAR'' 
 
 strong and hearty that she could scarcely be- 
 lieve it belonged to him. Then her aunt, who 
 seemed really in a hurry to come downstairs, 
 gave her the same greeting, which was echoed 
 loudly by Mr. John, who was a little in the 
 rear. 
 
 " Happy New Year to '' — you all ! she was 
 about to add, but she did not. She simply 
 stood and gazed, her face turning now a little 
 pale and now a little red, and her eyes wide 
 open with wonderment. The last person of 
 the party coming down the stairs, a little be- 
 hind Mr. John, was a man evidently young. 
 He had no beard, and his face was very fresh- 
 colored. He was tall, too; taller than her 
 Uncle Horace. She thought he looked as 
 though he wanted to bid her a happy ^N'ew 
 Year, too, but he did not do it. 
 
 ]^ow Mr. John laughed aloud, and they all 
 laughed, excepting the young man, who ap- 
 parently knew what they were laughing about, 
 and who turned a little red, and excepting 
 Margey, who did not know what they were 
 laughing at, and who turned somewhat pale. 
 
 "Ah, Margey," shouted Mr. John, "I 
 know what you are thinking about! You're 
 wondering where he came from — you're won- 
 
" COME IN, NEW YEAR " 273 
 
 dering where lie came from a good deal more 
 than you are wondering who he is. You don't 
 know whether I brought him in my valise or 
 folded up inside the umbrella." 
 
 " Now, John," said Aunt Ellen, " you are 
 positively cruel. Margey, this is Arthur, your 
 Uncle John's son. And, Arthur, I must make 
 you acquainted with my niece, Margey Grif- 
 fith." 
 
 The young people silently shook hands, 
 harmonizing in color as they did so, for the 
 recollection of her romantic fancies suddenly 
 came across Margey's mind and flushed her 
 face. 
 
 ^^ Oh, I am not going to be cruel ! " cried 
 Mr. John. " This young man made the trip 
 with me yesterday, but I thought it better for 
 me to leave him at the village and to come to 
 the house by myself; for when Arthur went 
 away he was nothing but a boy, scarcely fif- 
 teen, and I did not know how he might be 
 received." 
 
 " Which was all stuff and nonsense," said 
 Mr. Horace Brunder. " You ought to have 
 known that he would be welcome." 
 
 '' Well," said Mr. John, " I thought I could 
 manage things better by myself, and as you 
 
274 " COME IN, NEW TEAR " 
 
 sent for him early this morning he has nothing 
 to complain of. Moreover, if I had brought 
 Arthur along with me I donH believe I should 
 have had enough to eat last night, for he's a 
 great deal worse in regard to cheese and sar- 
 dines in the middle of the night than I am ; but 
 everything's all right now, and as this young 
 lady is really to consider me as one of her 
 uncles she might as well begin instantly, and 
 so I am going to bid her a happy New Year 
 again, and give her a kiss," which he did with- 
 out delay, and then Aunt Ellen kissed her, and 
 then Uncle Horace did so. 
 
 !N"o, not Arthur. It was not until the 
 seventh of April of that year that he found 
 himself entitled to that inestimable privilege. 
 
 There were a great many things which had 
 to happen before the seventh of April. 
 
 In the first place, Margey had to learn all 
 about the trouble which had resulted in Mr. 
 John's leaving the old family home, and when 
 she discovered that the quarrel between the 
 brothers had been caused by some mad pranks 
 of the boy Arthur she set herself earnestly to 
 work to analyze the mind of the young man 
 Arthur and to find out for herself the interest- 
 ing series of developments whi^h must have 
 
"COME IN, NEW YEAR'' 275 
 
 taken place in his character to change him 
 from the reckless youngster to the exceedingly 
 kind-hearted and considerate young man that 
 he now was. 
 
 Like many other persons in this world, 
 Margey was very fond of the study of human 
 nature : meaning thereby, as is often the case, 
 that she had formed an ideal concerning a cer- 
 tain subject, and that she hoped to be able to 
 convince herself that the subject was equal to 
 her ideal. 
 
 She did not have uninterrupted opportuni- 
 ties for continuing her study, for after a week 
 or two Arthur was obliged to go away, but 
 he came back as soon as he could, and he as- 
 sisted her so much in coming to a satisfactory 
 conclusion in regard to himself and his re- 
 lation to her ideal that by the time the seventh 
 of April came around her education in this 
 branch was entirely finished. 
 
 On the next I^ew Year's eve, a little before 
 twelve o'clock, every member of that family, 
 including Joseph Buckle and some other 
 household servants, assembled in the great hall 
 to invite the ]^ew Year to enter. To Margey 
 was assigned the duty of opening the door, 
 and she did it all herself, refusing any assist- 
 
276 " OOME IN, NEW YEAR " 
 
 ance, even from the very urgent young man 
 who stood close beside her. 
 
 When the great door was opened wide and 
 everybody all at once cried out cheerily, 
 " Come in, ^ew Year! '' there entered noth- 
 ing but a great blast of cold and frosty air, 
 but everybody knew that the Kew Year had 
 come in, and the door was closed. 
 
 " Now," said Mr. John, " this is all very 
 well, but I can tell you, my good relatives and 
 friends, that no happier New Year will ever 
 pass that threshold than when Last Year and 
 I came in together." 
 
 Margey and Arthur had some doubts about 
 this, for they were to be married in the spring. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 SIDE by side with Florence Brower, I stood 
 upon the sea-sands. We had been walk- 
 ing along the beach, and now we had stopped 
 to look out over the ocean. I had known this 
 beautiful girl for about a year, and the love 
 for her which had been gradually growing 
 up in my heart had become so absolutely irre- 
 sistible that, the day before, I had come down 
 to the little seaside village, where Florence and 
 her aunt were spending the summer, on pur- 
 pose to tell her that I loved her, and to end, in 
 one way or another, the suspense which tossed 
 my soul in a storm far more violent, I believed, 
 than any which had ever broken upon this 
 coast. 
 
 If, up to that moment, Florence had not 
 known that she loved me she had no doubt of 
 it when I had finished speaking. She could 
 not conceal the truth from herself, and she did 
 not try to do it. She withdrew her gaze from 
 279 
 
280 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 the sea and dropped it upon a little strip of 
 sand between us. In a very few words, but 
 as plainly as I bad spoken in many words, sbe 
 answered me. Sbe gave me tbe beart wbieb 
 I bad just taugbt ber to know. 
 
 In tbe beautiful world in wbicb we walked 
 togetber, or stood togetber, during tbe next 
 bour, tbere were many wonderful tbings — tbe 
 sky, tbe sea, tbe sparkling air, the scent of tbe 
 pine woods on tbe bluff; but tbere was noth- 
 ing so wonderful as tbe great knowledge that 
 Florence was mine. I could scarcely under- 
 stand it; I did not try to comprehend it. 
 
 At last the time came when we must go back 
 to the village. We walked slowly, sometimes, 
 in the lonely stretches, hand in hand. 
 
 On tbe outskirts of the village we met a jolly 
 old sea-captain, retired from active service and 
 known to us both — Captain Asa Lopper by 
 name. When his eyes fell upon us a curious 
 grin came over his wrinkled face as he gave 
 us an abbreviated greeting. My response was 
 so loud, so hearty, so cordial that the old man 
 must have known that something extraordi- 
 nary had happened to me; but it struck me 
 with surprise that Florence scarcely spoke to 
 tbe captain at all. In fact, when she saw him 
 
M^h^ 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 281 
 
 she gave a little start, and after that, for some 
 minutes, she did not say anything. She soon 
 recovered herself, however, and talked cheer- 
 fully until we reached the cottage where she 
 and her aunt were staying. 
 
 I wished to go into the house, that together 
 we might tell the glorious news to Miss Moul- 
 ton, but Florence gently objected. 
 
 " It would be better," she said, " if I were 
 to tell her myself. Of course it will be a great 
 surprise to her." 
 
 That evening when, at the earliest justifi- 
 able moment, I called at the cottage I did not 
 see Miss Moulton. Florence told me that her 
 aunt had a headache and begged to be excused. 
 
 " You have told her of our engagement," 
 I said; " what does she think of it? " 
 
 Florence smiled. 
 
 " I am bound to say," she answered, " that 
 she does not like it; but you must not mind 
 that. Any engagement I might make would 
 be a great shock to her. Ever since my 
 mother's death, when I was five years old, my 
 aunt and I have lived together. She has no 
 control over me; I am of age, and I am en- 
 tirely my own mistress, but it is natural enough 
 that the news I gave her would shock her." 
 
282 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 Then my dear girl changed the subject, and 
 the world was very bright. 
 
 The next morning I hoped to see Miss Moul- 
 ton as well as Florence and to make my peace 
 with the older lady. Of course she could have 
 no personal objection to me, and I knew she 
 was a good woman ; so, filled with the courage 
 of the morning, I did not fear that I could 
 make it possible for her to see me without a 
 headache. But when I neared the cottage I 
 saw that that was no place for me that morn- 
 ing. There were summer dresses and straw 
 hats upon the piazza, a good many of them. 
 Some of the village ladies were making a call. 
 
 After an early dinner I was smoking a cigar 
 in a little summer-house at the bottom of the 
 hotel garden, when a boy came to me and 
 told me that a gentleman wished to see me. 
 I was surprised at this, for I was but little ac- 
 quainted in the village, and when I reached 
 the hotel I found in the office a middle-aged 
 man whom I had never seen before. He was 
 a serious-visaged person with gray whiskers 
 and introduced himself by means of his card 
 as Romney C. Lloyd, attorney-at-law, of 'New 
 York, and then asked me if I would be kind 
 enough to allow him a private conversation. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 283 
 
 I conducted him to the reading-room, which 
 during the day was seldom tenanted. Here 
 we sat down and he opened the conversation. 
 
 " I am here, Mr. Kadnor," he said, " on 
 account of a telegram which I received last 
 night from Miss Hester Moulton. I took an 
 early train this morning, and am very glad I 
 found you at home, sir, for I wish to return 
 to-day." 
 
 " Do you mean," I exclaimed, " that Miss 
 Moulton telegraphed you to come to see 
 me?" 
 
 " She did," Mr. Lloyd replied, " and on 
 very important business, I assure you, sir." 
 
 " And what is your business? " I asked. 
 " Has it anything to do with my engagement 
 to Miss Brower? " 
 
 " It most certainly has," said he. " But be- 
 fore I enter upon the subject, let me ask you 
 if you have any knowledge of Miss Brewer's 
 father, Gideon Brower? " 
 
 " I know nothing about him," I replied, 
 " except that he has been dead for a good many 
 years." 
 
 " Nine years, sir, in September next. And 
 as you know nothing about him I will give you 
 some information. He was a very eccentric 
 
284 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 person, but his eccentricity was not of a char- 
 acter which could give any reason to doubt 
 the perfect soundness of his intellect. He had 
 his own ideas, and he carried them out with- 
 out regard to the opinions of other people. For 
 the greater part of his life he was a sea-cap- 
 tain. He commanded fine merchantmen, and 
 came to own them; he invested wisely and 
 amassed a large fortune. But he never 
 changed his habits or his mode of life ; he was 
 greatly attached to the sea, and his compan- 
 ions and friends were men who in some way 
 were connected with the sea. He married a 
 lady of excellent family, a Miss Moulton, of 
 "New Haven, who was a passenger on a ship 
 which he commanded on a voyage to the Medi- 
 terranean. After the marriage his wife sailed 
 with him on nearly all his voyages, and when 
 she died old Captain Brower declared that as 
 soon as Florence was old enough she was to 
 sail with him on every voyage he made, and 
 when she got married she was to marry a sea 
 captain. 
 
 " When the old man died he left a will, 
 made not long before his death, which con- 
 tained some peculiar provisions relating to the 
 manner in which his daughter should inherit 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 285 
 
 his property, and it is due to you that you 
 should be made acquainted with these provi- 
 sions. The most important clause is that 
 which declares that the testator's entire for- 
 tune is devised to his daughter, Florence, on 
 condition that she shall marry a sea-captain.'' 
 
 At this I started. " Marry a sea-captain! " 
 I exclaimed. 
 
 " I beg that you will not interrupt me, sir," 
 said Mr. Lloyd. " Let me put the case plainly 
 before you, and then you will know better 
 what to say. I will not go into the details of 
 the will, but its import is simply this : So long 
 as Florence Brower remains unmarried the 
 property left by her father is to remain in 
 the hands of trustees, and the interest and 
 gains accruing from its investment shall be 
 paid to her. When, according to the desire of 
 her father, she shall unite herself in marriage 
 to a sea-captain, then the whole fortune shall 
 be made over to her. But if she shall marry, 
 and not marry a sea-captain, then her interest 
 in said fortune shall immediately cease and 
 determine, and the whole of the estate shall 
 be appropriated in a manner which is after- 
 ward set forth, and which is mainly for chari- 
 table objects connected with mariners and their 
 
286 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 families. This same disposition is arranged 
 for if slie dies a single woman." 
 
 I could not repress an expression of surprise 
 and anger. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said Mr. Lloyd, " but I 
 beg you will give me your attention a little 
 longer. I bave set before you the conditions 
 of the will of Gideon Brower, and I now wish 
 to set before you your own position in this case. 
 You have engaged yourself in marriage to 
 Florence Brower. You are not a sea-captain. 
 It is impossible that, by any pretense, or even 
 the honest adoption of a seafaring profession, 
 you can entitle yourself to be considered a 
 sea-captain in the sense in which such a per- 
 son is referred to in the will. The old man 
 was very wary, and a whole clause is devoted 
 to the purpose of making it impossible for any- 
 one, who is not really and truly in the strictest 
 sense of the word a sea-captain by profession, 
 to marry Miss Brower, and enable her to in- 
 herit the fortune of her father. So you see 
 that Captain Brower tied a good, strong sail- 
 or's knot around his daughter's future. 
 
 " Kow, sir," he continued, " should you 
 marry her the consequences are immediate. 
 She inherits nothing of her father's estate, and. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 287 
 
 more than that, she loses all interest in it; and 
 the income, which she now receives, will cease. 
 May I ask you, Mr. Eadnor, if you have a 
 private fortune which will compensate Miss 
 Brower for the absolute loss of her father's 
 estate? I do not ask you, you will observe, if 
 you are engaged in a business which is likely 
 to yield you an income which will make up 
 for her loss, for I possess full information 
 upon that point." It seemed to me as if my 
 crushed condition did not admit of words, and 
 yet this last remark stung me into speech. 
 
 "What do you mean?'' I asked. "My 
 business? " 
 
 " In this case, as the legal representative of 
 Miss Brower, I have made your business mine. 
 I know that you are the junior partner in the 
 linen importing house of Woodruff & Kadnor. 
 This morning, before I took the train, I went 
 to the Mercantile Register OfSce and investi- 
 gated the commercial rating of your firm. I 
 find that the credit of the house is very low. 
 In fact, you have a very poor commercial 
 standing in business circles. You need not get 
 angry, sir. In cases like this we deal only 
 with facts and there is no need of our forming 
 opinions; so, unless you have a private for- 
 
288 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 tune, or expect one, you are now asking Miss 
 Brower to give up a present competence and a 
 future fortune, and you have nothing to give 
 her in return. N'ow, sir, I have put the case 
 before you, and you can decide for yourself 
 whether or not you are going to insist upon the 
 disastrous engagement you have ignorantly 
 made." 
 
 There was absolutely no answer I could 
 make to the man, and I felt, too, that when 
 I should become able to answer it would not 
 be to him. 
 
 " Tell me this," I said, in a choking voice: 
 " What has Miss Brower^s aunt to do with this 
 matter? How does it concern her? And why 
 should she send for you? " 
 
 " I will tell you," he said. " Miss Moul- 
 ton is a lady without property. Since the 
 death of Captain Brower she and her niece 
 have lived together, and she has shared the 
 benefits of the very handsome income derived 
 from the estate. In fact, she acts as head of 
 the little family and assumes its responsibili- 
 ties. When her niece marries anyone, other 
 than a sea-captain, she will be entirely without 
 support, unless, indeed, that support shall be 
 assumed by the person who marries her niece. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 289 
 
 Naturally enough, sir, she is deeply concerned 
 in the matrimonial actions of Miss Brower." 
 
 My head swam; my blood boiled. I rose 
 and pushed back my chair. 
 
 " I do not want to talk about this now," said 
 I, " and I do not say that I believe a word 
 of it; but one thing I will say — if what you 
 tell me is true, it is the most abominable 
 piece of business I have ever heard of. It is 
 unnatural, vile, incredible.'^ And with that 
 I strode out of the room and into the open air. 
 In what state of mind I left the prying, brutal 
 lawyer I did not know or care. My first im- 
 pulse was to rush to Florence, but I changed 
 my purpose. I was not in a fit state of mind 
 to meet her. I walked with rapid strides on 
 the beach, but in an opposite direction to that 
 which Florence and I had taken the day be- 
 fore. 
 
 I knew now why she had started when she 
 had met Captain Lopper. The dear girl had 
 so loved me, when she pledged herself to me 
 to be mine forever and ever, that she had not 
 thought of the wicked conditions of her fa- 
 ther's will, and they had not come to her mind 
 until we encountered that old sea-captain. 
 Then suddenly she remembered, and of course 
 it affected her. 
 
290 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 Now, too, I understood all about her aunt. 
 Poor Florence! What a time she must have 
 had with that sordid woman! 
 
 In the evening I repaired to the cottage. 
 I had not made up my mind what I was going 
 to say, but there seemed to be no reason for 
 doubt as to what I ought to say. However, 
 love is above everything, and I would come to 
 no conclusion until I had seen Florence. 
 
 I met her on the piazza. 
 
 " You know everything that has hap- 
 pened! " I exclaimed. "Tell me what you 
 think about it." 
 
 " Don't be excited,'' she said. " Let us sit 
 down and talk. I do not think there is much 
 to consider. "We have engaged ourselves to 
 each other, and that is the main point; every- 
 thing else is secondary. For myself, I will 
 merely say that under no circumstances would 
 I refuse to engage myself to a man for the rea- 
 son that I might lose money. I made up my 
 mind about this, long ago. In fact, I had 
 ceased to consider the matter altogether. 
 Now, then, sir," she said, with a smile, " what 
 do you think about it? " 
 
 I could not answer. I felt as if I could tear 
 the hair from my head; again was this terrible 
 responsibility of deciding cast upon me. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 291 
 
 During my hesitation I saw a quick shade 
 pass over Florence's face; it was gone in an 
 instant. 
 
 " No/' I exclaimed, " you need not think 
 that!" 
 
 " I do not think it," she said quickly. " A 
 devil thrust the idea into my mind, but I 
 would not let it stay. I know as well as I 
 know anything that I am the same to you, 
 whether I have money or not." 
 
 Kow I rose and stepped toward her, with 
 arms outstretched. I had not determined to 
 accept her sacrifice; I had determined upon 
 nothing; but love is stronger than all besides. 
 I stopped suddenly; there was a sound of 
 footsteps in the hall and someone was about to 
 enter the parlor. 
 
 But Florence was very quick of action. She 
 stepped closer to me and said in a voice low, 
 but perfectly clear and distinct, " It is settled; 
 we are to marry." 
 
 All that night, in my waking hours and in 
 my dreams, the angels sang to me a song of 
 heaven, the words of which were these : " We 
 are to marry." And all night long, sleeping or 
 waking, I heard the devils sing another song, 
 the words being : " You rob her of her for- 
 
A SAILORS KNOT 
 
 tune." I awoke the happiest man in the 
 world, and the most distressed one. 
 
 I knew now what I had not appreciated be- 
 fore — that Florence was a rich woman. In 
 town she and her aunt lived in a handsome 
 house ; they had horses, carriages, opera-boxes 
 — all that rich people have. When I had 
 thought of these things at all, I had supposed 
 that Miss Moulton was wealthy; now I knew 
 that she had nothing, Florence everything. 
 
 As never before had I appreciated Flor- 
 ence's wealth, so never before had I appreci- 
 ated my comparative poverty. I was young 
 and enthusiastic, and had high hopes of a suc- 
 cessful mercantile career. But when I came 
 to look at my prospects in the cold hard light 
 which Mr. Lloyd had thrown upon them, I saw 
 that it would be a long time, if that time ever 
 came, before I could offer Florence even a 
 small proportion of what I would take from 
 her if I married her. 
 
 Business had not been good of late, and my 
 partner. Woodruff, who was the capitalist, in 
 a very small way, of the concern, had become 
 despondent. I was indeed a poor young man, 
 and I had had no right to ask a girl like Flor- 
 ence to marry me. But love is above every- 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 293 
 
 thing, and love had met love, and Florence had 
 said we were to marry! These words, for the 
 time, swept doubt and conscience to the right 
 and left, but doubt and conscience never failed 
 to come rolling back. 
 
 I spent that morning with Florence, much 
 to the discomfiture of Miss Moulton, who sup- 
 posed that we would have settled everything 
 on the evening before, and that I would have 
 gone away by an early train. Florence was a 
 brave girl that day. She saw how happy I 
 was and how miserable I was, and she tried 
 hard, in every gentle and sensible way, to 
 bring me into her frame of mind; but this 
 was a difficult piece of work. I was not sure 
 she was capable of understanding the position 
 in life which I could offer her, and if I di- 
 lated too much upon this point, I feared that 
 again the suspicion might come into her mind 
 that I did not want her without her money. 
 
 Before I left the cottage she proposed that 
 we should take a sail in the afternoon. We 
 would get Captain Asa to take us out in his 
 boat, and the fresh air would clear our brains. 
 Of course I agreed, but I said to myself that 
 the longer I stayed here the harder it would be 
 for me to decide; after all, perhaps the best 
 
294 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 thing I could do might be to go away and write 
 to her. 
 
 There was a good wind and Captain Asa's 
 boat soon left the village far behind her. We 
 were on a long tack, Florence and I sitting 
 together on the windward side, the captain at 
 the tiller. For some time he had been looking 
 at us with a certain whimsical but benignant 
 expression, and now he spoke. 
 
 " You two young people seem to have run 
 into a streak o' bad weather, eh? Kind o' 
 rough and lookin' like as if there was goin' to 
 be a heavy blow. Isn't that about it ? " 
 
 We both gazed at the old man in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " What do you mean? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Well, there ain't no use o' makin' no bones 
 about it," said he. '^ I know what's the mat- 
 ter with you. I knowed it day before yester- 
 day mornin' when I met you walkin' along 
 the beach. I said to myself, ' There now, 
 it's come at last. She's goin' to be married, 
 and it ain't to a sea-captain.' JSTow don't jump 
 like that; you might go overboard before you 
 know it. I know all about your father's will, 
 miss. I knowed the old captain very well. I 
 never sailed with him, but I met him on shore 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 295 
 
 lots o' times; and I've heard about the queer 
 will lie made." 
 
 " Does everybody in this place know about 
 my father's will?" asked Florence, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " Some does/' replied Captain Asa, " but 
 the most of 'em doesn't. I heard about it a 
 long time ago, but I never thought of it agin 
 till the other day. I knowed what had hap- 
 pened when I saw you two walkin' together, 
 and I wasn't a bit surprised when that lawyer 
 got here, nor when I saw your doleful face, 
 sir, after seein' him, when you was a-walkin' 
 on the beach, goin' along at about six knots 
 an hour. Well, I've had you two on my mind 
 ever since, and I'm glad to have a chance o' 
 tellin' you what my thinkin' comes to. Would 
 you like to hear? " 
 
 Florence and I looked at each other. These 
 astonishing remarks of the old captain had a 
 very strong flavor of impertinence, but it was 
 such a good-natured impertinence that I did 
 not know whether or not I was called upon to 
 resent it. Florence appeared amused and curi- 
 ous. 
 
 " What in the world can you have been 
 thinking about us, Captain Asa?" said she. 
 " Of course we would like to hear." 
 
^96 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 " Well, then," said the captain, " Til let 
 you have it in as short order as I know how. 
 Here jou are, miss, with a fortune, which 
 IVe heard is a mighty big one, waitin' to 
 jump into your lap the minute you marry a 
 man that's a sea-captain, and, more than that, 
 all ready to scud out o' sight the minute you 
 marry anybody that ain't a sea-captain. Well, 
 you made up your mind to marry a man that 
 ain't a sea-captain, and while I don't want to 
 say nothin' to hurt nobody's feelin's, I'm 
 bound to say that I- don't believe, judgin' by 
 the looks of that young man's face when he 
 was marchin' along the beach yesterday, that 
 he's got a fortune to give you in place of the 
 one that's ready to scud away. So you've got 
 to give up either the man you want to marry 
 or the money you ought to have, and it ain't 
 an easy thing to make a choice like that." 
 
 Florence flushed. 
 
 " You are very much mistaken. Captain 
 Asa," she said. " It is not at all difficult to 
 make such a choice, and I have made it." 
 
 " Oh, that's all very well for you, miss," 
 said the captain. " You're givin' up what's 
 yours, but it's different with him. He's mak- 
 in' you give up what's yours; and that must 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 297 
 
 come dreadfully tough on a man who's any- 
 kind of a man. ^ow don't get mad, either of 
 you. Just let me tell you how you can get out 
 of the whole trouble without losin' any of the 
 money and neither of you givin' up the other 
 one. This is the way to do it: You, Miss 
 Brower, you marry me." 
 
 At this I sprang to my feet. 
 
 " Look out, young man! '' shouted the cap- 
 tain. ^^ The next thing you'll be overboard, 
 and that'll settle matters the wrong way." 
 
 " Sit down, Arthur! " cried Florence, ** and 
 don't interrupt him. This is the funniest thing 
 I ever heard." 
 
 " Well," said the captain, " this is the way 
 I'd do it: Some fine mornin', whenever you 
 two are ready, I'll take you in this boat and I'll 
 sail you over to Clamborough. Parson Mil- 
 lick lives over there, and he and I 're good 
 friends. He's married me twice a'ready and 
 he'll do it again. Then, miss, we'll come 
 back here and you will have your marriage cer- 
 tificate in your pocket. Then you and your 
 aunt can start for E'ew York, and your fath- 
 er's money will be yours — every cent of it. 
 That'll be all fixed and settled. IsTow, as for 
 me, it ain't in the course o' nature that I can 
 
298 A SAILORS KNOT 
 
 last very much longer. I'm in my seventy- 
 eighth year now, though, perhaps, I don't look 
 it, and there ain't none of my family that's 
 ever reached eighty, so it ain't nat'ral to ex- 
 pect that I'll be in the way very long; and 
 all I want out o' this business is just two dol- 
 lars a day as long as I'm survivin'. I did 
 think o' puttin' it at two and a half, but two 
 dollars is enough. Then when I'm out o' the 
 way — and I'll put it in my will that you ain't 
 to wear no black — all you've got to do, sir, is 
 to wait a decent time and then step up and 
 marry the widder." 
 
 At these remarkable words Florence looked 
 at me and then at the captain and burst into 
 uncontrollable laughter. T stared at her in 
 amazement. What in the world there was to 
 laugh at I could not imagine. My mind was 
 filled with horror. To imagine Florence as a 
 widow was to think of myself as a defunct con- 
 sort. I was angry; I felt as if I would like 
 to get up and throw the old man out of his boat, 
 and yet there was something in his proposition 
 which raised in my soul a feeling which was 
 certainly not resentment, but which I would 
 be ashamed to call hope, the result being that 
 my mind was in a turmoil such as it had never 
 known before. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 299 
 
 " You are both young," said tlie captain, 
 " and I expected you^d both bile over, but 
 whether you bile out o' the spout or rattle the 
 lid, it don't make no diffrence. And when 
 you come to think serious about what IVe 
 said, I know you'll cool down. You can 
 laugh as much as you please, miss, but you 
 know as well as I can tell you that here am I 
 a-holdin' out to you the whole o' your father's 
 fortune, and all you've got to do is to hold 
 out your hand and take it, and pay me two 
 dollars a day for nobody knows how short a 
 time." 
 
 At this Florence laughed again. 
 
 " Captain," she cried, " I believe you'll live 
 a dozen years! " 
 
 At this the old man almost lost his temper. 
 " I don't want to be disrespectful, miss, but 
 that's stuff. It ain't in natur' that I can do it, 
 and, as to the gentleman, I put it to his own 
 good-sense if he wouldn't rather wait a little 
 bit so that you can have the money that's 
 rightly your own than to take you now and 
 strip you o' every copper. I've had my say, 
 and I don't want to hurry you about your an- 
 swer. You two are caught in a heavy blow 
 and I've offered you a port of refuge. Now 
 
300 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 you can make up your minds whetlier you'll 
 run in or not." 
 
 On the homeward trip I found myself in a 
 very embarrassing position. I felt as if I 
 could blaze and burst like a package of fire- 
 crackers, but I also felt that I had no right 
 to decide anything. It was not for me to say 
 whether or not Florence should accept the 
 fortune which was offered to her in this way. 
 
 " Captain Asa/' she exclaimed, " you must 
 not ask for an answer to your amazing propo- 
 sition. An answer would put an end to it, and 
 it ought to live forever." 
 
 " That's not serious," said the captain, " and 
 it don't mean nothin'. All I ask you is to 
 think it over, and take it cool. Even if I did 
 live to be eighty you two would only have to 
 wait two years, and that's not as long as I 
 waited the fust time I was married; and as to 
 two dollars a day for two years, that's not 
 much when circumstances are considered." 
 
 Florence and I did not say much to each 
 other as we walked from the landing-place to 
 the cottage. She was pale, and I could see 
 by her nervous step that she was excited. Be- 
 fore we reached the house she stopped. 
 
 " I am beginning to hate my father's 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 301 
 
 money," she said. " I believe it is a curse 
 upon me." Then suddenly she looked me full 
 in the face. " I wish you hated it as I do," 
 she said. 
 
 This was a sharp thrust, and it hurt me. In 
 my soul I knew I was not angry enough at the 
 old sailor for the proposition he had made. I 
 knew that, in spite of myself, I did not utterly 
 repel his astounding proposition. I knew that 
 the desire not to deprive Florence of her for- 
 tune was ready to rise above everything when- 
 ever the chance was given it. 
 
 " Don't look like that," she said, speaking 
 more gently. ^^ I know you are only a man, 
 and that your every thought in this world is 
 for me. Let us forget that old captain; let 
 us forget everything in this world but each 
 other. If we can do that, I think we may be 
 very happy." 
 
 It was necessary for me to return to New 
 York the next day, and I was glad that it was 
 necessary. To decide the great question of 
 my life was almost impossible. I knew that 
 if I said the word, Florence was ready to marry 
 me regardless of all consequences. But for 
 me to accept this sacrifice was an entirely dif- 
 ferent thing. 
 
302 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 In less than a week after my arrival in New 
 York the question was decided for me. The 
 firm of Woodruff & Eadnor failed most disas- 
 trously. The senior partner was a rash and 
 hopeful man; the junior partner was in love. 
 The wreck had been complete; everything 
 was gone ; we had nothing left but our debts. 
 I had a little income which came to me from 
 my family — barely enough to support me in 
 the simplest way of living. To ask Florence 
 to give up her fortune and share my absolute 
 poverty was simply impossible. I wrote to her 
 and told her everything. I did not ask her 
 to release me from my engagement ; I simply 
 withdrew from it. I knew that it would be 
 kindness to her if I did that. 
 
 She did not write to me. What could she 
 have said had she written? We simply parted 
 without a word of regret, or a word of love. 
 My letter to her was no more than a mere 
 business note. 
 
 I went into the country to visit my family, 
 and while there I received a letter from Miss 
 Moulton. This surprised me very much. 
 What could she have to say to me? It was 
 now nearly two months since I had parted 
 with Florence, and in all that time I had not 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 303 
 
 heard from her. Miss Moulton's letter was a 
 long one, and portions of it were written so 
 well, and her statements were so clear and so 
 plainly expressed, that I felt sure that much of 
 the matter had been dictated, or at least sug- 
 gested, by someone other than the writer. 
 
 The contents of the letter may be stated 
 briefly: Miss Moulton informed me that be- 
 fore she and her niece returned to !N'ew York 
 they had received news that things were go- 
 ing badly with the Brower property. Some of 
 their legal friends had had their suspicions 
 aroused by some very remarkable investments 
 made by Mr. Lloyd, who was one of the prin- 
 cipal trustees of the estate, and who seemed to 
 have talren everything into his own hands, 
 and they had therefore made some investiga- 
 tions into the state of affairs. The result 
 showed them clearly that Mr. Lloyd was acting 
 very injudiciously and rashly, and, although 
 there was no proof of any actual dishonesty, 
 there was every reason to fear that if he was 
 allowed to keep on in his present speculative 
 career, the Brower estate was in great danger. 
 
 After this there followed several pages of 
 very careful writing, in which Miss Moulton 
 endeavored to say what she had to say in the 
 
304 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 most delicate and sympathetic manner. But 
 the sum of it was this: Florence had deter- 
 mined to accept the helping hand which Cap- 
 tain Asa had held out to her. It was necessary 
 to do something promptly and immediately in 
 order to save her estate, which, as Miss Moul- 
 ton put it, was now all that was left to her. 
 The only thing which could be done promptly 
 and immediately was to marry Captain Asa on 
 the terms which he had proposed. 
 
 This had been done. They had not called 
 in the services of the captain's old friend, 
 Parson Millick, but they had been married 
 by the rector of the village church. Flor- 
 ence had wished to do nothing in an under- 
 hand way. She wished that all who cared 
 to know should know everything she had done, 
 how she had done it and why she had done 
 it. After the simple ceremony Miss Moulton 
 and her niece had repaired to 'New York and 
 the captain had gone home to his cottage. 
 
 Florence had made immediate claim for 
 her property and was now in full possession 
 of what was left of her father's estate. The 
 value of the property had been much impaired, 
 but a handsome fortune remained. 
 
 " There is one thing," Miss Moulton wrote 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 306 
 
 in conclusion, " which Florence has said to 
 me several times, and which I do not think I 
 am violating any confidence in mentioning. 
 She asserts that the marriage she has made 
 is an honorable and straightforward one, with 
 no afterthoughts. One or two of her friends 
 have suggested that it would be possible, after 
 a time, to terminate the connection by means 
 of a divorce, which would be easy enough 
 should both parties agree. But to this she de- 
 clares she will never consent. Her respect for 
 herself would not permit her to think of it." 
 The letter ended thus : " I have written this 
 at the request of Mrs. Lopper, who thinks that 
 you should know everything that has hap- 
 pened, and that she would rather you should 
 hear it from me than from anyone who might 
 be apt to state it incorrectly." 
 
 Mrs. Lopper! This was too much. I laid 
 my head upon the table before me and shut 
 my eyes. But the world was no blacker to 
 me with my eyes shut than when they were 
 open. 
 
 For the greater part of the winter I lived 
 an aimless sort of life, and yet not altogether 
 aimless, for the great desire which now pos- 
 sessed me was to avoid a meeting with Flor- 
 
306 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 ence. I knew very well that if I should meet 
 her I would find her the same sensible, straight- 
 forward, noble woman that I had always 
 found her, and that lihe would do everything 
 to set me at my ease and to establish between 
 us those relations which should exist between 
 two persons situated as we were. 
 
 But I also knew very well that, so far as 
 my feelings toward Florence were concerned, 
 there was nothing noble, straightforward, or 
 sensible about them. I thought that I could 
 not meet her — I could not look at her. To 
 take her by the hand and call her Mrs. Lop- 
 per — I would rather cut off my hand. 
 
 As the spring began to grow into summer a 
 strange instinct seemed to possess me, and 
 that was a desire to go to Captain Asa. When- 
 ever I thought of the little village by the sea, 
 of his cottage, and of himself, I imagined that 
 I saw the only refuge which offered itself to 
 me on the face of the earth. No matter how 
 far I might go, where I might wander or 
 travel, there was no other place in this coun- 
 try or in foreign lands where I might not meet 
 with Flor — no, Mrs. Lopper and her aunt. 
 
 So down to the village by the sea I repaired 
 with my baggage, and when I went to call 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 307 
 
 upon Captain Asa he was delighted. I don^t 
 know why he should have been glad to see me, 
 but he most certainly was glad. He would not 
 allow me to stay at the little tavern where I 
 had taken a room, but insisted on my coming 
 to his house. If I wanted to pay him board I 
 could do so. He would make no change in 
 his way of living on my account, therefore 
 he would not charge me much. 
 
 I found Captain Asa in fine condition men- 
 tally and physically. He did not hesitate to 
 acknowledge that his regular income had had 
 a most beneficial influence upon him. He did 
 not work so hard — in fact, he did not work 
 at all unless he felt like it. He lived better 
 — his mind was always at ease. 
 
 Had I been asked at this time how long 
 the good captain was likely to live, I might 
 have said, judging from his general appear- 
 ance, that there was no reason why he should 
 not survive for ten years or more. He looked 
 a great deal more hale and hearty than when 
 I first knew him. 
 
 He was very jolly, and his enjoyment of my 
 company seemed to increase. " I was gettin' 
 mighty lonely before you came,'' he said, 
 " for I'm bound to admit that a fellow that 
 
308 A SAILORS KNOT 
 
 hasn't anything that he's got to do is a good 
 deal more apt to get lonely than if he had some- 
 thing to do. And then, again, it seems the 
 comicalest thing in the world for you and me 
 to be living here together. I'm not going to 
 go into particulars, but it does seem comical." 
 
 He made this remark a good many times, 
 and he never made it without finishing off 
 with a good laugh. I saw nothing comical in 
 the situation ; in fact, there was nothing in the 
 world at that time which seemed comical to 
 me, or very interesting. But I could not deny 
 that the old captain seemed to be some sort of 
 a connection between me and something which 
 had been all the world to me, and I do not 
 doubt that the captain thought I was some 
 sort of a connection between him and some- 
 thing which was the source of all the great 
 comfort and satisfaction which now pervaded 
 his life. So, although it might appear comical 
 that we should live together, it was natural 
 enough that we should like to do so. 
 
 Meanwhile, idleness pressed rather heavily 
 upon me, and yet I had no ambition for any 
 career in life but one. It had struck me in 
 my melancholy wanderings and cogitations 
 that if, in the future, circumstances should so 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 309 
 
 arrange themselves tliat — Mrs. Lopper should 
 be free again to marry, it was more than prob- 
 able that, with her conscientious feelings and 
 constant desire to do what was honorable and 
 right, she might feel that she could not carry 
 out her father's wishes in regard to her, and 
 especially could not rightfully enjoy the for- 
 tune he had conditionally left, unless she not 
 only married a sea-captain but continued to 
 be the wife of a sea-captain — that is, if she 
 should choose to marry again. That might be 
 a very finely drawn sentiment, but I could see 
 that there would be ground for its existence, 
 especially in the case of such a woman as the 
 daughter of Captain Brower. 
 
 Now, when Captain Asa asked me to go 
 out sailing with him I always consented, and 
 I asked a good many questions about keels, 
 rudders, and masts. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! '' said he one day, " you're be- 
 ginnin' to catch the seafarin' fever. I don't 
 wonder at that. A man's always in danger of 
 gettin' it if he associates with them that's had 
 it." 
 
 I answered that I did begin to feel an inter- 
 est in nautical matters which I did not previ- 
 ously know. The captain looked at me stead- 
 ily for some moments; then he said: 
 
310 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 " I^ow, look here, young man. I don't think 
 there's a better thing in this world that you 
 can do than to learn to be a sailor. From what 
 you tell me, all you know of business is of no 
 earthly use now, and so you've got to learn 
 somethin' else. And if you've got to do that, 
 why don't you take to navigation? It would 
 be a good thing for any able-bodied man that 
 hasn't a leanin' in another direction, and it 
 would be a particularly good thing for you. 
 Yes, sir," he repeated, " it would be a partic- 
 ularly good thing for you. I don't want to go 
 into any questions about how long it would 
 take you to graduate, and that sort of thing, 
 but I do say that I'm mighty glad to know 
 that you take an interest in the sea." 
 
 After that Captain Asa lost no opportunity 
 of instructing me in regard to all sorts of nau- 
 tical points, even going so far as to endeavor 
 to instil into my mind the use of the sextant. 
 But I am afraid he found me a very dull 
 scholar. I had inclination enough, but no apti- 
 tude. It was evident that Neptune had had 
 nothing to do with the stars that influenced 
 my nativity. 
 
 The fact that a steady and regular income 
 now rolled in upon the captain — in very small 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 311 
 
 waves to be sure, but in surf quite heavy 
 enough for the sort of beach he possessed — 
 made him feel that he could indulge himself 
 in little extravagances. He had a sum of 
 money hoarded by, but until now he had never 
 felt that he could draw upon it for luxuries. 
 Now he did feel that he could do so, and he 
 bought a better sailboat than he had ever 
 owned — making a very good bargain, by the 
 way, in trading off his old one. 
 
 One day when we were sailing on the bay, 
 a mile or two from shore, a very heavy wind 
 sprang up — it may have been half a gale, or 
 three-fourths of one, or perhaps seven-eighths, 
 for all I know — but it blew hard, and as his 
 new boat was furnished with a jib, to which 
 sail Captain Asa had not lately been accus- 
 tomed, he thought it would be wise to take 
 it in. 
 
 I offered to go forward and lower the jib, 
 but this he would not allow me to do. 
 
 " You will fall overboard if you try that, 
 my boy," said he; " just you take hold of this 
 tiller and keep it exactly as it is, and I wjll go 
 for'ard." 
 
 The captain scrambled to the bow, as active 
 as a boy, and as I looked at him I could not 
 
812 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 prevent a little feeling of despondency. My 
 conscience was always ready to resist any such 
 feeling as this, but sometimes it was taken un- 
 awares. 
 
 As Captain Asa crouched by the mast, 
 lowering the jib, the wind gave a sudden leap 
 against the sail — though this may not be 
 a nautical expression — and the shock to the 
 boat was so great that the tiller jerked itself 
 from my hand. It is likely that I did not com- 
 prehend the necessity of grasping it firmly 
 at such a time, but, at any rate, it was gone 
 from my hand in an instant, and in that instant 
 the boat swept around as though it would slide 
 from under us. 
 
 It did slide from under the captain. Totally 
 unprepared for such a motion, he slipped and 
 went overboard. As I gazed with open- 
 mouthed horror upon him as he toppled toward 
 the sea, he turned his head in my direction and 
 gave me a look which I shall never forget as 
 long as I live. It was a look of suspicion, con- 
 tempt, and hatred. It told me as plainly as if 
 he had spoken that he believed I had pur- 
 posely let the boat fly around. He knew very 
 well that it would be everything to me if he 
 should fall into the sea and be drowned. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 313 
 
 He did fall into tlie sea, but not entirely. 
 The accident was a much more terrible one 
 than I thought it was going to be when I first 
 saw him totter outward from the deck. He fell 
 into the water with a great splash, but one foot 
 was caught in some cordage, and so, instead 
 of sinking out of sight and rising again head 
 uppermost, which would have given him a 
 very good chance for his life, he hung in the 
 water head downward and unable to do any- 
 thing to help himself. 
 
 Instantly I was at his side ; clutching some- 
 thing on deck with one hand and reaching the 
 other toward him, I seized him by his clothes 
 and endeavored to pull him upward. But this 
 I found almost impossible. The old man must 
 have weighed nearly two hundred pounds. 
 
 Still, I must pull him out of the water. If 
 he should hang thus a few seconds longer, he 
 would be drowned. He must not drown! 
 Again I lifted — I pulled — I strained every 
 muscle, every sinew; I drew myself upward 
 as though possessed with a giant's strength. 
 My eyes were starting out of my head; my 
 muscles were stretched as though they would 
 crack. But the captain's head came out of 
 the water; one of his arms came up, and with 
 
314 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 a sudden dash lie caught the railing, now very 
 near him — the weight of both of us keeling 
 the boat over toward him — and then with a 
 tremendous heave I had him on board. I 
 rolled him over to a place of safety, and there, 
 with purple face and glaring eyes, he lay in 
 the bottom of the boat, puffing and spitting 
 salt water from his mouth. He had held his 
 breath and had not lost consciousness. In fact, 
 he had been in the water but a very little time. 
 
 The boat lay with its head to the wind, 
 pitching and tossing, and the mainsail flapped 
 and fluttered in a terrible way. But as I did 
 not know how to do anything to help matters, 
 I did not try. In a few moments, however, the 
 captain was himself again — at least enough 
 himself to go to the stern and take the tiller. 
 And then, dripping with water, he put the 
 boat about and headed her for the village. 
 
 So far we had said nothing. E'either of us 
 had breath enough for talking. But now 
 Captain Asa turned his face on me with a 
 very different expression from that which I 
 had seen upon it as he went overboard. 
 
 " Bless my soul," said he, " I thought you 
 would split yourself apart when you were 
 pulling me in! You are a better fellow than 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 315 
 
 I took you for. Fact is, tliere ain't many men 
 along this shore could Ve done it/' 
 
 I felt very much inclined to ask him if he 
 had really suspected that I had purposely 
 caused the accident, but I thought it would be 
 better to keep quiet. He did not suspect me 
 now, and that was enough. 
 
 Before we reached the shore I was shivering 
 with cold, for the upper part of my body had 
 been well drenched. As for the captain, he 
 declared that he thought he was going to have 
 a chill. We secured the boat and hurried 
 home as fast as possible. The old man looked 
 a little blue in the face, and I could see him 
 shiver. It would be a bad thing for a man 
 at his age to be taken with a chill. 
 
 I paid no attention to my own wet condi- 
 tion, but set vigorously to work to take care of 
 the captain. I gave him a good rub-down and 
 put him to bed. Then, at his request, I mixed 
 him a dose of quinine and whiskey. There was 
 a medicine chest in his room, and I weighed 
 the drug in a little pair of brass scales. 
 
 " Make it sixteen grains," said the captain, 
 his head just peering above the blankets. 
 " That's a dose for a whole day, but I'll take 
 it all to once." 
 
316 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 When I had poured the whiskey into a 
 tumbler he spoke again: 
 
 '' Who's that for? '' said he. " We don't 
 take no infant doses in this house. Put in 
 about as much again, if you please. ^N'ow stir 
 in the quinine and get old Jane to fill it up 
 with hot water, the hottest she's got." 
 
 When I brought this terrible decoction to 
 Captain Asa's bedside he sat up, put the glass 
 to his lips, and drained its contents in one 
 draught. 
 
 ^^ It's the only way to take that sort of stuff,'* 
 said he. " If you stop once you'll never be- 
 gin again." And then he lay down and cov- 
 ered himself up. 
 
 A little later I mixed myself a dose accord- 
 ing to the captain's prescription, but with the 
 proportions very much smaller, and when I 
 had swallowed it I said to myself, contorting 
 my face dreadfully, I am sure, " If I have 
 poisoned that good old man I have done it at 
 his own request." 
 
 Old Jane, the woman who came in from 
 a neighboring house to attend to Captain Asa's 
 domestic affairs, was very much concerned. 
 About three years before, she told me, the 
 captain had fallen into the water and had been 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 317 
 
 very sick for a week afterward, and had to liave 
 a doctor. 
 
 As I lay in bed that night, unable to sleep 
 on account of the taste in my mouth, distress- 
 ing ideas came into my head. I could not help 
 thinking that the captain was three years older 
 than when he had fallen into the water before, 
 and was therefore more likely to be affected 
 by the drenching. Then I began to ask my- 
 self if it were possible that there could be 
 anything which I ought to have done and 
 which I did not do — if, in any way other than 
 the carelessness which made me let the tiller 
 slip from my hand, I could blame myself for 
 what had happened and for what might hap- 
 pen. 
 
 I came down a little late next morning, and 
 I found the captain on hand, as lively as a 
 cricket, with a great appetite for his breakfast. 
 My spirits rose and the meal was a very pleas- 
 ant one. The captain seemed delighted to see 
 me in good spirits. He talked gayly over our 
 morning pipes, and, slapping me on the back, 
 exclaimed, " You're a mighty poor sailor, I'm 
 bound to say that, but you're a good fellow at 
 a steady pull," and with that he gave me one 
 of those glances of approval which had been 
 quite frequent during breakfast. 
 
318 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 I continued to go out with the captain, fish- 
 ing and sailing, but my nautical education was 
 brought to a close. 
 
 " I don^t believe it^s a bit of use," said he. 
 " It ain't in you and it can't be put into you. 
 You might as well take me up to ISTew York 
 to teach me to sell linen goods and ribbons. 
 You were born for the land, and I was born 
 for the sea, and we'd better stick to what suits 
 us." 
 
 If the old fellow had known how earnestly 
 and how often I had longed that I had been 
 born for the sea, he would not have made that 
 speech. 
 
 I knew very well that I now ought to go 
 somewhere and try to do something, but I 
 made no effort in any direction. The cap- 
 tain wanted me to stay with him and I wanted 
 to stay. If I went into the busy world I felt 
 that I was much more likely to meet with Flor- 
 ence than with any opportunity of making 
 money. I believed that I would be involun- 
 tarily and unwittingly drawn in her direction. 
 I could not even consider this without a chill 
 in my heart, and I stayed with the captain. 
 
 I never saw anyone more determined to en- 
 joy life than was Captain Asa Lopper at this 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 319 
 
 time. Never before, as he told me over and 
 over again, had his conscience allowed him to 
 live up to his income. 
 
 IN'ow he was careful not to go beyond it, 
 but he lived up to it. 
 
 Among other comforts which he gathered 
 about him was a cow. The captain was very 
 fond of fresh milk, and he was determined to 
 have plenty of it. Morning, noon, and night, 
 he drank milk at his meals, and if he wanted 
 more of the refreshing beverage between 
 meals he went out into his little paddock and 
 milked a glassful. If a friend stopped in in 
 the daytime, or even in the evening, the cap- 
 tain was glad to milk him a tumblerful of 
 fresh milk, if he would take it. On being 
 told that this sort of treatment was rather bad 
 for a cow, the old man replied, " It may be 
 bad for her, but good for me. I bought her 
 for my good, not for her'n." 
 
 He was also fond of what he called " gar- 
 den stufF,'^ and when his cucumbers were big 
 enough to pick he had them on the table morn- 
 ing, noon, and night. I frequently remarked 
 to him that it was a dangerous thing to drink 
 so much milk and eat so many cucumbers at 
 the same time. But he laughed at the idea. 
 
320 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 " I've spent the biggest part of my life," 
 said he, " in not havin' what I wanted, and 
 now that I've got the chance to have what I 
 want I'm goin' to have it. It's my opinion 
 that cow's milk and cowcumbers go first-rate 
 together." 
 
 This troubled me and it troubled old Jane. 
 " It'll give him the cholery," she said, ^^ and 
 if he once gets took with that it's all up with 
 him." 
 
 The next morning I got up very early, and, 
 going into the garden, I picked all the cucum- 
 bers from the vines and gave them to the cow. 
 She consumed them with rapidity and with 
 evident gratitude, and I felt delighted to see 
 them disappear. I had begun to feel that it 
 was my paramount duty to take care of Cap- 
 tain Asa's life. If anything, in any manner 
 connected with fatal results, should happen to 
 him while I lived with him, what would — 
 what would people say? In fact, what would 
 I think if any sort of evil which I could avert 
 should come to this old man who stood be- 
 tween me and all earthly happiness? 
 
 The captain said nothing about the loss of 
 his cucumbers, at which I was a little surprised. 
 But the next day he was very loud in praise 
 
A SAILORS KNOT 321 
 
 of the quality of his milk. " I never tasted 
 anything like it," he said; "it's better than 
 any kind of drink I ever did drink. It's all 
 nonsense about my way of milkin' bein' bad 
 for the cow. I don't think that rich people 
 who keep their cows in mahogany stalls has 
 got milk like this." 
 
 The weather was bad that day and at night 
 there was a regular storm. The wind was high 
 and the rain was heavy. A little before bed- 
 time the captain began to complain of not feel- 
 ing well, and before long he was in great pain. 
 
 " I've got the cholery," he said, " or some- 
 thin' like it." 
 
 His face grew very gray and haggard. Old 
 Jane had gone home, and I thought the best 
 thing to do would be to go immediately for the 
 doctor. So I clapped on my hat, and, not think- 
 ing it necessary to put on even an upper-coat, 
 I hurried to the house of the only physician 
 in the village. But he was away and was not 
 expected back that night. 
 
 This was terrible. Something must be done 
 immediately for the captain, and there was 
 no use in going back to him wdthout medical 
 assistance. I did not know what to do; I did 
 not know where to apply for help. Every 
 
322 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 house seemed dark and shut up, and, besides, it 
 was not the assistance of neighbors, but a doc- 
 tor, that the captain needed. 
 
 Two miles south of the village lived Dr. 
 Story. I had often passed his house, and the 
 thought now struck me that the proper thing 
 to do was to go there as fast as I could go. 
 
 So off I started through the storm. If I 
 should try to get a vehicle there would be a 
 long delay. I could get there quicker on my 
 legs than in any other way. 
 
 For a time I ran. Then I was obliged to 
 content myself with walking rapidly. The 
 rain beat down upon me, sometimes almost 
 blinding me. The wind blew as if it would 
 tear off my coat, and the road was so dark that 
 I could not see how to keep out of the mud and 
 puddles. Two or three times I came near 
 going into a ditch. 
 
 I had gone about a mile when I began to 
 feel tired and dispirited. I was walking in 
 the very teeth of the storm, and it seemed as 
 if it would be impossible for me to accomplish 
 the rest of the distance. Besides, it might be 
 of no use if I did succeed in reaching the doc- 
 tor's house. He also might be out. If I 
 turned, the wind would be behind me, and I 
 
A SAILORS KNOT 323 
 
 should soon be back in the village. But I did 
 not turn. I pressed on. 
 
 For the next ten minutes I might have im- 
 agined that some sort of a wicked angel was 
 keeping company with me and whispering into 
 my ear : 
 
 " Why do you do this, anyway? " it said. 
 " You might drop down directly, utterly ex- 
 hausted, and perish in this storm. Why do 
 you do it at all? You have done abeady a 
 great deal more than your duty. And, sup- 
 posing you do not get a doctor, and he does 
 die? You can't blame yourself, for you have 
 done all you could. And then, and then, and 
 then — think of what will happen then! " 
 
 As the wicked angel said this her voice be- 
 came so alluring and charming that I believe 
 I did make a sort of half stop. But I went on. 
 
 '^ Look over toward the right," continued 
 the wicked angel. " Do you see that light? 
 That house is only a little way from the road. 
 The people are up. They doubtless have a 
 fire and are warm. They would be glad to 
 take you in out of this storm. They will let 
 you go to bed. They will give you something 
 hot to drink. In ten minutes you can be com- 
 fortable and warm in a bed which will be de- 
 
324 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 lightful to you, no matter what sort of bed 
 it is. All you have to do is to turn and hurry 
 to that house." 
 
 But I did not turn. There was a woman in 
 this world to whom I could never confess that 
 I had failed, in any way, to do my very best 
 to keep Captain Asa Lopper in this world of 
 life. 
 
 I was almost worn-out when I arrived at 
 the house of Dr. Story. If it had been half 
 a mile farther I could not have reached it. 
 Fortunately the doctor was at home, and after 
 I had told him my errand it was not fifteen 
 minutes before we were both going back to 
 the village in a covered vehicle. 
 
 We found the captain in a very bad way. 
 He was almost unconscious. " If I had been 
 an hour later," said Dr. Story, " I do not think 
 I could have done much for him." 
 
 It was nearly a week before the captain was 
 himself again, and during that time he sold 
 milk to his neighbors. While he was confined 
 to his house I was his constant companion, and 
 my evident solicitude made an impression 
 upon him. One evening — it was the first day 
 he had been able to smoke a pipe — he said : 
 
 " IVe been thinkin' a good deal about you 
 
A SAILORS KNOT 325 
 
 lately, and about me, too. "We've got along 
 in a number one fashion here together, and it 
 seems to me as if we might get along together 
 in some other way. You ought to be doin' 
 somethin' for yourself, and you might as well 
 give up all thought o' bein' a sailor; and as 
 that's got to be given up, it ain't fair for me 
 to be askin' you to stay here much longer. 
 You've done a lot for me while you've been 
 here, but you can't do nothin' for yourself. 
 Now, what I've been thinkin' is this. I told 
 you that I've money put by. That money is 
 more'n you may suppose it is, and more'n any- 
 body supposes it is. I've always been of a 
 savin' turn of mind, and when I've got hold 
 of a penny I've known how to turn it. I^ow, 
 it seems to me that what I've got might as 
 well be turned in the lump. And it strikes me 
 that maybe you're the man to turn it." 
 
 I looked at him in surprise. I did not know 
 what he was talking about, and told him so. 
 
 " Well," said he, " this is what I'm talkin' 
 about. You're a linen merchant ; that's what 
 you are. And you're such a beastly bad sailor 
 that I think you must be a pretty good mer- 
 chant. From what you told me, the man that 
 was your partner was a pretty shackling sort 
 
326 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 of a fellow, and IVe no doubt that I would 
 make a better partner than he was. IN^ow, 
 what do you say to goin' into business again, 
 with me as partner? It couldn't be a very 
 big business at the beginnin'; but if I 'tend 
 to the money part, and you 'tend to the linen 
 part, and if you do your part as well as I've 
 seen you do things down here in this village 
 — always leavin' out anything nautical, mind 
 you — I don't see why we couldn't turn over 
 the money I've got saved up, and divide what 
 we make by tumin' it. Then you'd be in 
 business, and I'd be what they call a sleepin' 
 partner — a jolly good kind of a partner, for 
 a man of my age. Now, what do you say 
 to this?" 
 
 I shall not relate what I said to that, nor 
 what was said in the many conversations on the 
 subject which followed. But the end of it all 
 was that I went to E'ew York and made ar- 
 rangements to go into business with Captain 
 Asa as a partner, instead of Woodruff, the firm 
 name being " Eadnor & Co." 
 
 At the end of a fortnight I returned to the 
 village to report to Captain Asa what I had 
 done, and to inform him fully of the condition 
 of our young business house, in every detail of 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 327 
 
 which I knew he would be greatly interested. 
 I myself was in fairly good spirits, better than 
 I had supposed it was possible for me to be. 
 Although I must have years of labor and anx- 
 iety before me — for the captain's capital was 
 small, and my credit had received a heavy 
 blow — and although there was no reason to 
 feel sure, now that I had given up all thoughts 
 of a nautical life, that I should ever be able to 
 attain that happiness which was the only thing 
 worth working for in this world, still I felt en- 
 coui'aged and, in a degree, cheerful. There 
 was something before me which I could do, 
 and I was doing it. Furthermore, I had won 
 the good-will of a good old man. That, in 
 itself, was enough to cheer my soul. 
 
 When I reached the captain's cottage I 
 found he was not alone. Sitting near him 
 on his little piazza, and smoking with him an 
 evening pipe, was a broad-shouldered, hand- 
 some young man, whom, after the captain had 
 warmly greeted me, he introduced as his 
 nephew Tom, the son of his youngest brother. 
 
 " Now, whatever youVe got to say," re- 
 marked Captain Asa, ^^ you can say just as 
 well before Tom as not. He's in the family, 
 and he's one of us. Now, you can see for your- 
 
328 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 self that Tom is a sailor, a regular out-and-out 
 mariner. He started out in life on shipboard 
 just as soon as he left school, and he^s worked 
 his way up f aster'n anybody I know of. Now, 
 though he's barely thirty years old, he's the 
 captain of as fine a four-masted schooner as 
 you'll find on this coast, from E'ewfoundland 
 to Florida." 
 
 At these words a horrible iciness pervaded 
 my system. I could not tell myself why this 
 should be so, but it was so. Captain Tom 
 Lopper was nothing to me ; at least, he should 
 have been nothing to me. But the fact of his 
 existence affected me to such a degree that 
 Captain Asa had to ask me several times to 
 tell him what I had been doing, before I could 
 make him an adequate answer. 
 
 All the time that I was talking about the 
 house of Radnor & Co. I was thinking of Cap- 
 tain Tom Lopper. He was a bright young 
 fellow, with a bluff, hearty expression, with 
 a more refined appearance and a more cultured 
 method of expressing himself than I had been 
 accustomed to in sea-going people. He was 
 neatly dressed in a light summer suit, with 
 nothing about his clothes to suggest the sailor. 
 And yet he was plainly a sailor from crown 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 329 
 
 to heel. He did not say very mucli, but lie 
 took an earnest interest in Ms uncle's affairs, 
 and I perceived, with disapprobation, that all 
 his remarks were sensible and to the point. 
 
 I stayed over Sunday with Captain Asa, 
 and his nephew very soon made himself inti- 
 mate with me. If he had confined himself to 
 general subjects of conversation I should not 
 have objected to this. But there was only one 
 subject which seemed to interest him, at least 
 when he and I were alone, and that was his 
 uncle's marriage. Of course there could be 
 no subject in this world which I cared less to 
 discuss with him. But if he noticed this it 
 made no impression upon him. 
 
 Now, all this was in very great contrast with 
 Captain Asa's manner of treating his mar- 
 riage. He frequently spoke of Mrs. Lopper 
 to me, but always in a way which indicated 
 that we were both to consider his matrimonial 
 connection as a matter of course, satisfactory 
 to all parties and needing no discussion; and 
 he always avoided saying anything which 
 might in any way wound my feelings. In 
 fact, he showed a thoughtful consideration of 
 which I had not believed him capable. 
 
 But it was very different with Captain Tom. 
 
330 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 Coming toward me as I was standing on the 
 beach, lie laughed as he said: 
 
 " I can't help thinking all the time of this 
 queer match that Uncle Asa has made. It's 
 the funniest thing in the world to think of 
 that old man swooping down upon an engaged 
 couple, marrying the lady, and adopting the 
 man. That's what it looks like to me. Upon 
 my word I can't think of you in any other way 
 than as my uncle's son-in-law. Of course, 
 that's ridiculous, but it's the way it strikes 
 me." And then he laughed heartily. 
 
 I could not resent this sort of thing. The 
 young fellow was pleasant and good-natured, 
 and I even fancied that he had conceived a 
 liking for me. But I could not stand such 
 talk — it was impossible; and if there had been 
 a train from the village that Sunday evening 
 I should have taken it. 
 
 The next morning, at breakfast. Captain 
 Tom was in a very good-humor. He had a 
 holiday, for his ship was in the docks for re- 
 pair, and, after spending a few more days with 
 his uncle, he told me he intended to run up 
 to ^N^ew York for a week or so. 
 
 " I want to see the town," he said, " and, 
 more than that, I want to go and call on my 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 331 
 
 aunt Florence. After all I've heard about her 
 I've got the greatest kind of desire to see her." 
 
 He said a great deal more — something 
 about seeing me — but I heard none of it. 
 
 As soon as breakfast was over I took my 
 valise and started for the train. 
 
 All the way to the city I heard nothing 
 and thought of nothing but these words, " my 
 aunt Florence ! " They seemed to be glowing 
 in the sky, to be painted against the trees and 
 rocks; and if I shut my eyes, they were burned 
 into my brain. He was going to see his " aunt 
 Florence! " It was enough to drive me mad! 
 
 What happened when Captain Tom came 
 to New York I do not know. I know he 
 did come, for he called upon me twice at my 
 place of business, and left his name; but, un- 
 fortunately, I was not in either time. 
 
 My mind seemed to be continually upon the 
 subject of his visit, to the great injury of my 
 business interest. Sometimes I imagined this 
 thing, sometimes that. I knew very well that 
 Mrs. Lopper was not obliged to receive all 
 her husband's relatives, but I knew also that 
 she was kind-hearted, courteous and civil 
 to all. And why should she object to a visit 
 from the nephew of that respectable old sea- 
 
332 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 captain whom she had known nearly all her 
 life? 
 
 This latter view took the stronger hold upon 
 me, and I painted a great many mental pic- 
 tures based upon it. 
 
 One of these pictures — the one upon which 
 I worked most frequently — was this: Mrs. 
 Lopper had taken me completely and abso- 
 lutely at my word. I had desired to with- 
 draw from the engagement we had made, and 
 she considered that as a thing settled forever. 
 If I had been the man she would have liked 
 me to be I would have thrown all money con- 
 siderations in regard to her or in regard to me 
 to the wild winds, and would have declared 
 myself as ready to marry her as she was to 
 marry me. But I had withdrawn definitely, 
 no matter for what reason, and for the future 
 I was entirely out of the question. 
 
 Here now came a fine young fellow, a real 
 sea-captain. Of course, under the circum- 
 stances, she would not think of him as any- 
 thing but her husband's nephew; as such, a 
 relative by marriage. She would learn to like 
 him — I did not believe it would be very diffi- 
 cult for her to do that — and when the time 
 came when she should be free again, even if 
 
A SAILOR'8 KNOT 333 
 
 it should be years ahead, there would be the 
 man who would occupy the exact position 
 which her father desired should be occupied 
 by her husband, when he made his last will 
 and testament and conditionally left her his 
 great fortune. 
 
 As for Captain Asa, it had seemed to me 
 on my latest visit to him that he was growing 
 younger. His face was filling out, some of 
 its wrinkles had disappeared, his hair was not 
 quite so gray, he stepped about as if he did 
 not know what it was to be tired. There ap- 
 pears to be nothing which so promotes longev- 
 ity as to go out of office. I considered Bis- 
 marck; when he retired from the affairs of 
 state his life seemed to stretch out indefinitely 
 before him. Captain Asa had retired from 
 office. He was a man of leisure. He did noth- 
 ing he did not want to do. He rested as 
 much as he pleased, he ate and drank what 
 suited him; all his time was his own, and he 
 was happy and contented. 
 
 But the longer he lived the better ac- 
 quainted would Mrs. Lopper become with Cap- 
 tain Tom. Relationship by marriage would 
 gradually merge into friendship. Captain 
 Tom would see to that. And when the great 
 
334 A SAILOE'S KNOT 
 
 change in her affairs should come, the next 
 change would be something which might be 
 considered almost inevitable — at least from 
 the point of view in which I regarded it. 
 
 In one of our conversations Captain Tom 
 had said to me that I must not think that he 
 was in the least degree jealous of me on ac- 
 count of what his uncle had done in the busi- 
 ness way. 
 
 " Of course," said he, " you know that I 
 am the old man's only heir, and that at his 
 death I would have had that money he has 
 scratched together. But he has talked over 
 the whole thing with me, and I am perfectly 
 satisfied. When he dies I will inherit his 
 share in the business ; and, from what he says 
 about you, I have not the slightest doubt that 
 that will be a great deal better thing for me 
 than if I simply had the money, which I 
 should not have known how to manage as you 
 will manage it. So I want you to understand, 
 Mr. Radnor, that I am with you and uncle, and 
 am perfectly satisfied with everything that has 
 been done.'' 
 
 This was all very well for Captain Tom, 
 but if I had said I was not jealous of him I 
 should have lied most shamefully. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 335 
 
 Once or twice in the course of the early 
 summer I went down to see Captain Asa. I 
 found him a little more sedate than in former 
 days. I could not gather from his conversa- 
 tion that there was any cause for this, but I 
 could not help noticing it. 
 
 Captain Tom had not yet gone back to his 
 ship, which appeared to take a dreadfully long 
 time to repair; but I asked very few questions 
 about him, and his uncle volunteered but lit- 
 tle information. I knew he had been to see 
 Mrs. Lopper — I steadfastly kept myself up to 
 the point of thinking of her under that appel- 
 lation — but what he had thought of her and 
 what she had thought of him I did not know 
 — and I did not want to know. 
 
 Once only did the old captain make a re- 
 mark about his nephew which was of any im- 
 portance to me. 
 
 " Tom's a wild sort of fellow," he said, 
 " and he's got his head full of schemes, and 
 wants to know what I thought of his askin' 
 Mrs. Lopper and Miss Moulton to take a trip 
 down the coast in his vessel, when she's re- 
 fitted. He says they might make up a little 
 party and have a jolly time." 
 
 "And what do you think of it?" I ex- 
 claimed, eagerly, my heart sinking as I spoke. 
 
836 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 " I don't think nothin' of it," replied the 
 captain, dryly. Then, with a touch of his 
 old humor, he added, " Tom's a good deal 
 better hand at a tiller than you are, but I 
 wouldn't trust him to jump after a person over- 
 board any more'n I trust you." 
 
 " But what did you say? " I interrupted, ab- 
 ruptly. " Did you advise him to ask her? " 
 
 " All I said was," replied the old man, 
 " that if he asked her I wanted him to tell her 
 at the same time that I was agin' it, dead 
 agin' it. The fact is," said he, putting his 
 hand on my shoulder, " that if Mrs. Lopper 
 or you goes out on a sailin' vessel while I'm 
 livin', I want to be at the helm." 
 
 This remark had a strange effect upon me. 
 I could not understand it. It seemed to indi- 
 cate an interest in me, coupled with another 
 interest, which appeared inexplicable. 
 
 During the rest of that visit the old man did 
 not talk much about his nephew, but when he 
 did allude to him he spoke in a way which 
 gradually produced a suspicion in my mind. 
 Could it be possible that he was becoming 
 jealous of his nephew? 
 
 When I took leave of the captain he was 
 unusually friendly and cordial. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 337 
 
 " I'm mighty glad," lie said, " that you and 
 me's gone in^ business together. It's a good 
 thing for you because it keeps you in the kind 
 of life that suits you, and it's a good thing for 
 me because I feel that my money's goin' to 
 grow till it gets to be worth somethin' to them 
 that comes after me. As you know, I've fixed 
 it with the lawyers so that, if I die sooner'n 
 any of us expects me to, that money shan't 
 be sudd'nly drawed out of the business, leavin' 
 you swamped." 
 
 I told him that I had not forgotten all that, 
 and I assured him that I would make it the 
 object of my life to see that his money did 
 grow as he hoped it would. 
 
 " That's right," said he, as he shook hands 
 with me; " it's a good thing for a young fel- 
 low if at least one of his objects in life's like 
 that." 
 
 There seemed to be a certain good fortune 
 connected with the captain's money. The 
 business began to look very promising. Of 
 course, everything had to be done on a some- 
 what small scale, but I was naturally prudent 
 and cautious, with an eye to a good bargain, 
 and what the captain had said to me about his 
 trust in my ability to make his money grow 
 had produced a considerable effect upon me. 
 
338 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 I felt it my duty to give up making im- 
 aginary pictures about what might or might 
 not be happening here or there, with this per- 
 son or that, and to devote my mind as much 
 as possible to strict business. In spite of the 
 dulness of the trade I made some very profit- 
 able contracts, and had good reason to hope 
 that I should do still better later in the year. 
 
 Occasionally, however, I was obliged to al- 
 low my mind to wander in the direction of 
 what was to me the most engrossing interest 
 on earth, and in this connection I sometimes 
 thought that it was my duty to take steps to- 
 ward some sort of social intercourse with Mrs. 
 Lopper. We had known each other as well as 
 any two people on earth could know each 
 other. Why should we now be strangers? 
 The connection between us had been severed 
 utterly, and did not that severance annihilate 
 the past? Should not everything that was 
 gone by be treated as if it had never been? 
 Ought I to continue my friendly relations with 
 the old captain and have nothing whatever to 
 do with his wife? Did it not give reason to 
 suppose that I still encouraged feelings which 
 should be utterly suppressed? If there were 
 overtures to be made, I ought to make them. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 339 
 
 I had withdrawn — I was the one who should 
 approach again. My heart might be broken, 
 but that was no excuse for not behaving with 
 courtesy. 
 
 I reasoned a great deal in this way, but it 
 was absolutely useless. I knew that it would 
 be impossible for me to appear before the 
 woman I had once loved so passionately, and 
 behave as if I had never loved her. I was 
 willing to do my duty so far as I could, but 
 if that should be my duty, I was not equal 
 to it. 
 
 During the summer I applied myself most 
 strictly to business, living in airy uptown lodg- 
 ings, and not going to the country at all. But 
 toward the end of the season I began to feel 
 that I must see Captain Asa again. I still 
 felt, in a way, that I must take care of him, 
 that I must act the part of guardian-angel to 
 the old man. I had no reason to suppose that 
 he needed my protection, for in the few notes 
 I had received from him during the summer 
 he always said he was very well, and I knew 
 that he had given up the cultivation of cu- 
 cumbers, and that his cow had gone dry. In 
 fact, my observation during my later visits had 
 shown me that the old man was getting to be 
 very careful of himself. 
 
340 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 There was only one reason for my imagining 
 that Captain Asa needed any sort of protec- 
 tion, and that reason seemed to lie in the di- 
 rection of his nephew. I could not imagine 
 what that young sea-captain might do which 
 was not right and desirable, but it seemed to 
 me that a man of his nature must be doing — 
 or must want to be doing — things undesirable 
 and not right. 
 
 Perhaps he might induce his uncle to take 
 a cruise with him before he had made a trial 
 trip with his vessel, and that something might 
 be found to be wrong when they were far from 
 land, and that they might all go to the bottom 
 together. If such a thing had occurred, I 
 should have looked upon Captain Tom as a 
 murderer. I would not have taxed him with 
 committing a murder in his own interest, be- 
 cause it would not be right for me to charge 
 any man with such a crime as that. 
 
 But the thought of such an accident made 
 me shiver. It is terrible to think of anyone, 
 especially one honored and respected and 
 loved, as living a life the loss of which would 
 be an advantage to other people. If such a 
 life should come within the scope of our ac- 
 tion and influence, how careful we should be 
 
A SAILORS KNOT 341 
 
 to cherish, protect, and defend it, in every 
 way and at all times! 
 
 Thinking over these things, I journeyed 
 down to the seaside village, and there, to my 
 dismay, I found that Captain Asa was not at 
 home. He had left his cottage about a week 
 before, and old Jane could tell me nothing 
 about his probable destination. 
 
 " He said he was goin' off for a holiday, 
 and that's all he did say about his doin's," she 
 told me. " But he left word that if you or 
 Captain Tom came down here, you was to be 
 taken care of just the same as if he was at 
 home.'' 
 
 " And when does he expect to come back? " 
 I demanded. 
 
 " I don't know no more about that," she re- 
 plied, " than I know where he is. When the 
 captain's got anything to do, he goes along 
 and does it. Many a time, when he was a 
 younger man, he's gone off on a cruise and no- 
 body knowed where he'd gone to cruise to, and 
 when he was coming back. But when he was 
 ready his boat would sail into the bay, and that 
 would be the end of it." 
 
 I stayed at the cottage that night in a state 
 of great perplexity and anxiety. That the cap- 
 
343 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 tain should go away in this manner, without 
 telling anybody where he was going, and espe- 
 cially without telling me, his business partner, 
 who ought to know all his movements, was 
 something I could not comprehend. That 
 Captain Tom was not with him was plain 
 enough from his orders to old Jane. And that 
 he had thought it probable that I might come 
 down there seemed evident. There could be 
 no doubt that he did not want me to know 
 where he had gone. 
 
 A horrible idea crept into my mind. Could 
 it be possible that for any reason the old man 
 had determined to go away, not only from his 
 cottage and the village, but from the world? 
 At this thought a glittering, black-hearted 
 demon of a possibility rose before me, but I 
 am happy to say that I promptly assailed this 
 accursed phantom and drove it out of my 
 sight. 
 
 There was no use of my staying in the vil- 
 lage. The captain might come back soon, and 
 he might not; besides, there was reason to 
 suppose that if he returned he would prefer 
 that I should not be there upon his arrival. I 
 made old Jane promise to write to me just as 
 soon as he got back, and then I departed. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 343 
 
 For a week or more I remained in New 
 York. It was hot. It was oppressive. In 
 mind and body I felt borne down, but I could 
 not get away. While I was in this state of 
 anxiety concerning the captain, old Jane had 
 not written. 
 
 One morning I was sitting in my counting- 
 house alone, for my bookkeeper had a holiday, 
 when I was told that a lady wished to see me. 
 Almost instantly the visitor entered the room. 
 It was Miss Moulton! She was in a state of 
 great agitation, and my heart sank as I beheld 
 her. Had she heard some dreadful news about 
 the captain? 
 
 " Mr. Eadnor," she said, forgetting to 
 shake hands with me, " I have something ter- 
 rible to tell you. Please close the door, for 
 no one should hear what I have to say." 
 
 "What!'' I exclaimed; "has anything 
 happened to " 
 
 Miss Moulton interrupted me. She evi- 
 dently misunderstood the object of my anx- 
 iety. 
 
 " Oh, Florence is well," she said; " there 
 has been no accident." 
 
 I did not wonder at Miss Moulton's condi- 
 tion when I heard her tale. It was told in 
 
344 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 many words and in a disjointed way, but the 
 substance of it was that the day before the mail 
 had brought to Florence a most dreadful com- 
 munication. It was a legal document, which 
 informed her that Captain Asa Lopper had 
 gone out West and had there procured a di- 
 vorce from her, on the ground of desertion. 
 He had gone off secretly to commit this hor- 
 rible crime, but he had taken with him the 
 written testimony from people in the village 
 that he had been entirely deserted by his wife 
 ever since their marriage. The paper showed 
 that an absolute decree of divorce had been 
 obtained. Florence had been so shocked that 
 Miss Moulton thought at one time she would 
 have to send for a doctor. The blood raced 
 through my veins. My face must have blazed. 
 
 " What do you intend to do? " I cried. 
 
 " I don't know," she replied. " We have 
 sent for our lawyer, but he is out of town. 
 I thought I must come to you and tell you all 
 about it. There is no one else to whom I can 
 speak." 
 
 I sprang to my feet, furious with passion. 
 
 "What are you going to do?" she asked, 
 piteously. 
 
 " Do! " I cried, " I am going to see him. I 
 
n WAS MISS MOULTON. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 345 
 
 shall go to his cottage and shall wait there until 
 he comes back.'' 
 
 Miss Moulton was evidently frightened. 
 She begged me not to be violent, but I assured 
 her she need have no fears of that kind. 
 
 Neither of us was in a condition to talk 
 much further upon this subject. I promised 
 that I would report as soon as I found out 
 anything, and then she left me. 
 
 The first train down carried me to the vil- 
 lage by the seaside — to the house of the man 
 who had done this foul wrong to the noblest, 
 the most honorable woman in the world. 
 
 I was at a white heat with rage. I forgot 
 my relations with the old man. I only re- 
 membered how he had treated Florence. I 
 did not know that he was at his home, but 
 he must return sometime, and I would wait 
 until he came. 
 
 It was a rainy day when I reached Captain 
 Asa's cottage. I entered without knocking, 
 and found the old man smoking his pipe be- 
 fore the kitchen fire. He arose and held out 
 his hand, but I did not take it. I stood before 
 him, trembling with the vehemence of my 
 emotions. Without preface of any kind, or 
 explanation of the manner in which I had 
 
346 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 come to know of what he had done, I poured 
 out upon him all the contempt, all the indig- 
 nation which had been gathering and seething 
 within me ever since Miss Moulton had spoken 
 to me. I made no allusion to anything that 
 he had done, except this one infamous act of 
 treachery, of insult, of cruelty, of dishonesty. 
 
 Soon after I began to speak the captain sat 
 down, held his pipe in his hand without smok- 
 ing it, and listened attentively. When I had 
 finished, for want of words and breath, he 
 said, without any show of emotion: 
 
 " Now, I want you to know that I'm very 
 glad to hear you talk like that. If you had 
 talked in any other way I would have had a 
 very different opinion of you from what I've 
 got now. There may be some sense in what 
 you say, and it may be that there isn't any. 
 It shows you've got the right spirit, and I 
 wouldn't want to think of you as a fellow who 
 hadn't got the right spirit. And now, if you 
 are pretty well played out as far as talkin' 
 goes, I'll have a word to say; and I advise 
 you to take a chair." But I would not sit 
 down. I stood and listened to him. 
 
 " You're fiery mad," said he, " and I'm glad 
 of it. And I expect that Mrs. Lopper that 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 347 
 
 was is fiery mad, too. I'm sorry for that, for 
 I wouldn't do anything to disturb her mind 
 if I could help doin' it. As for her aunt, I 
 expect she's simply blazin'. But it couldn't 
 be helped. There wasn't no other way to do 
 it. The whole business was goin' on in such a 
 way that I couldn't stand it. I felt that I 
 wasn't carryin' on my part of the bargain as I 
 expected to carry it on. Every day I felt 
 livelier and tougher. Every day my nephew 
 Tom, when he was here, said to me in the 
 mornin' when he come down, ' Uncle, you're 
 lookin' younger than you was yesterday.' 
 And I don't wonder that he said so, for I felt 
 it. 
 
 " ^ow, I was mighty glad that all this was 
 so. This world suits me fust-rate, and I want 
 to stay in it as long as I can. But I felt kind 
 o' mean. I knew that I wasn't standin' up to 
 what might reasonably be expected of me, and 
 that's a thing that's never happened to me 
 before. But I want you to understand that 
 when I was thinkin' in this way, I wasn't 
 thinkin' of Mrs. Lopper that was, then, as much 
 as I was thinkin' of you. For a good while 
 I've had a powerful feelin' for you. It had 
 a pretty bad upset that day when we were out 
 
348 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 on the bay, but after you fished me out of the 
 water, and after you lived with me as you 
 did live with me, and did the things you did 
 do, that feelin' grew powerfuller and power- 
 fuller. 
 
 " And then there was another thing that 
 troubled me, and that concerned my nephew 
 Tom. He's a good fellow, but I don't know 
 so very much about him — he's been away to 
 sea most of his life; and as to Mrs. Lopper 
 that was, I don't know so very much about 
 her. I knowed her father, and I'd seen her 
 off and on ever since she was a little girl ; but 
 as for her inside mind, of course I couldn't 
 be expected to know about that. And so, 
 when Tom had been to see her two or three 
 times, and come here talkin' about her as he 
 did talk, it made me more uncomfortable than 
 I was before. 
 
 " E'ow, Tom's got nothin' to complain of 
 about me. When I die he'll have a share of 
 the business, unless you choose to buy him out. 
 So, as I felt that I didn't owe him nothin', 
 I didn't like the idee of that young fellow 
 gettin' any notions into his mind that wasn't 
 intended to be there when I got up this plan 
 of savin' Captain Brewer's money for his 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 349 
 
 daughter, and givin' myself at the same time 
 a comfortable income without being obliged 
 to work or to draw on my savin's. I didn't 
 want Tom to put his foot into this business. 
 But the more I thought about it the more 
 likely it seemed to me that he might put his 
 foot into it. 
 
 " Then, again, it looked to me as if you were 
 gettin' a little more humble than you was — '• 
 a little more like not holdin' out — a little more 
 like givin' yourself up to your business and 
 tryin' to forget things which had gone wrong 
 and which might never come straight again. 
 I didn't want you to do that. It made me feel 
 as if I'd tried to mend somethin' and had 
 broken it all to smash. 
 
 " ^ So,' said I to myself, * this thing's got to 
 be brought up with a round turn.' Then I 
 found out everything I could, went out West, 
 and brought it up with a round turn. I 
 didn't ask anybody to agree, because I knowed 
 nobody would agree. And I didn't tell any- 
 body about it, because I knowed they'd try 
 to stop it; but I wanted to do it and I didn't 
 intend it to be stopped. 
 
 " l^ow it's done, hard and fast, and no 
 goin' back. That young woman you used to 
 
360 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 walk about with on the sands down here hasn't 
 got no husband. She's just as free as air — 
 unless she considers herself bound to pay me 
 two dollars a day for the rest of my life, and 
 I'm inclined to think she'd feel that way, for 
 our bargain said that I was to have the money 
 as long as I live, without mentionin' anything 
 that might happen in the meantime. And 
 I'm just as free as — well — just as free as 
 water. I can do what I please, and what any- 
 body else does is no concern of mine — at least, 
 I can't prevent it. As for you, I can't say that 
 I consider you free at all — at least, accordin' 
 to my way of thinkin' ; " and as he said this he 
 looked at me with a kindly grin. " I^o, sir, 
 you're the only one of the whole business that's 
 bound to do anything. And I don't think your 
 duty is goin' to weigh very heavy on you." 
 
 It was impossible for me to be angry with 
 this old marine angel. The crime with which 
 I had come down here to charge him and to 
 punish him for doing (if there were any way 
 in which punishment could be inflicted) had 
 been done for me. I held out my hand to him 
 and begged his pardon for what I had said, 
 at all of which he pooh-poohed, and filled me 
 a pipe. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 351 
 
 I stayed a day with Captain Asa, and then 
 both he and I agreed that it was my duty to 
 go back to New York and report the result of 
 my interview with him. He did not give me 
 many injunctions. I understood the whole 
 story, he said, and I must make the best of it. 
 
 On my way back to the city my brain did 
 as much working as the locomotive which drew 
 the train. I was going to see Florence ! And 
 now that I had business with her — now that 
 I had to explain a crime which had been com- 
 mitted against her, and to defend the perpe- 
 trator of that crime so far as I might — I felt 
 that I could see her and speak to her. 
 
 As to the duty of which Captain Asa had 
 good-naturedly twitted me, I determined to be 
 strong and brave and to set that entirely aside. 
 How Florence might feel toward me I could 
 not tell. Perhaps she might charge me with 
 complicity in this indignity which had been 
 thrust upon her. But even if she held me 
 innocent of this, she may have changed en- 
 tirely her former opinion of me. I had de- 
 liberately renounced her. Now, even if it be 
 for her own good, I know that a woman re- 
 sents the rejection of her freely offered love. 
 She would prefer to have that love accepted, 
 
352 A SAILORS KNOT 
 
 no matter what misfortune it might bring upon 
 her. 
 
 But, let Florence think of me as she would, 
 I had determined upon one course. I would 
 begin again, at the very beginning. I would 
 consider all that had happened as something 
 which had passed and which had no influence 
 upon me. I would take no advantage of any- 
 thing she had ever said to me. I would go to 
 her as a friend — as an envoy. If afterward 
 she would allow me to become her lover, this 
 world would become Paradise. But I would 
 presume upon nothing. One reflection gave 
 me great comfort — I should not go to her as a 
 pauper, asking to share in her fortune. The 
 great goodness of the captain had made it pos- 
 sible for me to present myself as a young mer- 
 chant with a fair chance of success before 
 him. 
 
 With all these reasons and resolutions I 
 thoroughly fortifled myself. I had taken my 
 position and I intended to make it plain ex- 
 actly where I stood. 
 
 "When I reached the New York house I in- 
 quired for Miss Moulton. Of course I must 
 see her first, because she had sent me to the 
 captain, and I must make my report to her. 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 353 
 
 But before I did anything else I must make 
 inquiries about Florence. I had had many 
 anxieties regarding the possible result of the 
 great blow which had been dealt her. 
 
 Miss Moulton was at home. I sent up my 
 card and was shown into the parlor. In a 
 very few minutes someone entered by a side 
 door. I turned quickly. It was Florence. 
 
 I stood speechless as she advanced. As all 
 the events of his life rush to the mind of a 
 drowning man, so into my mind rushed a long 
 procession of the things which I had intended 
 to say to Miss Moulton, and which I must now 
 say to Florence. It was a terrible emergency. 
 Without warning, without an instant to pre- 
 pare myself, I must treat this heavenly beauty 
 as a middle-aged spinster to whom I had come 
 to make a report. 
 
 It is astonishing how I remembered every- 
 thing that I had arranged to say ; how all these 
 statements, these reasons, these explanations, 
 ranged themselves in perfect order according 
 to their proper precedence. And it is still 
 more astonishing how instantaneously, abso- 
 lutely, and utterly they all disappeared from 
 existence. In two seconds they had come and 
 gone. 
 
364 A SAILOR'S KNOT 
 
 In her light muslins Florence was more 
 lovely than ever. Her eyes were bright. She 
 came to me with her hand outstretched. I 
 put out my hand; then the other, without 
 volition on my part, extended itself. I stepped 
 to meet her, and in a moment she was clasped 
 to my breast. As if it had been yesterday 
 that we two had wandered on the sands, we 
 sat down side by side, hand in hand. After a 
 little she told me, with tears in her eyes, that 
 nothing in this world could be more surpris- 
 ing than that this had happened as it did hap- 
 pen. But it had happened. It was some- 
 thing with which neither of us had anything 
 to do. 
 
 It must have been half an hour after this 
 that I felt myself bound to call together the 
 array of statements and facts which I had 
 come here to report. But as soon as I began 
 to speak about the captain Florence stopped 
 me. She would not hear of him. !No matter 
 what he had done or why he had done it, 
 she could not forgive him. So curious is the 
 mind of woman ! She accepted the great hap- 
 piness which he had given her, because there 
 was nothing for her to do but to accept it. 
 But she would not pardon him for having 
 
A SAILOR'S KNOT 366 
 
 given it. However, I pardoned him for both 
 of us, and I loved him for myself. 
 
 For some years after we were married Cap- 
 tain Asa Lopper continued to be a hearty old 
 man. He had an income of two dollars a day, 
 and appeared to be eminently satisfied with 
 what life had given him. I frequently v^rote 
 him concerning our business, and I made it a 
 point to pay him an occasional visit. But 
 Florence never went with me. She never for- 
 got that he gave us to each other, but also she 
 never forgot how he did it. 
 
 Good fortune seemed to attend the captain's 
 money. The affairs of the firm of Radnor 
 & Co. improved rapidly. Moreover, we had 
 another partner, for some of Florence's for- 
 tune was invested in the business. 
 
 I now felt quite able to buy out Captain Asa 
 and keep the business in my family. But I 
 would not do so. I knew that it delighted his 
 old soul to know that his money was gradually 
 increasing, without labor of his own, and I 
 would not deprive him of this reward for all 
 that he had done for others. When I visited 
 
356 A SAILORS KNOT 
 
 him he never complained of Florence's atti- 
 tude toward him. 
 
 " I don't blame her," he once said; " in fact 
 I wouldn't think as much of her as I do if she 
 did different. I married her fairly and square- 
 ly, and I unmarried her unfairly. She's down 
 on that sort of thing, and that's just what she 
 ought to be, and we're satisfied all around." 
 
 All of this happened a good while ago, and 
 the dear old captain is now dead. I have 
 bought out his share of the business from Cap- 
 tain Tom, who was very glad to be thus en- 
 abled to become the owner of a new ship. 
 
 Florence and I have built a pretty cottage 
 near the beach where we first found out what 
 we were to each other, and if the marine angel 
 who did so much for us during his life has any 
 power to influence our welfare now, I am sure 
 he is exerting it, for I don't see how any two 
 people could be happier than we are. 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE AT 
 LANDOVER HALL 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE AT 
 LANDOVER HALL 
 
 1WAS spending a few days in the little vil- 
 lage of Landover, simply for the purpose 
 of enjoying the beautiful scenery of the neigh- 
 borhood. I had come up from Mexico be- 
 cause the weather was growing too warm in 
 that region, and I was glad of the chance to 
 vary my interesting and sometimes exciting 
 travels with a little rest in the midst of this 
 rural quiet. 
 
 It was early summer, and I had started out 
 for an afternoon walk, when, just upon the 
 outskirts of the village, my attention was at- 
 tracted by a little group at a gateway which 
 opened upon the road. There were two wom- 
 en and an elderly man. The women appeared 
 to be taking leave of the man, and one of 
 them frequently put her handkerchief to her 
 eyes. I walked slowly, because I did not wish 
 to intrude upon what seemed to be an affect- 
 869 
 
360 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 ing leave-taking; so when I reached the gate 
 the women had gone, but the man was still 
 standing there, looking after them. 
 
 Glancing over the low fence, I saw a very 
 pretty grove, apparently not well kept, and 
 some distance back, among the trees, a large, 
 old house. The man was looking at me with 
 a curiosity which country people naturally be- 
 tray when they see a stranger, and, as I was 
 glad to have someone to talk to, I stopped. 
 
 " Is this one of the old family mansions of 
 Landover? " I asked. He was a good-looking 
 man, with the air of a head gardener. 
 
 " It is not one of them, sir," he answered; 
 " it is the only one in the village. It is called 
 Landover Hall, and the other houses growed 
 up around it." 
 
 " Who owns it? " I asked. 
 
 " That is hard to say, sir," he said, with a 
 grim smile; " though perhaps I could tell you 
 in the course of a couple of weeks. The fam- 
 ily who lived there is dead and gone, and 
 everything in it is to be sold at auction." 
 
 I became interested, and asked some ques- 
 tions, which the man was very willing to an- 
 swer. It was an old couple who had owned it, 
 he said. The husband had died the previous 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 361 
 
 year, and the wife about ten days ago. The 
 heirs were a brother and sister living out in 
 Colorado, and, as they had never seen the 
 house, and cared nothing about it, or about 
 anything that was in it, they had written that 
 they wished everything to be sold, and the 
 money sent to them as soon as possible. 
 
 ^' And that is the way it stands," said the 
 old man. " I^ext week there is to be a sale 
 of the personal property — a ^ vandoo ' we call 
 it out here — and every movable thing in the 
 house and grounds is to be sold to the highest 
 bidder; and mighty little the things will 
 bring, it's my opinion. Then the house will 
 be sold, as soon as anybody can be found who 
 wants it." 
 
 ^' Then there is no one living in the house 
 at present ? " said I. 
 
 " I^obody but me," he answered. " That 
 was the cook and her daughter, the chamber- 
 maid, who just left here. There is a black man 
 who attends to the horses and cows, but he 
 will go when they are sold; and very soon I 
 will go too, I suppose." 
 
 " Have you lived here long? " I asked. 
 
 " Pretty near all my life," said he. 
 
 I was greatly interested in old houses, and 
 I asked the man if I might look at the place. 
 
362 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 " I have not had any orders to show it," he 
 said; "but, as everything is for sale, I sup- 
 pose the sooner people see the household goods 
 the better; there's many a bit of old furniture, 
 candlesticks, and all that sort of thing, which 
 strangers might like to buy. Oh, yes; you 
 can come in if you like." 
 
 I shall not attempt to describe the delightful 
 hour I spent in that old house and in the sur- 
 rounding grounds. There was a great piazza 
 in front; a wide hall stretched into the in- 
 terior of the mansion, with a large fireplace 
 on one side and a noble staircase at the further 
 end, a single flight of stairs running up to a 
 platform, and then branching off on each side 
 to the second floor. On the landing stood one 
 of the tallest clocks I have ever seen. There 
 were portraits on the walls, and here and there 
 a sporting picture, interspersed with antlers 
 and foxes' heads mounted on panels, with the 
 date of the hunt inscribed beneath. There was 
 an air of largeness and gravity about the fur- 
 niture in the hall, which was very pleasing to 
 me, and when I entered the long drawing- 
 room I found it so filled with books and bric- 
 a-brac of the olden days, with many quaint 
 furnishings, that, had I been left to myself, 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 363 
 
 even the long summer afternoon would not 
 have sufficed for their examination. Upstairs 
 was the same air of old-fashioned comfort. 
 The grounds — the grass rather long, and the 
 bushes untrimmed — were shaded by some 
 grand old trees, and beyond there were gardens 
 and some green pasture-fields. 
 
 I did not take the walk that I had proposed 
 to myself. When I left the old house I in- 
 quired the name of the agent who had charge 
 of the estate, and then I went back to the vil- 
 lage inn, where I sat communing with myself 
 for the rest of the afternoon and all the even- 
 ing. 
 
 I was not yet thirty, I had a good fortune, 
 and I had travelled until I was tired of moving 
 about the world. Often I had had visions of 
 a home, but they had been very vague and 
 fanciful ones. ISTow, for the first time in my 
 life, I had seen a home for which I really 
 might care; a house to which I might bring 
 only my wearing apparel, and then sit down 
 surrounded by everything I needed, not even 
 excepting books. 
 
 Immediately after breakfast I repaired to 
 the office of Mr. Marchmay, the lawyer who 
 had charge of the property. I stayed there a 
 
364 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 long time. Mr. Marchmay took dinner with 
 me at the inn, and in the evening we sent a 
 telegram to Colorado. I made a proposition to 
 buy everything for cash, and the price agreed 
 upon between Mr. Marchmay and myself 
 was considerably higher than could have been 
 expected had the property been sold at auction. 
 It is needless to say that my offer was quickly 
 accepted, and in less than a week from the day 
 I had first seen the old house I became its 
 owner. The cook and the housemaid, who had 
 retired in tears from its gateway, were sent for, 
 and reinstalled in their offices ; the black man 
 who had charge of the horses and cows con- 
 tinued to take care of them, and old Kobert 
 Flake was retained in the position of head 
 gardener and general caretaker, which he had 
 held for so many years. 
 
 That summer was a season of delight to me, 
 and even when autumn arrived, and there was 
 a fire in the great hall, I could not say that I 
 had fully explored and examined my home 
 and its contents. I had had a few bachelor 
 friends to visit me, but for the greater part of 
 the time I had lived alone. I liked company, 
 and expected to have people about me, but 
 so long as the novelty of my new possessions 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 366 
 
 and my new position continued I was company 
 enough for myself. 
 
 At last the holiday season came around, and 
 I was still alone. I had invited a family of 
 old friends to come and make the house lively 
 and joyous, but they had been prevented from 
 doing so. I afterward thought of asking some 
 of my neighbors to eat their Christmas dinner 
 in the old house, but I found that they all had 
 ties and obligations of their own with which 
 I should not seek to interfere. And thus it 
 happened that late on Christmas eve I sat by 
 myself before a blazing fire in the hall, quietly 
 smoking my pipe. The servants were all in 
 bed, and the house was as quiet as if it con- 
 tained no living being. 
 
 For the first time since I lived in that house 
 I began to feel lonely, and I could not help 
 smiling when I thought that there was no need 
 of my feeling lonely if I wished it otherwise. 
 For several years I had known that there were 
 mothers in this country, and even in other 
 countries, who had the welfare of their daugh- 
 ters at heart, and who had not failed to let me 
 know the fact; I had also known that there 
 were young women, without mothers, who had 
 their own welfare at heart, and to whom a 
 
366 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 young man of fortune was an object of inter- 
 est; but there was nothing in these recollec- 
 tions which interested me in these lonely mo- 
 ments. 
 
 The great clock on the landing-place began 
 to strike, and I counted stroke after stroke; 
 when there were twelve I turned to see 
 whether I had made a mistake, and if it were 
 now really Christmas day. But before my 
 eyes had reached the face of the clock I saw 
 that I was mistaken in supposing myself alone. 
 At the top of the broad flight of stairs there 
 stood a lady. 
 
 I pushed back my chair and started to my 
 feet. I know my mouth was open and my 
 eyes staring. I could not speak; I doubt if I 
 breathed. 
 
 Slowly the lady descended the stairs. There 
 were two tall lamps on the newel-posts, so that 
 I could see her distinctly. She was young, and 
 she moved with the grace of perfect health. 
 Her gown was of an olden fashion, and her 
 hair was dressed in the style of our ancestors. 
 Her attire was simple and elegant, but it was 
 evident that she was dressed for a festive oc- 
 casion. 
 
 Down she came, step by step, and I stood 
 
MR. MARCHMAY TOOK DINNER WITH ME AT THE INN. 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 367 
 
 gazing, not only with mj eyes, but, I may say, 
 with my whole heart. I had never seen such 
 grace; I had never seen such beauty. 
 
 She reached the floor, and advanced a few 
 steps toward me ; then she stopped. She fixed 
 her large eyes upon me for a moment, and then 
 turned them away. She gazed at the fire, the 
 walls, the ceiling, and the floor. There came 
 upon her lovely features an almost impercep- 
 tible smile, as though it gave her pleasure thus 
 to stand and look about her. 
 
 As for me, I was simply entranced. Vision 
 or no vision, spirit from another world or sim- 
 ply a mist of fancy, it mattered not. 
 
 She approached a few steps nearer, and fixed 
 her eyes upon mine. I trembled as I stood. 
 Involuntarily the wish of my heart came to 
 my lips. " If " I exclaimed. 
 
 " If what? " she asked, quickly. 
 
 I was startled by the voice. It was rich, it 
 was sweet, but there was something in its in- 
 tonation which suggested the olden time. I 
 cannot explain it. It was like the perfume 
 from an ancient wardrobe opened a hundred 
 years after a great-grandmother had closed 
 and locked it, when even the scent of rose and 
 lavender was only the spirit of something gone. 
 
368 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 " Oh, if you were but real! " I said. 
 
 She smiled, but made no reply. Slowly she 
 passed around the great hall, coming so near 
 me at one time that I could almost have 
 touched her. She looked up at the portraits, 
 stopping before some old candlesticks upon a 
 bracket, apparently examining everything 
 with as much pleasure as I had looked upon 
 them when first they became mine. 
 
 When she had made the circuit of the hall, 
 she stood as if reflecting. Fearful that she 
 might disappear, and knowing that a spirit 
 must be addressed if one would hear it speak, 
 I stepped toward her. I had intended to ask 
 her if she were, or rather ever had been, the 
 lady of this house, why she came, and if she 
 bore a message, but in my excitement and in- 
 fatuation I forgot my purpose; I simply re- 
 peated my former words — " Oh, if you were 
 but real!" 
 
 ^^ Why do you say that? " she asked, with a 
 little gentle petulance. " I am not real, as you 
 must know. Shall I tell you who I was, and 
 why I am here ? " 
 
 I implored her to do so. She drew a little 
 nearer the fire. " It is so bright and cheer- 
 ful," she said. " It is many, many years since 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 369 
 
 I have seen a fire in this hall. The old people 
 who lived in this house so long never built a 
 fire here — at least on Christmas eve." 
 
 I felt inclined to draw up a chair and ask 
 her to sit down, but why need a ghost sit? I 
 was afraid of making some mistake. I stood 
 as near her as I dared, eagerly ready to listen. 
 
 *^ I was mistress of this house," she said. 
 " That was a long, long time ago. You can 
 see my portrait hanging there." 
 
 I bowed. I could not say that it was her 
 portrait. An hour before, I had looked upon 
 it as a fine picture; now it seemed to be the 
 travesty of a woman beyond the reach of pig- 
 ments and canvas. 
 
 " I died," she continued, " when I was but 
 twenty-five, and but four years married. I 
 had a little girl three years old, and the very 
 day before I left this world I led her around 
 this hall and tried to make her understand 
 the pictures. That is her portrait on this other 
 wall." 
 
 I turned, and following the direction of her 
 graceful hand my eyes fell upon the picture 
 of an elderly lady with silvered hair and be- 
 nignant countenance. 
 
 " Your daughter? " I gasped. 
 
370 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 " Yes," she answered ; " she lived many 
 years after my death. Over there, nearer the 
 door, you may see the picture of her daughter 
 — the plump young girl with the plumed hat." 
 
 !N'ow, to my great surprise, she asked me 
 to take a seat. " It seems ungracious," she re- 
 marked, " that in my own house I should be so 
 inhospitable as to keep you standing. And 
 yet it is not my house; it is yours." 
 
 Obedient to her command, for such I felt 
 it to be, I resumed my seat, and to my delight 
 she took a chair not far from me. Seated, she 
 seemed more graceful and lovely than when 
 she stood. Her shapely hands lay in her lap; 
 soft lace fell over them, like tender mist upon 
 a cloud. As she looked at me her eyes were 
 raised. 
 
 " Does it distress you that this house should 
 now be mine? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, no, no," she answered, with anima- 
 tion ; " I am very glad of it. The elderly 
 couple who lived here before you were not to 
 my liking. Once a year, on Christmas eve, 
 I am privileged to spend one hour in this 
 house, and, although I have never failed to be 
 here at the appointed time, it has been years, 
 as I told you, since I saw a fire on that hearth 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 371 
 
 and a living being in this hall. I knew you 
 were here, and I am very glad of it. It pleases 
 me greatly that one is living here who prizes 
 this old place as I once prized it. This man- 
 sion was built for me by my husband, upon 
 the site of a smaller house, which he removed. 
 The grounds about it, which I thought so 
 lovely, are far more lovely now. For four 
 years I lived here in perfect happiness, and 
 now one hour each year something of that hap- 
 piness is renewed.'' 
 
 Ordinarily I have good control of my ac- 
 tions and of my emotions, but at this moment 
 I seemed to have lost all power over myself; 
 my thoughts ran wild. To my amazement, I 
 became conscious that I was falling in love — 
 in love with something which did not exist; in 
 love with a woman who once had been. It was 
 absurd; it was ridiculous; but there was no 
 power within me which could prevent it. 
 
 After all, this rapidly growing passion was 
 not altogether absurd. She was an ideal which 
 far surpassed any ideal I had ever formed for 
 the mistress of my home. More than that, she 
 had really been the mistress of this house, 
 which was now my home. Here was a vision 
 of the past, fully revealed to my eyes. As the 
 
372 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 sweet voice fell upon my ears, how could I 
 help looking upon it as something real, listen- 
 ing to it as something real, and loving it as 
 something real. 
 
 I think she perceived my agitation; she 
 looked upon me wonderingly. 
 
 " I hoped very much," she said, " that you 
 would be in this hall when I should come down 
 to-night, but I feared that I should disturb 
 you, that perhaps I might startle or — — " 
 
 I could not restrain myself. I rose and in- 
 terrupted her with passionate earnestness. 
 
 " Startle or trouble me ! " I exclaimed. 
 " Oh, gracious lady, you have done but one 
 thing to me to-night — you have made me love 
 you! Pardon me; I cannot help it. Do not 
 speak of impossibilities, of passionate ravings, 
 of unmeaning words. Lady, I love you; I 
 may not love you as you are, but I love you 
 as you were. ITo happiness on earth could 
 equal that of seeing you real — the mistress of 
 this house, and myself the master." 
 ~~^ She rose, drew back a little, and stood look- 
 ing at me. If she had been true flesh and 
 blood she could not have acted more naturally. 
 
 For some moments there was silence, and 
 then a terrible thought came into my heado 
 
THE GREAT 8TAIR0A8E 373 
 
 Had I a right to speak to her thus, even if she 
 were but the vision of something that had 
 been ? She had told me of her husband ; she 
 had spoken of her daughter; but she had said 
 no word which would give me reason to be- 
 lieve that little girl was fatherless when her 
 mother led her around the hall and explained 
 to her the family portraits. Had I been ad- 
 dressing my wild words of passion to one whose 
 beauty and grace, when they were real and 
 true, belonged to another? Had I spoken as 
 I should not have spoken, even to the vision of 
 a well-loved wife? I trembled with appre- 
 hension. 
 
 " Pardon me," I said, " if I have been im- 
 prudent. Kemember that I know so little 
 about you, even as you were.'' 
 
 When she answered there was nothing of 
 anger in her tone, but she spoke softly, and 
 with, I thought, a shade of pity. 
 
 " You have said nothing to offend me, but 
 every word you have spoken has been so wild 
 and so far removed from sense and reason that 
 I am unable to comprehend your feelings." 
 
 " They are easy to understand ! " I ex- 
 claimed. " I have seen my ideal of the woman 
 I could love. I love you; that is all! Again 
 
374 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 I say it, and I say it with all my heart: , Would 
 you were real ! Would you were real ! '* 
 
 She smiled. I am sure now she understood 
 my passion. I am sure she expected it. I am 
 sure that she pitied me. 
 
 Suddenly a change of expression came over 
 her face; a beaming interest shone from her 
 eyes; she took some steps toward me. 
 
 " I told you," said she, speaking quickly, 
 " that what you have said seems to be without 
 sense or reason, and yet it may mean some- 
 thing. I assure you that your words have been 
 appreciated. I know that each one of them is 
 true and comes from your heart. And now 
 
 listen to me while I tell you " At that 
 
 moment the infernal clock upon the landing- 
 place struck one. It was like the crash of 
 doom. I stood alone in the great hall. 
 
 The domestics in that old house supposed 
 that I spent Christmas day alone; but they 
 were mistaken, for wherever I went my fancy 
 pictured near me the beautiful vision of the 
 night before. She walked with me in the crisp 
 morning air; I led her through the quiet old 
 rooms, and together we went up the great stair- 
 case and stood before the clock — the clock 
 that I had blessed for striking twelve and 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 375 
 
 cursed for striking one. At dinner she sat 
 opposite me in a great chair which I had had 
 placed there — " for the sake of symmetry," as 
 I told my servants. After what had happened, 
 it was impossible for me to be alone. 
 
 The day after Christmas old Mr. Marchmay 
 came to call upon me. He was so sorry that I 
 had been obliged to spend Christmas day all 
 by myself. I fairly laughed as I listened to 
 him. 
 
 There were things I wanted him to tell 
 me if he could, and I plied him with ques- 
 tions. I pointed to the portrait of the lady 
 near the chimney-piece, and asked him who 
 she was. 
 
 " That is Mrs. Evelyn Heatherton, first mis- 
 tress of this house; I have heard a good deal 
 about her. She was very unfortunate. She 
 lost her life here in this hall on Christmas eve. 
 She was young and beautiful, and must have 
 looked a good deal like that picture.'' 
 
 I forgot myself. " I don't believe it," I 
 said. " It does not seem to me that that por- 
 trait could have been a good likeness of the real 
 woman." 
 
 " You may know more about art than I do, 
 sir," said he. " It has always been considered 
 
376 THE GREAT STAIROASE 
 
 a fine picture; but of course she lived before 
 my time. As I was saying, she died here in 
 this hall. She was coming down stairs on 
 Christmas eve; there were a lot of people here 
 in the hall waiting to meet her. She stepped 
 on something on one of the top steps — a child's 
 toy, perhaps — and lost her footing. She fell 
 to the bottom and was instantly killed — killed 
 in the midst of youth, health, and beauty." 
 
 " And her husband," I remarked, " was 
 he " 
 
 " Oh, he was dead ! " interrupted Mr. 
 Marchmay. " He died when his daughter was 
 but a mere baby. By the way," said the old 
 gentleman, " it seems rather funny that the 
 painting over there — that old lady with the 
 gray hair — is the portrait of that child. It is 
 the only one there is, I suppose." 
 
 I did not attend to these last words. My 
 face must have glowed with delight as I 
 thought that I had not spoken to her as I 
 should not. If I had known her to be real, 
 I might have said everything which I had said 
 to the vision of what she had been. 
 I The old man went on talking about the fam- 
 ily. I That sort of thing interested him very 
 much, and he said that, as I owned the house, 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 377 
 
 I ought to know everything about the people 
 who formerly lived there. The Heathertons 
 had not been fortunate. They had lost a great 
 deal of money, and, some thirty years before, 
 the estate had passed out of their hands and 
 had been bought by a Mr. Kennard, a distant 
 connection of the family, who, with his wife, 
 had lived there until very recently. It was to 
 a nephew and niece of old Mr. Kennard that 
 the property had descended. The Heathertons 
 had nothing more to do with it. 
 
 " Are there any members of the family 
 left? 'tasked. 
 
 ^' Oh yes! " said Mr. Marchmay. " Do you 
 see that portrait of a girl with a feather in her 
 hat? She is a granddaughter of that Evelyn 
 Heatherton up there. She is an old woman 
 now and a widow, and she it was who sold the 
 place to the Kennards. When the mortgages 
 were paid she did not have much left, but she 
 manages to live on it. But I tell you what you 
 ought to do, sir: you ought to go to see her. 
 She can tell you lots of stories of this place, 
 for she knows more about the Heathertons 
 than anyone living.^ She married a distant 
 cousin, who had the lamily name; but he was 
 a poor sort of a fellow, and he died some fif- 
 
378 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 teen years ago. She has talked to me aUout 
 your having the old house, and she said that 
 she hoped you would not make changes and 
 tear down things. But of course she would 
 not say anything like that to you; she is a 
 lady who attends to her own business." 
 
 "Where does she live?" I asked. "I 
 should like, above all things, to go and talk 
 to her." 
 
 " It is the third house beyond the church," 
 said Mr. Marchmay. " I am sure she will 
 be glad to see you. If you can make up your 
 mind to listen to long stories about the Heath- 
 ertons you will give her pleasure." 
 
 The next day I made the call. The house 
 was neat, but small and unpretentious — a great 
 drop from the fine hall I now possessed. 
 
 The servant informed me that Mrs. Heath- 
 erton was at home, and I was shown into the 
 little parlor — light, warm, and pleasantly 
 furnished. In a few minutes the door opened, 
 and I rose, but no old lady entered. 
 
 Struck dumb by breathless amazement, I 
 beheld Evelyn Heatherton coming into the 
 room ! 
 
 I could not understand; my thoughts ran 
 wild. Had someone been masquerading? 
 
THE GREAT STAIRCASE 379 
 
 Had I dreamed on Christmas eve, or was I 
 dreaming now? Had my passionate desire 
 been granted? Had that vision become 
 real? I was instantly convinced that what I 
 saw before me was true and real, for the lady 
 advanced toward me and held out her hand. 
 I took it, and it was the hand of an actual 
 woman. 
 
 Her mother, she said, begged that I would 
 excuse her; she was not well and was lying 
 down. Mr. Marchmay had told them that I 
 was coming, and that I wanted to know some- 
 thing about the old house ; perhaps she might 
 be able to give me a little information. 
 
 Almost speechless, I sat down, and she took 
 a chair not far from me. Her position was 
 exactly that which had been taken by the vis- 
 ion of her great-grandmother on Christmas 
 eve. Her hands were crossed in her lap, and 
 her large blue eyes were slightly upraised to 
 mine. She was not dressed in a robe of olden 
 days, nor was her hair piled up high on her 
 head in by-gone fashion, but she was Evelyn 
 Heatherton, in form and feature and in quiet 
 grace. She was some years younger, and she 
 lacked the dignity of a woman who had been 
 married, but she was no stranger to me; I had 
 seen her before. 
 
380 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 Encouraged by my rapt attention, she told 
 me stories of the old house where her mother 
 had been born, and all that she knew of her 
 great-grandmother she related with an interest 
 that was almost akin to mine. '^ People tell 
 me,'' she said, " that I am growing to look like 
 her, and I am glad of it, for my mother gave 
 me her name." 
 
 I sat and listened to the voice of this beauti- 
 ful girl, as I had listened to the words which 
 had been spoken to me by the vision of her 
 ancestress. If I had not known that she was 
 real, and that there was no reason why she 
 should vanish when the clock should strike, I 
 might have spoken as I spoke to her great- 
 grandmother. I remained entranced, en- 
 raptured, and it was only when the room be- 
 gan to grow dark that I was reminded that it 
 was incumbent upon me to go. 
 
 But I went again, again, and again, and af- 
 ter a time it so happened that I was in that 
 cottage at least once every day. The old lady 
 was very gracious; it was plain enough that 
 her soul was greatly gratified to know that the 
 present owner of her old home — the house in 
 which she had been born — was one who de- 
 lighted to hear the family stories, and who 
 respected all their traditions. 
 
THE GREAT STAIRGASE 381 
 
 I need not tell the story of Evelyn and my- 
 self. My heart had been filled with a vision 
 of her personality before I had seen her. At 
 the first moment of our meeting my love for 
 her sprung into existence as the flame bursts 
 from a match. And she could not help but 
 love me. Few women, certainly not Evelyn 
 Heatherton, could resist the passionate affec- 
 tion I offered her. She did not tell me this 
 in words, but it was not long before I came 
 to believe it. 
 
 It was one afternoon in spring that old Mrs. 
 Heatherton and her daughter came to visit 
 m6 in my house — the home of their ancestors. 
 As I walked with them through the halls and 
 rooms I felt as if they were the ladies of the 
 manor, and that I was the recipient of their 
 kind hospitality. 
 
 Mrs. Heatherton was in the dining-room, 
 earnestly examining some of the ancestral 
 china and glass, and Evelyn and I stood to- 
 gether in the hall, almost under the portrait 
 which hung near the chimney-piece. She had 
 been talking of the love and reverence she felt 
 for this old house. " Evelyn," said I, " if you 
 love this house and all that is in it, will you 
 not take it, and have it for your own? And 
 
382 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 will you not take me and love me, and ha\e 
 me for your own ? " 
 
 I liad my answer before the old lady came 
 out of the dining-room. She was reading the 
 inscription on an old silver loving-cup when 
 we went in to her and told her that again 
 Evelyn Heatherton was to be the mistress of 
 the old mansion. 
 
 We were married in the early winter, and 
 after a journey in the South we came back 
 to the old house, for I had a great desire that 
 we should spend the holidays under its roof. 
 
 It was Christmas eve, and we stood together 
 in the great hall, with a fire burning upon the 
 hearth as it had glowed and crackled a year 
 before. It was some minutes before twelve, 
 and, purposely, I threw my arms around my 
 dear wife and turned her so that she stood with 
 her back to the great staircase. I had never 
 told her of the vision I had seen ; I feared to 
 do so; I did not know what effect it might 
 have upon her. I cared for her so earnestly 
 and tenderly that I would risk nothing, but I 
 felt that I must stand with her in that hall on 
 that Christmas eve, and I believed that I could 
 do so without fear or self-reproach. 
 
 The clock struck twelve. " Look up at 
 
THE ORE AT STAIRCASE 383 
 
 your great-grandmother, Evelyn/' I said; " it 
 is fit that you should do so at this time." In 
 obedience to my wishes her eyes were fixed 
 upon the old portrait, and, at the same time, 
 looking over her shoulder, my eyes fell upon 
 the vision of the first Evelyn Heatherton de- 
 scending the stairs. Upon her features was a 
 gentle smile of welcome and of pleasure. So 
 she must have looked when she went out of 
 this world in health and strength and womanly 
 bloom. 
 
 The vision reached the bottom of the stairs 
 and came toward us. I stood expectant, my 
 eyes fixed upon her noble countenance. 
 
 " It seems to me,'' said my Evelyn, " as if 
 my great-grandmother really looked down 
 upon us; as if it made her happy to think 
 that " 
 
 " Is this what you meant? " said I, speak- 
 ing to the lovely vision, now so near us. 
 
 " Yes," was the answer; " it is what I 
 meant, and I am rejoiced. I bless you and 
 I love you both," and as she spoke two fair 
 and shadowy hands were extended over our 
 heads. No one can hear the voice of a spirit 
 except those to whom it speaks, and my wife 
 thought that my words had been addressed to 
 her. 
 
384 THE GREAT STAIRCASE 
 
 " Yes,'^ said my Evelyn; " I mean that we 
 should be standing here in her old home, and 
 that your arm should be around me." 
 
 I looked again. There was no one in the 
 hall, except my Evelyn and myself. 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MY TOWER 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MY TOWER 
 
 AT one corner of the house I once lived in 
 is a tall, wide tower, rising high above 
 the trees which surround it. In one of the 
 upper rooms of this tower I worked and 
 thought, and here, in the evening and early 
 part of the night, I used to be quite alone, ex- 
 cept for the ghosts. 
 
 Before I had come to this house I knew 
 that the tower was haunted, but I did not mind 
 that. As the ghosts had never done anyone 
 any harm I did not believe they would do me 
 any harm, and I thought I should really be 
 glad of their company, which must certainly 
 be different from the company of ordinary 
 people. So, when I had arranged an upper 
 room in the tower so that I might pleasantly 
 work and think therein, I expected the ghosts 
 to come to me, and should have been very 
 much disappointed if they had not. 
 
 I did not exactly understand these ghosts, 
 387 
 
SS8 THE GHOSTS IH MY TOWER 
 
 of which I had heard nothing definite, except 
 that they haunted the tower, and I did not 
 know in what way they would manifest them- 
 selves to me. It was not long, however, after 
 I had begun to occupy the room, before the 
 ghosts came to me. One evening, a little be- 
 fore Christmas, after everybody in the house 
 but myself had gone to bed, and all was quiet, 
 outside and inside, I heard a knock, and was 
 on the point of saying, " Come in ! " when the 
 knock was repeated and I found that it did 
 not come from the door, but from the wall. 1 
 smiled. 
 
 " You cannot come in that way," I thought, 
 " unless there are secret doors in these walls, 
 and even then you must open them for your- 
 self." 
 
 I went on with my writing, but I soon 
 looked up again, for I thought I heard a chair 
 gently pushed back against the wall in a cor- 
 ner behind me, and, almost immediately, I 
 heard a noise as if some little boy had dropped 
 a number of marbles, or perhaps pennies, but 
 there was no chair in the corner at which I 
 looked, and there were no pennies nor mtrbles 
 on the floor. 
 
 IN'ight after night I heard my ghosts — ^for 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MY TO WEE 389 
 
 I had come to consider them as mine, which 
 I had bought with the house — and although I 
 could not see them there were so many ways 
 in which they let me know they existed that 
 I felt for them a sort of companionship. 
 When, in the quiet hours of the early night, I 
 heard their gentle knocks I knew that, were 
 the circumstances different, they would have 
 been glad to come in, and I did not feel lonely. 
 
 Now and then I thought I heard the voices 
 ol the ghosts, sometimes outside, under my 
 window, and sometimes behind me, in a dis- 
 tant corner of the room. Their tones were 
 low and plaintive, and I could not distinguish 
 words or phrases, but it often seemed as if 
 they were really speaking to me, and that I 
 ought to try to understand and to answer 
 them. But I soon discovered that these voice- 
 like sounds were caused by the vagrant breezes 
 going up and down the tall chimney of the 
 tower, making seolian tones, not of music, but 
 of vague and indistinct speech. 
 
 The winter passed, and at last there came 
 a time when I saw one of the ghosts. It was 
 in the dusk of an evening, early in spring, 
 and just outside of an open window, that it 
 appeared to me. It was as plain to my sight 
 
390 THE GHOSTS IN MY TOWER 
 
 as if it had been painted in delicate half-tones 
 against a sombre background of tender foli- 
 age and evening sky. 
 
 It was clad from head to foot in softest gray, 
 such as the phantoms of the night are said to 
 love, and over its shoulders and down its up- 
 right form were thrown the fleecy folds of a 
 mantle so mistily gray that it seemed to blend 
 into the dusky figure it partly shrouded. The 
 moment I saw it I knew it saw me. Out of 
 its cloudy grayness there shone two eyes, 
 black, clear, and sparkling, fixed upon me 
 with questioning intensity. I sat, gazing, with 
 checked breath, at this ghost of the tower. 
 
 Suddenly I leaned forward — just a little — 
 to get a better view of the apparition, when, 
 like a bursting bubble, it was gone, and there 
 was nothing before me but the background of 
 foliage and evening sky. 
 
 Frequently after that I saw this ghost, or 
 it may have been one of the others, for it was 
 difficult, with these gray visions, with which 
 one must not speak or toward which it was 
 hazardous to move even a hand, to become so 
 well acquainted that I should know one from 
 another. But there they were; not only did 
 I hear them; not only, night after night, did 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MT TOWER 391 
 
 my ears assure me of their existence, but in the 
 shadows of the trees, as the summer came on, 
 and on the lonelier stretches of the lawn I 
 saw them, and I knew that in good truth my 
 home was haunted. 
 
 Late one afternoon, while walking in my 
 grounds, I saw before me one of the spectres 
 of my tower. It moved slowly over the lawn, 
 scarcely seeming to touch the tips of the grass, 
 and with no more sound than a cloud would 
 make when settling on a hill-top. Suddenly 
 it turned its bright watchful eyes upon me, 
 and then, with a start that seemed to send a 
 thrill even through the gray mantle which 
 lightly touched its shoulders, it rose before my 
 very eyes until it was nearly as high as the 
 top of my tower ! 
 
 Wings it had not nor did it float in the air; 
 it ran like a streak of gray electricity along 
 the lightning-rod, only, instead of flashing 
 down it, as electricity would pass from the 
 sky, it ran upward. I did not see this swiftly 
 moving spirit reach the topmost point of the 
 rod, for, at a point where the thick wire ap- 
 proached the eaves, it vanished. 
 
 By this time I had come to the conclusion, 
 not altogether pleasant to my mind, that my 
 
392 THE GHOSTS IN MT TOWER 
 
 ghosts were taking advantage of my forbear- 
 ance, with their mystic knocks and signals in 
 the night and their visits in the daylight, and 
 that there must be too many of them in my 
 tower. I must admit that they annoyed me 
 very little, and I was not in the least afraid of 
 them, but there were others who came into 
 my tower and who slept in some of its rooms, 
 and to the minds of visitors and timorous maids 
 there was something uncanny and terrifying 
 in these midnight knocks and scratches. 
 
 So, having concluded from what I had seen 
 that day that it was the very uppermost part 
 of the tower which had become the resort of 
 these gray sprites, and from which they came 
 to disturb our quiet and repose, I determined 
 to interfere with their passage from the earth 
 to my tower-top. If, like an electric current, 
 they used the lightning-rod as a means of 
 transit, I devised a plan which would compel 
 them to use it in the conventional and proper 
 way. The rod was placed there that lightning 
 might come down it, not that it might go 
 up, so I set myself to put the rod in a condition 
 that would permit the ghosts to descend as the 
 lightning did, but which would prevent them 
 from going up. 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MY TO WEE 393 
 
 Accordingly I thoroughly greased the rod 
 for a considerable distance above the ground. 
 
 " IN'ow/' said I to myself, " you may all 
 come down, one after the other, whenever 
 you like. You will descend very quickly 
 when you reach the greased part of the rod, 
 but you will not go up it again. You are get- 
 ting very bold, and if you continue your mad 
 revels in my tower you will frighten people, 
 and give my house a bad name. You may 
 become dryads if you like and shut your- 
 selves up in the hearts of the tall and solemn 
 oaks. There you may haunt the blue jays and 
 the woodpeckers, but they will not tell tales 
 of ghostly visits which may keep my friends 
 away and make my servants give me warning." 
 
 After that there were no more gray flashes 
 up my lightning-rod, though how many came 
 down it I know not, and the intramural revels 
 in the tower ceased. But not for long. The 
 ghosts came back again ; perhaps not so many 
 as before, but still enough of them to let me 
 know that they were there. 
 
 How they ascended to their lofty haunts I 
 could not tell, nor did I try to find out. I 
 accepted the situation. I could not contend 
 with these undaunted sprites. 
 
394 THE GHOSTS IN MT TOWER 
 
 One evening, in the autumn, outside the 
 same window from which I had seen the first 
 ghost of the tower, I saw another apparition, 
 but it was not one of the gray spectres to 
 which I had become accustomed. It was a jet- 
 black demon. Its eyes, large, green, and glar- 
 ing, shone upon me, and it was as motionless 
 and dark as a statue cut in coal. 
 
 For only an instant I saw it, and then in a 
 flash, like the apparition I had first seen from 
 that window, it disappeared. After that, I 
 saw the demon again and again, and strange 
 to say the ghosts in my tower became fewer 
 and fewer, and at last they disappeared alto- 
 gether. The advent of the black spirit seemed 
 to have exerted an evil influence over the 
 sprites in gray, and, like the Indian in the 
 presence of the white man, they faded away 
 and gradually became extinct. 
 
 The last time I saw one of my ghosts it ap- 
 peared to me late on a IN^ovember afternoon, 
 among the brown foliage of an aged oak, just 
 as a dryad might have peeped forth from her 
 leafy retreat, wondering if the world were yet 
 open to her for a ramble under the stars. The 
 world was open to my gray ghost, but only in 
 one direction. Between it and me could be 
 
THE GHOSTS IN MY TOWER 396 
 
 seen, among the shadows of the ground, the 
 dark form of the demon, trembling and wait- 
 ing. Then away from the old oak, away from 
 my house and my tower, along the limbs of 
 trees which stood on the edge of the wood, 
 slowly and silently, my ghost vanished from 
 my view like a little gray cloud, gently moving 
 over the sky, at last dissolving out of my sight. 
 Now, in the early hours of the night my 
 tower is quiet and still. There are no more 
 knocks, no more wild revels in the hidden pas- 
 sages of the walls. My ghosts are gone. All 
 :hat I hear now are the voices in the chimney, 
 but I know that these are only imaginary 
 voices, and, therefore, they produce in me no 
 feeling of companionship. But my ghosts 
 really existed. 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 INTO a little town on the New England coast 
 there came one day in mild October 
 weather a quiet man without an object; at 
 least, this was the opinion of the villagers. 
 
 This opinion was not formed until the 
 stranger had lived for five or six days in their 
 midst, having lodgings at the inn, but spend- 
 ing his days and even parts of his evenings 
 in the open air; sometimes in the village 
 streets, sometimes in the surrounding country, 
 and very often on the sands and among the 
 rocks of the ocean beach. 
 
 It was his manner of spending his time 
 which proved that he was a man without an 
 object. At first it was supposed that he was 
 an artist — so many wandering strangers are 
 artists; but he never sketched and it did not 
 appear that he had brought with him even an 
 umbrella or a camp-stool. He had probably 
 not come for his health, for he seemed in good 
 399 
 
400 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 physical condition, and he had not come for 
 the usual seaside society, for it was not the 
 time of the year for that. All the summer 
 boarders had gone and there was no one 
 left in the little village but the regular in- 
 habitants thereof. 
 
 The water was now too cold for sea-bathing, 
 and, besides, he had casually mentioned that he 
 did not care for that sort of thing; and, what 
 was stranger than all, he had not come there 
 to sail upon the ocean. Several times it had 
 been proposed to him that he should go out 
 in one of the numerous cat-boats or sloops 
 which were idly lying at anchor in the little 
 bay, for, in the middle of the day, the weather 
 was just as good for a sail as it had been in 
 August or September. 
 
 But only once did the stranger heed such 
 suggestions, and then he hired the best boat 
 in the bay, which was sailed by one of the old- 
 est skippers, assisted by a weather-beaten mari- 
 ner, and it may be therefore supposed that it 
 was very well sailed ; but whether the stranger 
 liked the little excursion or not, it was im- 
 possible for the skipper to say. He had ex- 
 pressed no opinion on the subject, either while 
 lie was in the boat or after he landed, but as 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 401 
 
 he did not go out again during his stay in the 
 village, it was generally believed that he had 
 not liked it. 
 
 It might have been supposed that he came 
 to this quiet little place for the sake of living 
 cheaply, had it not been for the fact that he 
 occupied the largest and most expensive room 
 at the hotel; that, being the only lodger at the 
 inn, he ordered the best living that the land- 
 lord could procure for him, and at dinner-time 
 indulged in the unusual extravagance of a 
 glass or two of wine. 
 
 So it was not long before the villagers made 
 up their minds that the quiet man at the inn 
 was without an object. As he cared for noth- 
 ing which they or their village could offer 
 him, it was plain enough that he had no reason 
 for coming there. But the investigations and 
 consultations of the villagers had a positive as 
 well as a negative result. They proved, with- 
 out the shadow of a doubt, that this person was 
 a thorough landsman. He did not seem to 
 care for the ocean or anything connected with 
 it; and, on the one occasion when he had gone 
 out in a boat, it was manifest to the skipper 
 and to the mariner who was with him that this 
 stranger knew nothing whatever about naviga- 
 
402 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 tion, about boats, about sails, about sheets, or 
 even about a tiller. 
 
 He did not seem to mind the motion of the 
 waves, but it was remarked, when the subject 
 was discussed that evening, that it was very 
 probable that he did not know enough about 
 the ocean to be aware that people unaccus- 
 tomed to it were made to feel badly when the 
 sea was rough, and on that day it had been a 
 little rough. 
 
 The stranger now occupied a peculiar posi- 
 tion in the village; he was the only landsman 
 therein. All the men in the place were nauti- 
 cal, in some degree or other, and there was 
 not one of them over thirty years of age who 
 was not called captain. They had not all 
 commanded a vessel, but it would have been 
 considered discourteous in that region to cast 
 upon a man old enough to be a captain the 
 imputation that he had not attained that dis- 
 tinction. Not to be able to sail a boat would 
 have been considered in a citizen of the vil- 
 lage a condition of denser ignorance than in- 
 ability to read. 
 
 But, of course, conditions were different in 
 the case of a thorough landsman : he would not 
 know anything about the sea, but he might 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 403 
 
 know something about the land, and in the 
 inferior sphere in which he moved he might 
 hold a very fair position. Consequently, when 
 it was agreed that the man at the inn was an 
 out-and-out landsman, he rose in the esteem of 
 the villagers. To be sure, he did not know 
 anything about the sea, but then he did not 
 pretend to know anything; such a man they 
 had never seen before. 
 
 Many men had come down there in the 
 summer-time who, although they did not 
 know the difference between a sliding keel 
 and a shuffle-board, hitched up their trousers, 
 walked with a rolling gait, wore little caps 
 with visors, and were perfectly willing to take 
 the helm if they should find anyone fool 
 enough to let them do it. These men had al- 
 ways been looked upon with the contempt 
 proper to their pretensions; but here was a 
 man who pretended nothing: a good, honest, 
 square, outright, unvarnished landsman. As 
 such they recognized him, and as such they 
 gave him a position — not a very high one, but 
 one they believed he deserved. 
 
 When the season for seaside visitors was 
 over, and when the evenings were cold, it was 
 the custom of some of the captains of the vil- 
 
404: THE LANDSMAira TALE 
 
 lage to gather, after supper, in the large room 
 of the inn and to sit around the great fireplace 
 to smoke and to talk: and now the landsman 
 often found it pleasant to sit there and listen 
 to them as he smoked his cigar. He was not 
 much of a talker, but he was a very good lis- 
 tener, and for this the captains liked him. 
 It often happened that when an old skipper 
 told a tale of adventures in far-away seas, 
 and told it ostensibly to the assembled com- 
 pany, he really told it to the landsman, and 
 all the "rest knew it, and the more evidently 
 such tales were directed at the landsman and 
 the better they were adapted to his want of 
 comprehension of nautical subjects, the bet- 
 ter they were liked by the rest of the assembled 
 company. 
 
 One evening there was a public meeting in 
 the large room of the inn, composed not only 
 of the captains of the place, but of their 
 wives, their daughters, and their sisters. This 
 had been called together for the purpose of 
 considering the establishment of a library in 
 the village. The captains, old and young, as 
 well as their wives and daughters, were al- 
 ways glad to have something to read during 
 the long evenings of winter, and as their stock 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 406 
 
 of reading-matter was very limited, and as 
 they had heard a great deal about village 
 libraries from their summer visitors, they had 
 now determined to establish a little library 
 for themselves. So this meeting was called, 
 and it was hoped that it might result in en- 
 couraging subscriptions. 
 
 The landlord of the inn, who had taken part 
 in public meetings elsewhere, was called upon 
 to preside, and the exercises consisted in 
 speeches from the more prominent captains 
 present. * These speeches were all of the same 
 character, they had the same object, and they 
 were constructed on the same general plan. 
 They recounted the speaker's love of reading, 
 which always began in his boyhood; they 
 told how difficult it had been for him to get 
 access to books ; and how he had always longed 
 for first-class A-]N'o. 1, copper-fastened litera- 
 ture; and they all ended with remarks on 
 the great advantages of an institution which 
 should supply reading-matter to nautical peo- 
 ple, and of the peculiar need of their own vil- 
 lage for such an institution. 
 
 These speeches, most of them autobiograph- 
 ical to an extent not required by the subject, 
 were listened to with great attention, and when 
 
406 TEE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 every captain who desired to speak had spoken, 
 it was evident that the audience would be 
 pleased with a continuation of the interesting 
 proceedings. 
 
 With this idea in his mind the landlord 
 stood up and glanced toward the landsman. 
 ^^ There is a gentleman present," he said, 
 " who is not a seafaring person and for that 
 reason is not likely to feel as we do about the 
 needs of mariners and their families for books, 
 but he may be able to say something on the 
 subject which will be useful, and perhaps he 
 may get from what has happened to him in his 
 inland life a point or two which may come in 
 well upon an occasion like this. It may be 
 that some of us mariners have got into the way 
 of thinking that this world is all water — that 
 is, all the parts that are good for much^but 
 that isn't the right way of thinking: there 
 are plenty of things which have happened on 
 land that are well worth hearing about. So, if 
 the gentleman would not mind, I am sure we 
 would all be very glad to have him say some- 
 thing to us, something which may come in 
 with the general drift of the public feeling in 
 this village in the direction of a library." 
 
 All eye« were now directed toward the lands- 
 man, who, without hesitation, rose in his place. 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 407 
 
 " Mr. Chairman/' said he, " I am very will- 
 ing to make some remarks upon this occasion, 
 but I should prefer not to divert the very in- 
 teresting and instructive current in which the 
 proceedings of this evening have been flow- 
 ing. I therefore ask that you will allow me to 
 tell you, instead of a story of the land, which 
 would not harmonize with the tenor of the 
 narrations to which we have listened with 
 such pleasure this evening, a story of the sea." 
 
 At this everybody stared in surprise. What 
 could this landsman know about the sea? Of 
 course he might have heard of something 
 which happened at sea, but how could he re- 
 peat it? That would be as if one of their 
 townsmen should overhear a couple of Welsh- 
 men talking in their native tongue and should 
 endeavor to give the points of their conversa- 
 tion. It was odd, truly, that this landsman 
 should want to tell a sea story, but for that 
 very reason everybody wanted to hear it. 
 
 " It was some time ago,'' the landsman said, 
 " exactly how long I cannot state, that a good- 
 sized schooner was sailing on the Pacific Ocean. 
 It was an American schooner, and was manned 
 by a crew of ten thoroughbred seamen, a cap- 
 tain, and a boy. I don't know to what port 
 
408 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 this schooner was bound, but I think it very 
 likely she was going to the Sandwich Islands; 
 nor do I know what her cargo was, but that 
 would be of no interest to us. 
 
 " Her crew were all respectable mariners; 
 on such a vessel a foreigner would have been 
 decidedly out of place. These men cared not 
 only for their bodies, but for their minds; 
 they would not have been satisfied with enough 
 to eat and to drink, good clothes to wear, and 
 not too much work to do; they must have 
 more than this, they must have food for the 
 mind ; they must have reading - matter. 
 Every one of them, including the captain and 
 the boy, was fond of books. 
 
 " It may well be supposed that a crew with 
 tastes of that sort would not start out of port 
 without taking along, among their other stores, 
 a store of books, and so this schooner had on 
 board a library. This was a very small one, 
 and was contained in a portable bookcase not 
 much larger than a soap-box; but the books 
 were all in small type — for a sailor who has 
 not good eyes can't be much of a sailor — and, 
 as it takes a long time to read a book at sea 
 where there are so many interruptions in the 
 way of watches and storms and meals, and 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 409 
 
 going to the masthead to look out for whales 
 and sails, the contents of the little portable 
 bookcase had never failed to give the crew all 
 the reading-matter they wanted, no matter 
 how long a voyage might be. Even if a rapid 
 reader had got through with the whole of them 
 before the schooner reached the port to which 
 she was bound, he would have been very will- 
 ing to begin again and read them all the 
 second time, for they were good books. Con- 
 sequently great care was taken of this port- 
 able library, and whenever there was rough 
 weather the doors of the little bookcase were 
 battened down, so that the precious volumes 
 should not be tumbled out." 
 
 At this some of the captains looked at each 
 other; it was all right to batten down hatches 
 when there was a storm, but nobody ever bat- 
 tened down the doors of a bookcase; how- 
 ever, this person was a landsman. 
 
 " They had been sailing,'' the speaker con- 
 tinued, " for some weeks, and, as there had 
 been many calms, the men had had unusual 
 opportunities for reading, and all of them had 
 become very much interested in the books 
 they had in hand. This state of things was 
 pleasant, although not profitable, but it soon 
 
410 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 came to an end, for one morning just after 
 breakfast a violent wind arose and soon be- 
 came so strong that the captain was quite sure 
 that a tornado or a hurricane would soon be 
 upon them. He gave orders to take in all the 
 sails, but before this could be done one of the 
 small ones in front was blown entirely away 
 from the ropes which held it, and went whirl- 
 ing out to sea, far in advance of the vessel. 
 
 " The wind came from the south, and, there- 
 fore, the schooner was soon scudding along 
 under bare poles as if she intended to dash 
 through the water to the region of the polar 
 bears, and, as the captain had expected, this 
 wind-storm grew into a hurricane, and the 
 masts of the schooner, although they were 
 good ones, could not stand it. First the top- 
 mast of the foremast went, then the other top- 
 mast followed, then the thicker part of the 
 masts snapped off one after the other, just 
 about the middle, and jerking themselves loose 
 from the rope ladders and all the cords which 
 held them, they went off through the air as 
 if they had been birds, and none of them 
 touched water until they had gone at least a 
 mile ahead. 
 
 " Now the booms, which held the two large 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 411 
 
 sails wrapped up upon them, blew away from 
 the half-masts on which they swung, and went 
 up into the air, and the violence of the wind 
 was such that the little cords which held the 
 sails to the booms were broken, and the sails 
 spread out like great kites, and higher and 
 higher they went up into the air, until they 
 seemed like little white specks against the 
 black tempestuous sky. 
 
 " Now the ends of the masts which had been 
 left standing broke off with a great crack and 
 disappeared as suddenly as if each one of them 
 had been the flame of a candle when it is 
 blown out, and after them the bowsprit was 
 wrenched from its fastenings and hurled for- 
 ward like a javelin cast into the wild waste 
 ahead." 
 
 At this point the captains, who had been 
 listening with eager interest, looked at each 
 other, and the landsman noticed it. 
 
 " That may seem somewhat strange,'^ he 
 said, " but this wind was now acquiring the 
 character of an irregular cyclone, and as it 
 passed the schooner its corkscrew-like move- 
 ments drew out the bowsprit as if it had been 
 the stopper from a bottle. And now the small 
 boats, which had been so firmly fastened to 
 
412 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 the irons which held them like pots suspended 
 from an old-fashioned crane in a fireplace, up- 
 heaved themselves and blew away, and when 
 this happened the heart of each one of the 
 crew, including the captain and the boy, sank 
 as if it had been the lead on a line. But there 
 was no need for such mental depression, for 
 those sailors soon saw that they would have 
 been no better off in such a storm as that with 
 the boats than without them. 
 
 " There were two of these boats, a long- 
 boat and a shorter one, and the crew gazed 
 with amazement at their behavior. The boats 
 were in front of them not very far away, and 
 for a time did not seem to be blown along 
 any faster than the schooner, but their mo- 
 tions were wonderful. First the long-boat rose 
 high in the air, then it turned bow down and 
 stem up and plunged into the ocean, dipping 
 up a boatful of water and rising again into 
 the air, turned completely over, upsetting its 
 whole load of water upon the other boat which 
 was just beneath it. This made the shorter 
 boat sink, but it soon came up some distance 
 ahead and flew into the air, followed hard by 
 the long-boat, which seemed to be trying to 
 bump it. 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 413 
 
 " Tlie two rose and fell together, sometimes 
 high, sometimes low, the long-boat always in 
 pursuit of the shorter boat, like a hawk after a 
 pigeon, until at last they came together, with 
 their hollow parts toward each other like the 
 two shells of a clam. The shock was so great 
 that they burst into fragments with a great 
 noise, as if they had exploded, and little pieces 
 of them scattered themselves over the sea like 
 hail. To think of their fate had they been 
 in those boats was enough to make that crew 
 shiver. 
 
 " Now the wind grew stronger and strong- 
 er; it was a real, full-grown tornado, and 
 every man of the crew, including the captain 
 and the boy, was obliged to lie flat upon the 
 deck and hold on to some ring or bar to keep 
 himself from being blown away. They did 
 this none too soon, for in a few minutes the 
 wind began to blow the bulwarks off that 
 schooner, and if the stem rail had not lifted 
 itself a little as it flew over the schooner and 
 out ahead, it would have wiped every man off 
 that deck as neatly as you would peel the skin 
 from a banana." 
 
 The captains did not look at each other now, 
 but they stared steadfastly at the landsman; 
 
414 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 even their wives, their daughters, and their sis- 
 ters were impressed with the intensity of the 
 storm that was being described. Their nerves 
 were in a state of tension; if one of their 
 hairpins had dropped, it would have startled 
 them. 
 
 ^^ On went that schooner," continued the 
 landsman, ^" faster and faster, before that aw- 
 ful, howling, shrieking wind; it seemed as if 
 the waves behind were jelling to the waves 
 in front to turn and stop the flying vessel so 
 that they might leap on board. The captain, 
 flat on his face on the deck, kept his hand 
 upon the helm, and so steered the schooner that 
 she sped straight forward over the waves and 
 before the wind. !Now the whole ocean was 
 boiling under the hot fury of the tempest, and 
 great waves seemed to rise perpendicularly out 
 of the depths, and one of these, coming up 
 under the schooner, lifted her stern high into 
 the air. This was only for a moment, but it 
 was an eventful one, for the wild blast struck 
 the rudder, now exposed to its fury, and 
 tore it from the stern as if it had been the 
 stem of a strawberry. Over the sea now 
 skipped that rudder, as a stone from the hand 
 of a boy skims and jumps over the smooth 
 surface of a mill-pond. 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 415 
 
 " Now, of course, the schooner could be no 
 longer directed or controlled. On she still 
 went before the maddened gale, but not as be- 
 fore, bows in front and stern behind; but 
 sometimes stern foremost, sometimes whirling 
 around like a top, sometimes brushing broad- 
 side over the waves as if she were trying to 
 smooth them down. On, on, still on she 
 plunged and dashed and spun, until the men 
 clinging to her deck were sometimes almost 
 dizzy with the motion, but still the heart of 
 the captain did not falter: ^ Hold on, my men,' 
 he cried, whenever the roaring tempest would 
 allow him to be heard; ^ we have yet a good 
 hull beneath us and the wind may fall.' 
 
 ^^ But now a terrible thing happened. The 
 schooner was down in the trough of the sea, 
 and as she rose, a fierce blast, blowing close to 
 the surface of the water, struck her broadside 
 and turned her over upon her beam-ends: so 
 far over, indeed, that the men clung to the 
 deck as if they had been hanging against the 
 side of a perpendicular wall. She went over 
 still farther, and everyone felt that she was 
 going to capsize entirely. Just at this mo- 
 ment there came over the sea the wildest and 
 most furious blast that had yet blown, and in 
 
416 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 one mad whiff it blew off the keel of that 
 schooner." 
 
 As the landsman now gazed in the faces of 
 his audience, it seemed as if each one of the 
 captains had been transformed into a wooden 
 image. With open eyes, with close closed lips, 
 and without a sign of emotion upon their rigid 
 faces, they sat and listened. In the eyes of 
 some of the women were tears; others had 
 their mouths open. The landsman paused for 
 a few seconds, and then continued : 
 
 ^^ That schooner did not capsize. As soon 
 as her keel was gone she righted and went 
 plunging, bounding, whirling, northward. 
 But the wind had done its worst, there was 
 nothing about that vessel which could be 
 blown away except the crew, and they stuck 
 so close to the deck that the wind passed over 
 them as if they had been mere knobs or pim- 
 ples on the surface of the vessel. 
 
 " Having done its worst, the wind did really 
 begin to fall, and the storm passed away al- 
 most as suddenly as it had risen, and before 
 long the hull of the schooner was rising and 
 falling and rolling on the great swells which 
 had followed the tempest. Now the crew 
 could sit up and look about them, but there 
 
THB LANDSMAN'S TALE 417 
 
 wasn't much to look at, for everything of wood 
 or iron which had projected from the hull of 
 that schooner had been blown away. 
 
 " The captain folded his arms and consid- 
 ered the case. It was a hard thing for him 
 to make up his mind to desert his vessel. Un- 
 der ordinary circumstances he would have 
 rigged up some sort of a rudder; he would 
 have made some sort of a mast; he would 
 have hoisted sails, even if they had been table- 
 cloths and sheets — ^he would have endeavored 
 to make his way to the nearest port; but now 
 it was of no use for him to try to do any of 
 these things. You all know as well as he did 
 that when a vessel has lost her keel in the 
 ocean, the time has come to give her up. 
 
 " So the captain addressed his crew : ' My 
 men,' he said, ^ we must leave this vessel ; her 
 keel is gone, and she is of no further use. 
 Down below, with our freight, there is a boat 
 which was shipped in sections ; it is a hunting- 
 boat, which can be taken apart and carried 
 over the land when necessary. Of course this 
 boat does not belong to us, but under the cir- 
 cumstances we are warranted in using it. We 
 will get this boat on deck and put it together; 
 there are oars belonging to it, and in it we 
 
418 TEE LANDSMAN'S TALB 
 
 will row away to the nearest land. Of course 
 I don't know how near such land may be, and 
 I can't take any observations now; but by dead 
 reckoning, and I have been doing a good deal 
 of this since I have been lying here on the 
 deck, I think I have a fair idea where we are. 
 We sailed on pretty near the same line of 
 latitude from the time I took my observation 
 yesterday until the storm struck us this morn- 
 ing, and then I dead-reckoned that that wind 
 must have been blowing at the rate of sixty 
 miles an hour, and, although it could not carry 
 us along as fast as that, it must have taken us 
 thirty-five miles an hour, and so in the five 
 hours in which it blew we must have sailed 
 northward one hundred and seventy-five miles. 
 
 " !Now, according to the chart as I remem- 
 ber it, there are some desert islands about 
 forty-five miles to the northeast of us, and it 
 will not be difficult for us to row to them in 
 that boat. So, my men, let us get to work 
 and launch her. 
 
 '^ The men sprang up with a will, and in a 
 short time the boat was hauled up on deck, 
 put together, and lowered to the water. 
 
 " The crew of the schooner now got down 
 into the boat, and as they did so it seemed 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 419 
 
 doubtful to tile captain whether or not the lit- 
 tle hunting craft would hold them all; but 
 they crowded in until they were all aboard ex- 
 cept the captain, who, of course, would be the 
 last to leave his ship. They were packed tight- 
 ly together, barely leaving room for the oars- 
 men to move their arms, but there was still a 
 vacant space at the stern which had been left 
 for the captain. 
 
 " But this good man, instead of descending, 
 stood on the edge of the deck and looked down 
 into the boat. 
 
 " ^ Hurry, captain,' said the first mate, ' and 
 come down; we have got a good way to row 
 and we ought to be starting; there is room for 
 you here.' 
 
 " ^ I see that,' said the captain, ^ and I have 
 been considering that vacant space. Hold on 
 a few moments; I will be with you directly.' 
 
 ^^ Now the captain hurried down into the 
 hold, but soon reappeared carrying under 
 each arm a box. These he placed on the edge 
 of the deck and stood between them. 
 
 '' ' My men,' he said, addressing the crew, 
 ^ I have calculated that if I sit with my knees 
 drawn up, there is room in that boat for one 
 of these boxes, and as that is all the additional 
 
420 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 load whidi the boat can carry, it will not be 
 possible to put both boxes into her. Now 
 one of these is a box I have always kept 
 packed, to be used in a case of emergency like 
 this; it contains condensed food of various 
 kinds, sufficient to last us all for some days. 
 As to water, I don't think we shall suffer for 
 that, for I see it is going to rain. The other 
 box is our portable library; it contains our 
 precious books. Now, my men, we can take 
 but one of these boxes, and I leave it to you 
 to decide which it shall be. Please come to 
 an agreement among yourselves as quickly as 
 possible, and I will lower down to you one 
 of the boxes and then get in myself.' 
 
 " The men in the boat now held a consulta- 
 tion; it was an earnest one, but did not last 
 long. The first mate rose in his place and 
 spoke for the others. 
 
 " ' Captain,' said he, ' we have made up 
 our minds. If it is only forty-five miles to 
 the nearest land, we can easily row that far 
 without eating. When we reach the island, 
 even if it should be a desert one, it is not un- 
 likely that we shall find some sort of food, 
 berries, birds, or bread-fruit, and almost cer- 
 tainly some fish in the adjacent water, but 
 there is no reason to suppose that upon such 
 
THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 4-21 
 
 islands we shall find books. Therefore, we 
 have unanimously agreed that we will take 
 with us our library. There's not a man among 
 us who is not interested in a story or in a his- 
 torical volume, and to leave our books behind 
 would be a wrench, captain, which in all def- 
 erence to your opinion, if it be otherwise, we 
 truly think we ought not to be obliged to give 
 ourselves.' 
 
 " In a faltering voice the captain spoke : 
 ' My men,' said he, ^ you have chosen wisely; 
 I will lower the library to the boat.' 
 
 " When this had been done, he got down 
 himself and the boat pushed off from the hull 
 of the schooner and rowed away to the north- 
 east." 
 
 The speaker ceased. For a moment there 
 was absolute silence in the room, but on the 
 face of every captain there seemed to be a 
 shadow which grew darker and darker as grows 
 the sky before a storm. 
 
 The landsman, who appeared to be pos- 
 sessed of a certain amount of weather wisdom, 
 advanced toward the chairman of the meet- 
 ing. " I have told my little tale," said he, 
 " and now allow me to make this contribution 
 to your library fund, and to bid you good- 
 evening." 
 
422 THE LANDSMAN'S TALE 
 
 Laying a bank-note on the table before the 
 presiding officer, he bowed and withdrew. 
 After which, without any motion being made 
 to that effect, the meeting adjourned. 
 
 There was a great deal of talking as the 
 people went home. Some of the captains who 
 were in the habit of refraining from swearing 
 in the presence of their wives, their sisters, and 
 their daughters, now swerved from their usual 
 custom. 
 
 " Do you suppose," said Captain Ephraim 
 Smolley to Captain Daniel Yates, " that that 
 confounded fool came here for nothing else 
 than to get the chance to spin us that all-fired 
 yarn?" 
 
 " Dunno," said Captain Daniel, " but as 
 there wasn't nuthin' else that he could have 
 come for, it must have been that." 
 
 Miss Amelia Brindley, a young woman with 
 a high color and a quick step, who was to be 
 the librarian of the library when it should be 
 founded, said to her mother when she got 
 home : " What nettles me most, is not think- 
 ing of the story he told to us to-night, but 
 thinking of the story he is going to tell about 
 us when he goes somewhere else; they say he 
 has ordered himself driven to the cars early 
 in the morning." 
 
Novels and Short Stories by 
 
 FRANK R. STOCKTON 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, Publishers, New York 
 
 •* / kavt been reading him novo a good many years, with an increasing pleas- 
 ure which his constant public seems to share, and I am more and more certain 
 that our literature does not know a more original or originative spirit. Every- \ 
 thing that he has done reveals his authority. I doubt if any author of our time j 
 stamps his personality so distinctly on his work." — Wiluam Dkan Howslls. | 
 
 A NEIV LOyE STORY 
 
 THE GIRL AT COBHURST 
 
 i2mo. $1.50. 
 
 Like ** Captain Horn" and "The Late Mrs. Null," this novel has no« 
 appeared serially, and the ingenious surprises of its unfolding plot are the 
 fresher for this reason. Its scene is a little country village, to which come 
 the hero of the tale and his sister ; and the French cook (widow of an 
 ** artist ") and the crotchety, match-making old maid, whose simultaneous 
 endeavors to lead the hero's affections in opposite paths produce some 
 truly Stocktonian intricacies, are creations which could have come from 
 no other pen than the author's. As Mr. Howells has well said, ** Of h» 
 kind he is the first and only." 
 
 A STORY TELLER'S PACK 
 
 •/« this book there is not one disappointment.** 
 Illustrated. i2mo. $1.50. 
 
 "Turn where we will in these admirably written tales, we find cause tot 
 praise." — London Literary World. 
 
 " Here is that quizzical vein of serious humor, that droll inventiveness ol 
 incident, and that adroit suggestion of character which are prominent charao* 
 teristics of Mr. Stockton's books." — Philadelphia Press. 
 
 " His gift is one of the most characteristic which has yet appeared in out 
 literature. The ^ct that it is humorous and light must not make us oblivious 
 of its original quality. This volume is handsomely made, with numerous 
 illustrations from well-known hands, and a very taking cover." — The Outlook, 
 
NOVELS AND SHORT STORIES BY FRANK R. STOCKTON 
 
 " Of Mr. Stocktons stories what is there to say but that ihif are an 
 universal blessing and delight ? " 
 
 Two Companion Novels of Adventure 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HORN 
 
 '* //■« better story of adventure has been written of late, I want to know tk$ 
 name of it," 
 
 i2mo. $1.50. 
 
 " There is no more thoroughly entertaining writer before the public to-day than Mr. 
 Stockton. He writes to amuse, and he succeeds admirably." — Boston Globe. 
 
 " Mr. Stockton has touched the high-water mark of romantic fiction and has shown his 
 power to grasp the magic of Defoe and Si^vensoa." — London Speaker. 
 
 MRS. CLIFFS YACHT 
 
 **Mr. Stockton is at his best in this story of land and j*a."~ The iNOsnMDBNT. 
 
 Illustrated. i2mo. $1.50. 
 
 " Those who remember ' The Adventures of Captain Horn,' and all who read the book 
 will remember it, have reason to thank Mr. Frank Stockton that he has not left them in 
 suspense regarding the disposition of so much of the great treasure as fell to the share 
 of Mrs. Cliff and of the Peruvian Government. ' Mrs. Cliff's Yacht' is the title of this 
 sequel, and the wit and insight into human nature which the first part of the book shows 
 makes a happy complement to the stirring adventure which occupies the last part, when 
 the fate of the Peruvian treasure is narrated." — Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 A New and Cheaper Edition of Two Famous Books. 
 
 In uniform style, illustrated by A. B. Frost. Each i2mo, $1.50. 
 POMONA'S TRAVELS 
 
 A Series of Letters to the Mistress ofT^udder Grange from her 
 
 Former Handmaiden 
 
 *' An attractive reprint is ' Pomona's Travels,' by Mr. Frank R. Stockton, whose name 
 alone carries a laugh with it. There is humor, also, in the delightful pictures by A. B. 
 Frost, which have almost as much character as the story. The cover in buff and green, 
 relieved with a touch of black, is very attractive; and as the work itself is one of the 
 happiest things that even Mr. Stockton's fancy has conceived, everything makes for its 
 success." — The Dial. 
 
 RUDDER GRANGE 
 
 " Of all Stockton's inimitable books this has always been regarded as the best." — 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 " A most attractive new edition in a charming binding. . . . Pomona is just as funny 
 on re-reading as on first acquaintance, and the book will not only make new friends in its 
 new dress, but reclaim old ones as well." — The Interior. 
 
 " If there is any one who has never read Stockton's ' Rudder Grange,' he should be 
 advised of the new edition of that inimitable story which has just been put out, and those 
 who have worn out their old copies through much handling will also be lucky to take 
 advantage of the opportunity." — Chicago Record. 
 
NOVELS AND SHORT STORIES BY FRANK R. STOCKTON 
 
 CONCERNING MR. STOCKTON'S STORIES. 
 
 " Mr. Stockton, more, perhaps, than any recent writer, has helped to define 
 the peculiar virtues of the short story. He has shown how possible it is to use 
 surprise as an eflfective element, and to make the turn of a story rather than the 
 crisis of a plot account for everything. It may be said in general that Mr. 
 Stockton does not rely often upon a sudden reversal at the ena of a story to cap- 
 ture the reader, but gives him a whimsey or caprice to enjoy ; while he works 
 out the details in a succession of amusing turns." — The Atlantic Monthly. 
 
 New Uniform Edition of the following Volumes : 
 
 THE WATCHMAKER'S WIFE 
 
 And Other Stories. i2mo, $1.25. 
 
 " His stories are characterized by the oddity and drollery which distinguish 
 Mr. Stockton's from that of the ordinary humorists." 
 
 —Charleston News and Courier, 
 
 THE LATE MRS. NULL 
 ismo, $1.25. 
 
 " We can assure prospective readers that their only regret after finishing the 
 book will be that never again can they hope for the pleasure of reading it for the 
 first time."— 2*< Critic. 
 
 RUDDER GRANGE 
 
 latno, paper, 60 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 h^*' Humor like this is perennial." — Washington Post. 
 
 THE RUDDER GRANGERS ABROAD 
 
 And Other Stories. i2mo, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " It will be eagerly sought by all old friends of Pomona and Jonas and the other 
 characters who have so delighted the numberless readers of ' Rudder Grange.' " 
 
 — The Outlook. 
 
 THE LADY, OR THE TIGER.? 
 
 And Other Stories. i2mo, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " His unique stories always hit the mark. But 'The Lady, or the Tiger?* was 
 a shaft condensed from the entire Stocktonese." — Century Magazine. 
 
 THE CHRISTMAS WRECK 
 
 And Other Stories. i2mo, paper, 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 "With the charm of a most delicate humor, his stories become trre^tibly at- 
 tnx!Ay^:'—PhiladeJphia Tmes. 
 
NOVELS AND SHORT STORIES BY FRANK R. STOCKTON 
 
 THE BEEMAN OF ORN 
 
 And Other Fanciful Tales. i2mo, $1.25. 
 
 "It would be idle to describe the fanciful humor of these stories. To read them 
 is simple recreation." — London Athenceum. 
 
 AMOS KILBRIGHT 
 
 His Adscititious Experiences. With Other Stories. i2mo, paper, 
 50 cents ; cloth, $1.25. 
 
 " A collection of inimitable tales. The writer's whimsical humor and inventive 
 genius find fitting scope in the title story." — Boston Commonwealth, 
 
 ARDIS CLAVERDEN 
 i2mo, $1.25. 
 "A very pretty story, tender, and full of gentle hnmor,''^— Philadelphia Press, 
 
 *^^* The set^ nine volumes ^ j2mo^ $11.^0, 
 
 Mr. STOCKTON'S Books For The Young 
 
 ** His books for boys and girls are classics." — Newark Advertiser. 
 
 THE CLOCKS OF RONDAINE, and Other Stories. With 
 24 illustrations by Blashfield, Rogers, Beard, and others. 
 Square 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 PERSONALLY CONDUCTED. Illustrated by Pennell, Par. 
 SONS, and others. Square 8vo, $2.00. 
 
 THE STORY OF VITEAU. Illustrated by R. B. Birch. i2mo. 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP. With 20 illustrations, omo, $1.50. 
 
 THE FLOATING PRINCE AND OTHER FAIRY TALES. 
 
 Illustrated. Square 8vo, $1.50. 
 
 THE TING-A-LING TALES. Illustrated. i2mo, $1.00. 
 
 ROUNDABOUT RAMBLES IN LANDS OF FACT AND 
 FICTION. Illustrated. Square Svo, $1.50. 
 
 TALES OUT OF SCHOOL. With nearly 200 illustrations 
 Square Svo, j{5i.5o. 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 153-157 Fifth Avuue, Niw Ytrt 
 

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 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY