DIE 
 
 presented to the 
 
 LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 
 
 FRIENDS OF THE LIBRARY 
 
 MR, JOHN C. ROSE 
 
 donor
 
 "Books that you may carry 
 to the fire, and bold readily 
 in your hand, are the most 
 useful after all " 
 
 JOHNSON
 
 STORIES OF 
 THE SEA
 
 STORIES FROM SCRIBNER 
 
 i 
 STORIES OF 
 
 THE SEA 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1893
 
 Copyright, 189), by 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 
 Trow Print
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 
 BY JOHN R. SPEARS 
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 
 BY MARIA BLUNT 
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 
 BY CHARLES E. CARRYL 
 
 THE LAST SLAVE SHIP 
 BY GEORGE HOWE, M.D.
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING 
 SHIPS 
 
 BY JOHN R. SPEARS
 
 THE big sky-sail clipper ship Governor 
 George T. Oglesby, of Bath, lay beside 
 the pier at the foot of Wall Street, almost 
 loaded with a miscellaneous cargo for 
 Portland, Oregon. A line of trucks with 
 goods for the big ship reached from the 
 ship's gangway across South Street and 
 nearly half way up to Front Street. The 
 engineer in the little coop that covered
 
 12 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 the hoisting engine on the pier was red 
 in the face from his extra exertions with 
 throttle and coal -shovel, for the stevedore 
 up on the ship's rail was making things 
 jump, in the hopes of completing the car- 
 go before six o'clock that night. The 
 'longshoremen on the pier, about the 
 deck, and in the hold of the ship worked 
 with unwonted zeal, while the ship's mate, 
 having set a young man from the agent's 
 office to checking off the goods that were 
 hoisted from the pier to the tune of the 
 stevedore's whistle, was trying to see how 
 near he could come to standing in two 
 parts of the ship at once without splitting 
 himself, and at the same time keep his 
 two eyes aloft on the riggers at work on 
 all three masts. The riggers were stretch- 
 ing the sails, fresh from an overhauling in 
 the sail-loft, along the yards and making 
 them fast there, and the mate was taking 
 his oath that he " never see such a gang 
 of lubbers as them riggers," and offering
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 13 
 
 to bet his soul against a worn-out chew of 
 tobacco that the first capful of wind that 
 struck the ship would strip the canvas off 
 her, fore and aft. The ship's master, 
 Captain Walter W. Allen, of Newbury- 
 port, was not in sight, having gone to the 
 office of the agents to settle some accounts 
 and sign the papers, but what with the 
 moving of the trucks, under the shouts of 
 noisy truckmen, and the hoisting of the 
 cargo, with the noise of whistle and steam- 
 engine, and the hoisting and stretching of 
 sails to the orders of mate and riggers, 
 there was no end of animation about the 
 Governor George T. Oglesby ; a lands- 
 man would have said there was a babel of 
 confusion, but to the eye of the sailorman 
 everything was working with a smoothness 
 and regularity seldom to be found under 
 like circumstances except on the deck of 
 a Yankee clipper. 
 
 Just after three o'clock six bells, the 
 stevedore called the hour when the stir
 
 14 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and noise, as he would have said, had 
 reached flood tide, there was a splash in 
 the water alongside the big clipper. Half 
 a dozen loungers on the next pier, on the 
 south side, became suddenly animated 
 with the appearance of life, and hurried 
 to the string-piece, over which they leaned 
 and pointed excitedly toward something 
 that was struggling and splashing about 
 in the water. 
 
 " It's a woman," said one, excitedly ; 
 " I see her har." 
 
 " What's yer givin' us? It's the dog 
 off n the Guv'ner Ojelsby," said another. 
 
 "Yer a stuff; it's a man. Why in hell 
 don't some of yous run for a cop ?" said a 
 third. 
 
 Nobody ran, but every one knew just 
 what was the matter and what some one 
 else ought to do. There was a man 
 drowning in the water close alongside the 
 big black hull ; that was plain enough. 
 One big, dirty hand was clawing at the
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 15 
 
 smooth copper in a vain effort to reach up 
 so that the ends of the fingers could catch 
 in the seam between two of the wooden 
 planks. Although unable to reach the 
 seam, the efforts, somehow, kept the man 
 from going under for good, but he was 
 fast getting weaker when the mate of the 
 big ship heard enough of the disturbance 
 on the adjoining pier to cause him to give, 
 one impatient glance in that direction. 
 That glance was enough. To his eye it 
 was plain that some one was overboard ; 
 nothing else ever excites the dock loun- 
 gers enough to make them gather excit- 
 edly together at the string-piece of the 
 pier. Grasping a coil of rope that hung 
 on a belaying pin under the main rigging, 
 he gave it a throw that sent it flying, lariat 
 fashion, out over the water. As the end 
 whizzed down he climbed over the rail and 
 in a moment more was up to his waist in 
 the water, clinging to the rope with one 
 hand and holding the drowning man's
 
 16 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 head by the hair above water. Finding 
 the man docile, the mate supported him 
 by twining his legs under his arms and 
 then made the loose end of the rope fast 
 to him and bawled to the men on deck to 
 "hist away, keerful like," which was done. 
 The mate himself scrambled up hand 
 over fist and lent a hand, as he said, in 
 getting the man on deck, where he was 
 soon stretched out in the sun. The ship's 
 boy was sent to ask a policeman to call 
 an ambulance, while the mate tore the 
 man's shirt open, wiped his face, neck, 
 and chest dry with a towel and then, 
 . finding that he breathed regularly, poured 
 a liberal dose of whiskey, which the ship's 
 steward had brought from the cabin with 
 the towel, down the man's throat, "jest to 
 take the wire edge off the salt water he's 
 been a swallerin'," as he said. 
 
 Under this treatment the man revived 
 quite a little, but he " was loony yet," as 
 the mate said afterward.
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 17 
 
 " Did they both sink ? " asked the man. 
 
 "Was there more on ye?" said the 
 mate. 
 
 "Aye. Did the collision sink ither 
 vessel? " 
 
 " What ye givin' us ? " The man looked 
 around as if bewildered and then said : 
 
 " I say, matey, what ship is this ? " 
 
 " The Governor George T. Oglesby, of 
 Bath," said the mate. 
 
 "I seed she was a Yankee," said the 
 man, glancing with admiring eyes aloft 
 Then he noticed the riggers and the 
 tackle by which the cargo was hoisted 
 in. He looked perplexed at this. 
 
 "Did ye have to jettison the cargo? 
 Carried away every rag, eh, matey? 
 Bendin' on new sails, eh ? " 
 
 The mate looked puzzled. "What 
 ever is he talking about ? " he said. 
 
 " What did ye make yer longitude, to- 
 day ? " continued the man. The mate 
 turned to the stevedore and said :
 
 18 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 "He thinks he's at sea. Crazy as a 
 loon. " 
 
 Just then the pilot of a Wall Street 
 ferry-boat, starting to leave the adjoin- 
 ing slip, blew a long blast on the steam 
 whistle. The man raised himself on one 
 elbow, looked off over the bow of the ship 
 where the end of the jib-boom seemed 
 about to poke itself into the second 
 story window of a red brick building, 
 looked at the long row of old-fashioned 
 buildings to the south, and then at the 
 endless number of spars that towered at 
 the adjoining piers. 
 
 " God," he said, " this is New York. 
 How in did I get here ? " 
 
 Then he fainted away. The mate, 
 thinking he bad died, had him carried 
 aft and laid out beside the wheel-house 
 and covering him with a tarpaulin left 
 him there to await the arrival of the 
 ambulance. 
 
 An hour and a quarter later the am-
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 19 
 
 bulance with much clanging of the gong 
 worked its way through the trucks on the 
 pier and stopped at the gangway ladder. 
 The ship's boy had found a policeman 
 around in Water Street talking to a 
 young woman who was selling early edi- 
 tions of evening papers to down-town 
 merchants. The policeman, after hearing 
 what the boy had to say, had walked 
 down to the pier, where he hailed the 
 stevedore. , 
 
 " Is it all roight about th" ambylince ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Yis," said the stevedore. Then the 
 policeman walked hastily to the Old Slip 
 station, where the sergeant, after hearing 
 the facts repeated twice, telegraphed for 
 the Chambers Street ambulance. 
 
 Walking up the inclined ladder to the 
 ship's rail the surgeon met the mate, who 
 said that the patient was dead. The sur- 
 geon was about to return to the hospital, 
 at this, and notify the keeper of the
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 morgue, but concluded to examine the 
 patient to see whether he really was dead, 
 and on laying his hand over the man's 
 heart found it still beating. 
 
 Among the flotsam and jetsam of the 
 street that had swirled in behind the am- 
 bulance as it headed out on the pier were 
 The. Kelly, the keeper of a sailor's board- 
 ing-house in Peck Slip, and a Sifter of 
 Rumors. Kelly looked at the face of the 
 half-drowned sailor in a queer way for a 
 moment and then said hastily to the * 
 surgeon : 
 
 " It's Jack Servenmalet, surgeon. He's 
 a frind o' moine, and ef yous can pull 'im 
 through Oi'll take im." 
 
 The surgeon thought he could pull him 
 through, and the man was accordingly 
 bundled into the ambulance and carried 
 to Kelly's house. As the vehicle left the 
 pier Kelly turned to the Sifter of Rumors 
 and said : 
 
 " It's Jack Servenmalet as was wint last
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 21 
 
 out of this port as carpenter into the 
 Nucleus, Captain McDonald, for Rio, 
 and she given up for lost and the in- 
 surance paid on ship and cargo more nor 
 a year agone. How'd he git here ? Will 
 yez tell me that, now ? " 
 
 That was a question no one about the 
 ship could answer. The mate of the big 
 ship, the men about her deck, the loung- 
 ers on the adjoining pier were all ques- 
 tioned, but not one of them had seen him 
 before Spook Maguire, one of the loung- 
 ers, so called because of his affection for 
 the mysterious, saw him struggling to get 
 his fingers into the seams between the 
 planks near the water-line of the big 
 clipper. 
 
 The Sifter of Rumors followed the am- 
 bulance to Kelly's place along with the 
 usual riffraff that forms the wake of these 
 vehicles as they plough their way about 
 the streets of New York. Kelly's place 
 was a four-story brick building, painted
 
 22 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 yellow, with a cheerful saloon in the base- 
 ment and a barren sitting-room on the 
 first floor front. Above this the floors 
 were cut up into little rooms with two 
 beds in each of them, except those at the 
 front ends of the halls, which had but one 
 bed each. These were for the use of the 
 mates and captains who sometimes pat- 
 ronized Kelly. 
 
 Into one of these hall-rooms Jack was 
 carried and there cared for by the sur- 
 geon. The. Kelly and the Sifter of Ru- 
 mors helped to remove the man's cloth- 
 ing and rubbed him with dry cloths and 
 did such other things as are commonly 
 done for the partly drowned. After a 
 while Jack opened his eyes, and the sur- 
 geon gave him a stimulant of some kind 
 that still further revived him. After look- 
 ing at each of the three men present 
 severely, he recognized Kelly. 
 
 " It's all straight and reg'lar," he asked, 
 " about this bein' New York? "
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 23 
 
 " Yis, hyar y' are, Jack," said Kelly. 
 " What Oi'm wantin" to ax yez is, how'd 
 yez git hyar, and whar yez might av left 
 the Nucleus ? " 
 
 "Aye, the Nucleus," said Jack, in a low 
 voice, with his eyes on the ceiling as if 
 he were looking through it to something a 
 good ways beyond. " She's in port, The.; 
 I don't understand it, but I'd a been there 
 now ef I had kept my eye on the Atlantic 
 steamship when we bumped up alongside 
 of her. I was picking a rope yarn as was 
 dangling about on the spanker boom, 
 ontidy as a cobweb in a parlor, when her 
 guard rail struck us on the stabbord quar- 
 ter, and the shock threw me into the 
 water. While I was floundering about 
 some one grabbed me by the hair, and 
 the next I knew I was on the deck of 
 that 'ere big clipper at the foot of Wall 
 Street." 
 
 "He's wandering yet," said the sur- 
 geon to Kelly. " The Atlantic, you know,
 
 24 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 was the big steam packet that sailed for 
 Liverpool some time in the fifties and was 
 never heard of again. There were sev- 
 eral hundred passengers on her." 
 
 "Aye," said Jack. "The deck was 
 covered with 'em, but I was under water 
 and out agin that suddin I don't know 
 whether she lowered a boat or not." 
 
 " Tell us all about it, ' said the sur- 
 geon, whose curiosity happened just then 
 to be stronger than his professional zeal. 
 
 " Give it to us straight, Jack," added 
 Kelly. "Take yer deparcher from the 
 Hook, see? Did Spencer thump all 
 hands before yez dropped the Neversink 
 as Oi promised yez ? " 
 
 " Aye," said Jack, rallying, at the 
 thought, " Spencer was as handy with his 
 daddies as any mate I was ever ship- 
 mates with, and he didn't limit himself in 
 nowise in the matter o 1 implements for the 
 crackin' of a sailorman on the nut. Bein' 
 somewhat quicker on my pins than the
 
 26 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 most of 'em, ef I do say it, I didn't get 
 my sheer of the hard knocks, but don't 
 none of you go to thinkin' he was that 
 partial as to neglect me altogether. It 
 was a heap more knocks nor doughboys 
 for all hands. 
 
 " Hows'ever, that's nither here nor 
 there. We had fair slants of wind till 
 we be to strike the no'theast trades, some- 
 where in about 21 degrees of latitude, 
 and mayhap 32 of longitude, and then the 
 weather began to thicken and the glass 
 went down ter'ble. The wind, as had 
 been singin' sweet for a week or more in 
 the riggin', begin for to tune up. That 
 was during the afternoon watch, and we 
 on deck, somewheres about June 21. The 
 watch be to get in the kites suddin', see, 
 and then all hands was turned to to snug 
 her down. 
 
 " 'Twant no reg'lar storm, d'ye mind 
 that. The weather just thickened till 
 the sun got the color of a ghost, then
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 2/ 
 
 went out like a fog had covered it, and 
 the wind increasin' sure and steady like, 
 and the waves rollin' up faster nor I'm 
 tellin' of it. Not that we had much time 
 for noticin' these things ; that 'ere Spen- 
 cer were right after us. First he scattered 
 us about stowin' the flyin' jib and the fore 
 and mizzen to'-gallant-s'ls. Then he 
 bunched us into two lots and driv one 
 on 'em to the main to'-gallant and t'other 
 to brail the spanker. 
 
 " By the time that was done the wind 
 was boomin' and the rain comin' down 
 in solid chunks fit to knock a man off the 
 yard, and things was gettin" lively. 
 
 ' ' ' Lower away yer fore and mizzen top- 
 sail halyards. Lay aft to the main clew- 
 garnets and buntlines. Ease away yer 
 tack and sheet Made a mistake there, 
 eh ? Too much of a hurry, eh ? ' Up 
 goes the old Nucleus's stern, on a comber 
 as gripes her under the weather quarter 
 and tosses her vip where the seffer as was
 
 28 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 bowlin' along gives 'er one for keeps, and 
 the next minute that 'ere mainsail were 
 slatted clean outen her bolt ropes. 
 Swear ? You bet Knock the men end- 
 wise as let go of the tack and sheet? 
 One on 'em, The ; only one on 'em, fer 
 Spencer hisself was at the tack. 
 
 " ' Now aft agin and get both the miz- 
 zen topsails,' for no man could steer and 
 she a gripin' so. ' Up you go and furl that 
 upper topsail. Now, down on deck and 
 clew up the lower.' Jump or Spencer'll 
 lay yer head open. ' Clewlins and bunt- 
 lins, slack away to leeward. Now you've 
 got 'er. Ease off to windward. ' Boom ! 
 The old ship rose on another big comb- 
 er, and away went the upper main top- 
 sail. 
 
 " ' Now git aloft and furl the mizzen 
 before it blows away, too. No use, yer 
 too late.' In spite of yer clewlins and yer 
 buntlins, she begins to slat out and you'd 
 better look for'ard a bit. For'ard we
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 29 
 
 runs, chased by the mate like a flock o' 
 sheep with a dog arter 'em, and lucky 
 we did, for just then one of them com- 
 bers as had been chasin' us up catches 
 and walks over the quarter, sweepin' 
 things clean. Good luck the man at 
 the wheel had lashed hisself fast, and 
 the captain were under the weather rail, 
 or else both 'ud gone overboard sure. 
 
 "How long will she stand that? Not 
 long, me b'y. The gale's risin', and the 
 seas gettin' up stiddy. Better lay 'er 
 to. Aye. We'll lay 'er to. ' Man the 
 jib down -haul. That's well ; now the 
 forestaysail.' Lay out there and furl 
 'em ? No. Too late for that. The man 
 as goes out there washes off. ' Git the 
 fore-lower topsail then, and be quick 
 about it.' Aye. We do that. Now for 
 the foresail', and then we'll put the helm 
 down and see her come up. That's what 
 we think. We man the strings again. 
 We're savin" the ship now. Ease off
 
 30 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 the tack first. Zip! zip! Boom! We 
 didn't save no foresail, that's for sartin. 
 
 "Ha! she was boiling along in a 
 smother of foam without any canvas a 
 pulling, but the main-lower topsail, but 
 t'want no fun, ef we were a headin' of 
 our course. ' Git a tarpaulin in the 
 weather mizzen riggin" and cut away 
 that flappin' headgear.' No. The gale 
 saves us part of that work, and makes 
 more, for a big sea shoves the ship's 
 nose under like a rootin 1 hog's, and 
 when she wallers up out of it she leaves 
 'er jib-boom behind in the water and the 
 foreto'-gallant mast goes over to stab- 
 bord. Now we go at it with axes to clear 
 the stuff away, and then we're ready to 
 bring her up to the wind. 
 
 " It's an even chance that she won't 
 make it, but if we hold on as we are we 
 are lost for sartin. ' 
 
 " ' Lay aft all. Haul in the lee braces 
 and ease away to windward. That's
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 3! 
 
 well ; belay. Now git yer tarpaulin in- 
 to the mizzen-riggin'. Stand by, you at 
 wheel, and when you git the word jump 
 on 'er, d'ye hear? Wait a minute, till 
 this big 'un clears us 
 
 " ' Now hard down ! hard down ! Jam 
 'er. ' " 
 
 " ' Aye, she's hard down, sir.' 
 
 " Great Lord, and still she hangs, and 
 there's a tidal wave makin' to windward ! 
 ' Show the peak of that spanker. Haul 
 her out ! Haul, you ' 
 
 "Too late! Too late! The wave's 
 atop of us, even as we git the word, and 
 we be to scamper like rats to git under 
 the rail or wherever we could get a line 
 to take a turn around ourselves with and 
 cling for life to it, and so the wave sweeps 
 slow across the deck, and the screamin' 
 o* that 'ere storm and the sight of it is 
 lost in the roaring waters that presses us 
 down and a' most crush the life out of 
 us."
 
 32 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 As he told the story of the gale the 
 sailor became more and more flushed 
 and excited until he came to tell how 
 they vainly tried to get her head to the 
 wind. Here he rose up in bed and bel- 
 lowed the orders at the top of his voice, 
 and struck out with his fists as if driving 
 obdurate seamen before him. Then he 
 fell back, saying, " too late," and half 
 gasped for breath as he told of the crush- 
 ing weight of water that bore down on the 
 ill-starred ship. 
 
 This done, he stopped talking for a 
 time, while the look of anxiety that had 
 been on his face slowly gave way to one 
 of peace. Closing his eyes for a time he 
 opened them with a smile on his face and 
 went on with his story. 
 
 " How long we was under that 'ere 
 wave is more nor I knows, but it seemed 
 like a trick at the wheel in the mid-watch. 
 We just hung on to our lashin's and held 
 our breath till I was ready to give up that
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 33 
 
 the ship had gone down. Then all onex- 
 pected the wave passed away, and the 
 Nucleus was atop agin, but I was that 
 beat out I dropped down on the deck. 
 
 "While I was a layin' there onable to 
 help myself and waiting for Spencer to 
 come along and burst in my ribs with 
 the toe of his boot, and order all hands 
 to jump to that 'ere outhaul again, I feels 
 one o' them catspaws on my face what a 
 sweetheart o' mine used to call gentle 
 seffers. I opened my eyes suddint at 
 that ere, and what d'ye think? The 
 storm wind, clouds, and the whole 
 smother of it had passed away with 
 that 'ere tidal wave, and there we was 
 a rollin' in as pretty a seaway as ever 
 the trades kicked up. I never hear of 
 a storm, as lasted like ourn had, goin' 
 away that suddint, but there was no 
 denyin' what I see with my own eyes 
 arter I'd rubbed 'em wery hard to make 
 sure on 'em. So I makes shift to git on
 
 34 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 my pins again, and has a severe look 
 around to see whar them clouds had 
 gone, and didn't see nothin' of 'em no- 
 where." 
 
 "Wonderful change of the weather, 
 that," remarked the surgeon. 
 
 "True for it, sir; but strange things 
 be to happen in them latitudes, and I 
 don't pretend to understand 'em at all, 
 nither, sir. Hows'ever, there was the 
 ship with her top hamper in a ter'ble 
 mess we be to understand that ; there 
 was the men crawlin' from their lashin's 
 and what not, as they'd been hangin' on 
 to, and nary a one be to. lose the number 
 of his mess ; there was the officers and 
 the man at the wheel all on us more 
 nor less used up, in course, but all on 
 ns oncommon well pleased to find the 
 Nucleus on top agin, and the storm 
 gone. 
 
 "As I was a sayin', though, sailormen 
 on ships as has had their sticks knocked
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 
 
 35 
 
 outen them don't have no time to go a 
 pherloserphizin' about things they don't 
 know knothin' about, and you'd a lay yer 
 last dollar on that 'ere ef you'd seen 
 the mate start for'd the moment he'd 
 got a bit over the daze what the weight 
 o' the water 'ud give him. 
 
 " ' Here, git up, y' lazy dev ,' says he ; 
 and then he clapped a stopper on to that 
 'ere, and didn't finish his remark, while 
 a quare sort of a look come over his face. 
 So he swallers wery hard like suthin' was 
 into his throat, and heads away on a dif- 
 ferent tack, some'at. 
 
 " ' Now, then, me bullies,' he says, 
 ' clap on to them fore and main staysail 
 halliards and snake 'em up. Hard down 
 with yer wheel thar, Jimmie, and we'll 
 have her nose to sothard agin, eh? ' " 
 
 " Hold fast, Jack," said Kelly. ' ' Give 
 us the straight on it, see ? D' ye mane 
 to soy them was Spencer's wurrads ? " 
 
 " Aye, in course."
 
 36 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " Poor Jack," said The., mournfully, 
 "and him sich a fine mon in his day. 
 Would a sup of ould rye help 'im a bit 
 now, docther, do yez think ? " 
 
 The doctor, impatient at the interrup- 
 tion, gestured dissent, and Jack, with a 
 grin at The. 's mournfulness, continued : 
 
 " Done him good to git the life squeezed 
 outen his gall, hey? That's what I 
 thought then, anyhow. But that 'ere's 
 nither here nor thar, for we be to clap on 
 to them halliards, and so, the helm bein' 
 down and the head of her to sou'west, 
 and the wind easted, we're soon comin' 
 to. 
 
 "'How's her head?' says Spencer, 
 when the sinkin' sun comes abeam. 
 
 " ' The binnacle's bust,' the man says, 
 arter he has a look at the compass ; and 
 when the captain and the mates has a 
 look at the binnacle and then at the tell- 
 tales into the cabin they find there's nary 
 a compass on board but's bust, while even
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 37 
 
 the two chronommyters was stopped out 
 o' hand when the wave struck us. I don't 
 remember to a ever hearin' of a ship git- 
 tin' quite that shorthanded in the matter 
 o 1 navigatin' implements. Hows'ever, 
 matters might a been worse, as the cap- 
 tain said, for any one can steer to sothard 
 when he can see the sun and stars ; and 
 so arter a lookout were sent to straddle 
 the r'yal yard if so be any other ship 
 might be sighted as we could get a com- 
 pass of, as well as the time at Greenwich, 
 we fell to makin' sail and repairin' dam- 
 ages. 
 
 " I don't need to go spinnin' to you 
 about that ere, only I make bold to say 
 that when me an' the second mate got 
 the new jib-boom ready for to be shipped 
 at the end o' the mid-watch arter eight 
 hours' work, there didn't never nobody 
 see a dandier one nor it." 
 
 " But what about your meals all this 
 time ? " asked the Sifter of Rumors.
 
 38 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 "Ay, the grub. We didn't even have 
 a biscuit. Forgot it clean, from feeling 
 that oncommon good over our narrer es- 
 cape, I reckon, and bein' all took up with 
 gettin' of her to rights. Jim McCaig, the 
 doctor, in course he goes ahead and gits 
 supper ready, but when he were ready to 
 sarve it the old man says : 
 
 " ' Avast ! whatever is the use o' bother- 
 in' and interferin' with men as is enjoyin' 
 of themselves ? ' and Jim, he says, ' True 
 for it, sir, whatever is it ? ' and so there 
 didn't no supper git sarved. But when 
 Captain McDonald see that "ere jib-boom 
 me an' the second mate had blocked out, 
 he wanted ter do suthin 1 , I reckon, as 'ud 
 show us he sot a vally on our work. 
 
 " ' Gentlemen,' he says, ' that's the 
 fashion'blest stick I ever see. Why, any 
 heathen cannyble in the middle o" Africa 
 as never see a ship 'ud know what it were ; 
 but afore we ship it I'm a thinkin' we'll 
 pipe to breakfast,' an' we did. We hadn't
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 39 
 
 had it a weighin 1 on our minds afore, but 
 when we gits our messkids full we was 
 sharp set and no better stores was ever 
 sarved aboard ship." 
 
 " Must 'av served cabin grub to yous 
 gintlemen" said Kelly with marked em- 
 phasis. He had snorted at Jack's use of 
 the word "gentlemen." 
 
 " I don't dispute y', The.," said Jack, 
 in a helpless sort of a way. ' ' Things 
 never was the same arter that 'ere wave 
 swept over us. I hain't got no learnin', 
 The., and can't give no whys nor why- 
 fors." 
 
 " How far did you find you'd sailed and 
 drifted during the storm ? " asked the 
 Sifter of Rumors. 
 
 " Ay, the latitude and longitude. 'Twar 
 a lettle cur'us, now I think on it, though 
 nobody didn't hold no convention in the 
 lee of the galley for to consider it then. 
 When the old man found his chronommy- 
 ters was bust he says, and he says it quite
 
 40 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 solemn : ' We be to sail by dead reckon- 
 in". ' 
 
 " We hove the log as soon as ever we 
 got all plain sail onto her and she were a 
 reelin' off eight knots, and from that 'ere 
 time we never teched glass nor reel. 
 
 " Arter breakfast, see, which it were 
 arly and afore seven bells, the old man 
 said for to call the watch and the rest turn 
 in, which we weren't expectin' nor axin' 
 for, seein' we was feelin' all right and all 
 that 'ere work to do, and so I makes bold 
 to say as we was ready to turn to. But 
 the captain he says stow that 'ere, for 
 'taint square for no man to do no more 
 nor he signed articles for, and so we turns 
 in. As for me, I no sooner lost my reck- 
 onin' in my bunk nor I went off dream- 
 in' I was carpenter an' cooper aboard a 
 whalin' vessel. Hows'ever that's nither 
 here nor thar, only I be to dream the stuff 
 every watch below. 
 
 " As I was a sayin', so soon as ever we
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 4! 
 
 gits the new spars on end and the yards 
 crossed and the canvas bent, we turns to 
 and begins to paint her. Spencer he ex- 
 plains that this 'ere breeze from eastard 
 and sothard was a liftin' of her across the 
 doldrums, and we be to make port in 
 three or four weeks. So we gits up the 
 paint pots, and the second mate he serves 
 out white lead and ile say, ye never see 
 the likes of it ; none of yer yellerish fever- 
 colored common stuff, mind, but a gen- 
 nuin' white like the smother under the 
 bows of her, see, and we begins at the 
 truck and we paints down, includin' 
 doublin's of the masts and the yards and 
 the lower masts fit for a gentleman's 
 yatchet. Then, in course, we takes the 
 hull in hand and done that likewise, and 
 what with a runnin" a belt o' carmine 
 around 'er in the wake o' the plankshear, 
 and a touchin' up the gold scrolls under 
 her bowsprit, and a polishin' of the bright 
 work, she were gall us.
 
 42 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " Hows'ever, that wasn't all we done. 
 When Captain McDonald he comes for'd 
 fer to have a severe look around and says 
 as how we'd done him proud, we gives 
 him a surprise party as was a stunner to 
 him, and now I comes to think on it, it 
 were quare. It was as I be to tell, but 
 how it were and the whys and the where- 
 fors, as The. may be puttin' in his oar for 
 to ask, I can't say." 
 
 He stopped talking for a moment at 
 this, as if considering " the whys and the 
 whyfors," but continued shortly. 
 
 " We be for to notice afore we'd been 
 puttin' her to rights many days that when 
 we done anything it were done to stay. 
 There didn't no bright work turn yeller 
 and green, nor no iron work as was rubbed 
 up to sparkle get no rust on to it no more : 
 and no scrubbin' of the decks arter we 
 done it once, nor no chafin' gear wearin' 
 out. So in our trick below we turns to 
 unbeknownst to the captain and polishes
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 43 
 
 up the anchors till you'd a tuk yer dyin 1 
 oath they was silver plate from shackle 
 pin to crown, and didn't the old man's 
 eyes bung out some'at when he see us 
 snatch the tarpaulins off as we'd covered 
 'em up with ? 
 
 " With that we says, ' Captain, is it the 
 standin' riggin' next ? ' and he says, ' It be 
 and I'm with ye,' and what does we do but 
 turn to and polish them 'ere shrouds and 
 stays, every wire and every inch on 'em, 
 and the chain-plates, until I reckon ef any 
 one 'ud been a steerin' our way, so as he 
 be to get the glint o' the sun on to us, 
 he'd a made sure our top-hamper was a 
 blazin' burnin' offen us. Last of all, one 
 at a time, we takes the sails down on deck 
 and scrubs 'em like snow, and when we 
 gits 'em done there we was, sailin' like 
 sailin' " 
 
 The sailor stopped talking again and 
 lay perfectly still, staring at the blank 
 wall, trying, perhaps, to think of words to
 
 44 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 fitly describe the ship as she then appeared 
 to him, but after a moment he shook his 
 head and continued. 
 
 " How long was we doin' of it? Give 
 it up. All I knows is I didn't care. It 
 were proper work for a sailorman and 
 couldn't last too long. That 'ere evening 
 arter we got it done, and all hands be to 
 eat supper in the cabin in honor on it, we 
 dresses up in our shore togs, and at four 
 bells the starboard watch be to eat first. 
 We was all on the quarter deck, and, be- 
 in* carpenter, I was a leadin' the way 
 down into the cuddy and the captain 
 standin' at the foot of the ladder ready to 
 give us a hearty welcome when the look- 
 out as was a straddle the fer-r'yal yard 
 sings out : 
 
 " ' Sa-a-i-1 ho-o-o ! One pint for'ard the 
 stab-bord be-e-am ! ' 
 
 " With that we all rushes down to the 
 stabbord rail Sure enough, there be the 
 r'yals and the to'gallants'ls of a full rig
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 45 
 
 ship jest a pokin' across the sun as was a 
 droppin' rapid out o' sight, and there we 
 stands leanin' out over that rail and strain- 
 in' our eyes till she crosses the sun and 
 gets fogged in by them colored hazes and 
 mistses beyand. 
 
 "So we be to have somethin' new ter 
 talk about at supper, and we gits that 'ere 
 strung up over it, not a one of us- be to 
 sleep a wink that blessed night, only 
 tramp the deck and work our jaw-tackles. 
 In course we'd kept away a bit, if so be 
 we might head her off. 
 
 " With the fust streak in the east away 
 we all goes to the r'yal yards and hangs 
 there, a peerin' into the dark and waitin'. 
 Our trick on the lookout weren't fer long, 
 hows'ever, for we soon sees a shadder of 
 her as the gray of the mornin' was a 
 spreadin', and then, suddin like, up comes 
 the sun. Whew ! I e'na'most fell offen the 
 yard. She were scrubbed and painted and 
 polished alow and aloft like the Nucleus.
 
 46 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " While we were a starin* there and a 
 never sayin' nothin', only breathin' hard, 
 we sees a line a hardenin' above the hori- 
 zon beyand her, which all on us recog- 
 nized to oncet, and we hails the deck 
 together. 
 
 ' ' ' Land ho-o-o ! ' 
 
 " Meantime the breeze had been fresh- 
 enin' with the risin' sun, and it drives us 
 swishing and splashing along and the 
 coast rises rapid. While we was waiting 
 for to git a some'at better squint at it we 
 notices the shore fishes to be oncom- 
 mon plenty more nor any of us ever see, 
 and such flocks of birds as I never hearn 
 on afore. In course we don't be to pay 
 much attention to them 'ere, only the 
 captain, as noticed "em likewise, says he 
 see plenty of birds among 'em as he sup- 
 posed had been done for long ago, and 
 in consequence we be to come to a island 
 or coast o' some sort what nobody didn't 
 know much about.
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 47 
 
 "So the captain and Mr. Spencer be 
 to keep screwing the binoculars into their 
 eyes and goin' down and lookin' at charts 
 by turns, and the more they looked the 
 puzzleder they gets, especial when they 
 sees a bay or harbor openin' out afore 
 them with two headlands of cur'us form 
 a guardin" of it. The both on 'em had 
 sailed the length of the whole coast of 
 America many's the time, and the Nu- 
 cleus were oncommon well found in 
 charts, but neither on 'em ever see or 
 hearn of a coast and harbor like this, and 
 so the captain he says we're comin' to a 
 port as ain't down in no chart, and if so 
 be it are a undiscovered country, all we 
 can do is to keep a sharp lookout. 
 
 " It were soon settled about it bein' a 
 country as hadn't been discovered, for 
 wery soon arter the captain were sayin' 
 of it we begins to sight sails atween 
 them headlands, and by and by, as that 
 'ere bay opens out afore us, we sees that

 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 49 
 
 a mighty fleet had gathered there. How 
 can I tell it to you what I see and make 
 you believe it, about the great open hulks 
 as had only one mast and was rowed with 
 oars and yet could carry the Nucleus's 
 cargo : the ships with jib-booms and no 
 jibs but squares'ls instid ; ships with lat- 
 een fores'ls and others with lateen mizzens, 
 and no end of other rigs such as no man 
 ever see nor no sailorman *ud have noth- 
 in' to do with, not to mention the craft 
 rigged as we've seen ships rigged afore- 
 time, and them as was shipshape, and 
 some as I remember of seein' afore. 
 Wherever did they all come from ? what- 
 ever were they there for ? How did we 
 happen to be sailin' into that ere harbor ? 
 Why did hundreds aye, hundreds on 
 them cur'us hulks, with cur'user flags and 
 streamers, and with their sails embroid- 
 ered all over with pictur's, and the crews 
 playing on no end o' musical instruments, 
 come out alongside the ship as was ahead
 
 SO STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 of us and give her a welcome heartylike, 
 as we could hear a mile away, and then 
 bear up to meet us ? " 
 
 "We tumbled down from aloft, and 
 standin' on the rail about the quarter- 
 deck, right glad as we'd got the ship to 
 rights in time, stood by to greet 'em as 
 was becomin* in a Yankee ship. I see 
 them as they comes veerin' around, I 
 sees the smiles on their faces, hears their 
 shouts and their music, notices in par- 
 tic'lar that 'ere big side-wheeler the At- 
 lantic, as was headin' for our lee quarter 
 like she would give us a line or suthin'; 
 and then Captain McDonald, as was a 
 looking' aft, happens to see a rope-yarn 
 a danglin' from the end o' the spanker- 
 boom as untidy as a cobweb in a lady's 
 parlor. Pintin' at it quick he whispers to 
 me : 
 
 " ' Mister Servenmalet, kindly remove 
 it.' 
 
 " I jumped fer to do it, feelin' wery
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHIPS 51 
 
 much ashamed on account of its bein' 
 there, and just as I gets my fingers on 
 to it that 'ere Atlantic with her big pad- 
 dlewheels reversed sweeps up alongside 
 and the swell bumps her agin our stab- 
 bord counter, and off I tumbles, with 
 the shock. I flounders about for a time 
 and then some one grabs me by the hair 
 and pulls me out. I opens my eyes 
 alas! I finds myself here." 
 
 The Sifter of Rumors had a copy of 
 the Commercial Bulletin in his pocket 
 He drew it out and began to glance down 
 the column headed " Marine News." An 
 item caught his eye, and he read it aloud. 
 Here it is : 
 
 " NEW LONDON, October n. 
 
 " Whaling schooner Henrietta Hazel- 
 tine, Norton, from South Atlantic, ar- 
 rived with full cargo. June 22, 1886, 
 latitude 21 17' north, longitude 32 3' 
 west, during prolonged squall, in which
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 had main trysail carried away, saw ship 
 sink about half mile to leeward, being 
 swamped by a tidal wave, which the 
 Hazeltine rode in 
 safety. On drifting 
 down to where ship 
 disappeared, found 
 one man clinging 
 to a spare spar, and 
 having bad cut in 
 head. He after- 
 ward signed arti- 
 cles as Jack Ser- 
 venmalet, cooper 
 and carpenter. 
 Never fully recov- 
 ered mentally from 
 effect of wound, but did duty in a satis- 
 factory manner. He could not remember 
 name of ship, but talked in his sleep a 
 good deal about the New Class or some 
 such name of a ship." 
 The sailor listened attentively to the
 
 THE PORT OF MISSING SHPIS 53 
 
 reading of the item, and when it was 
 done said : 
 
 "The Henrietta Hazeltine, whaler, me 
 cooper and carpenter. Sure, that do be 
 the name. Cur'us things be to happen 
 at sea, eh ? " 
 
 After a few minutes he turned on his 
 side, and putting out his hand took hold 
 of Kelly's, and then said, in a lower 
 tone : 
 
 " Matey, did ye say the Nucleus had 
 been missing nigh hand to a year 'n 
 more, and that that 'ere Atlantic were 
 a missing steamship too. I don't know, 
 I don't think so. I think I be to go back 
 to the Nucleus, matey. My head feels a 
 bit quare, but I reckon I'll soon make that 
 'ere harbor and that 'ere fleet agin." 
 
 And he did. He turned to the wall, 
 at this, smiling at the thought of once 
 more joining his shipmates in the beauti- 
 ful harbor, and closed his eyes as if to 
 sleep. A clock in the barren sitting-room
 
 54 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 below began to strike, and the sailorman 
 counted the strokes of the bell in a whis- 
 per. 
 
 "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, 
 eight. Aye, aye, sir ; eight bells. All the 
 starboard watch, sir." 
 
 He sprang up from his pillow as if to 
 leave the bed, and then dropped back 
 again and lay perfectly still. The sur- 
 geon looked alarmed now and hastily 
 felt of his pulse. There was none in 
 wrist nor temple, nor could any beating 
 of the heart be felt. Jack Servenmalet 
 had gone to meet the crew of the missing 
 Nucleus He was dead.
 
 THE FATE OF THE 
 GEORGIANA 
 
 BY MARIA BLUNT
 
 CONANICUT is a pleasant 
 place to spend a summer. 
 Of late years, indeed, so 
 many people have thought 
 so that its pleasantness has been dimin- 
 ished and, for some shy spirits, destroyed. 
 But if its favored and advertised locali- 
 ties have been improved to their ruin, 
 there are tracts along the rugged line of 
 shore, among the " Dumplings " and the 
 huckleberry bushes, as yet unspoiled. 
 Here the land is broken into steep, sugar- 
 loaf hills whose ribs of rock are covered 
 with wiry grass, slippery to unaccustomed
 
 58 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 feet ; and, extending into the water, these 
 hills form a fringe of small conical islands 
 displaying more rock and less grass than 
 they show on shore. 
 
 They are the Dumplings seething in the 
 giants' caldron of soup when the storms 
 descend from the ocean. 
 
 If this is not a pleasing simile I am not 
 responsible, for such is the local tradition, 
 embodied in the local name. Whatever 
 else they are, they are picturesque : in 
 tempests, when the waves are flung upon 
 them in spray ; or in calms, when each 
 " floats double," looking down upon its 
 shadow. 
 
 To the left is Newport Harbor, its break- 
 water and Fort Adam^: to the right, the 
 slim point of Beaver Tail and the open 
 ocean. 
 
 Here blows the salt breath of the Atlan- 
 tic, untainted by drainage ; here break 
 foam-tipped billows, unvexed by bathing- 
 ropes ; here, below the tapering hills and
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 59 
 
 bristling, pointed rocks, the gulls still 
 watch for fish, as above them the few an- 
 cient farm-houses, gray, storm-beaten, 
 and lonely, watch their bleak sheep-ranges 
 and the wide sea. Here man may come 
 though we selfishly hope he will not 
 and close to Newport and its pageants, 
 its social splendor, its naval pomp, its 
 military parade, with all the dash and 
 glitter of a gay world before his eyes, may 
 live the life of a hermit or a savage. 
 
 By which of these names the owners of 
 two or three jaunty little cottages, perched 
 high upon the cliffs, would wish to be de- 
 scribed, I do not know, but I do know that 
 when one of the quaintly fashioned, soft- 
 toned, peaked a*d gabled structures was 
 offered to Dick Kimball, he felt himself 
 an unexpectedly lucky man. 
 
 Dick had been for some years chief 
 buyer for a prominent jobbing house and 
 was considered a man of push and energy. 
 These qualities had lately led him to start
 
 60 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 in business for himself, and he was spoken 
 of as " rising." Now, as one seldom rises 
 with a bound, but advances, like history, 
 along a slow spiral, Dick found, as others 
 have done, that if there is more glory in 
 independent transactions there is more 
 safety in an assured salary. 
 
 For a time there seemed to be nothing 
 very certain about his business except its 
 bad debts. 
 
 So he and Julia economized, wore their 
 old clothes, and hopefully indulged in 
 more or less expensive experiments in 
 marketing on co-operative principles. 
 During the winter they talked very brave- 
 ly of staying in the city all summer, and 
 Julia said she could take the children to 
 the Park for air and exercise. 
 
 But when the heats came and the sun 
 on the pavements began to look white, and 
 the breath from the streets was such that 
 no one knew which was worse, the hot, 
 foul air outside, or the close, foul air in-
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 6l 
 
 side, Julia weakened and declared the 
 baby could never stand it. They must go 
 somewhere to open fields and trees any- 
 where details could be arranged after- 
 ward. But details, when they pressed for 
 arrangement, did not prove so manage- 
 able and she was still worrying, undecided, 
 when one warm evening Dick came home 
 to dinner with a letter in his pocket. 
 
 "There, Julia," he said, throwing it 
 down by her plate. " There's luck. The 
 Browns are going to Europe." 
 
 "Yes, if they like it," Julia answered 
 languidly, for the weather was oppressive 
 and her luck had seemed small. 
 
 " Well, Brown's as good a fellow as he 
 always was when he was foot of our class, 
 and I had to help him scrape through. 
 Success doesn't spoil him a bit. He knows 
 I've been hard up this year. Read the 
 letter. He wants us to take his cottage 
 near Newport for the summer." 
 
 " A cottage near Newport! " cried Julia,
 
 62 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 breathless. " Why, Dick, you are dream- 
 ing! If we can't afford Bayshore, or the 
 
 Catskills ! You know I haven't a 
 
 dress ; and as for the children " 
 
 " But it isn't that Nothing of the sort. 
 Flannel dresses and ginghams or sack- 
 cloth and ashes if you choose. I lived in 
 a tennis shirt and knickerbockers when I 
 was there that summer before we were 
 married, don't you remember? Lovely 
 place, lots of sailing and fishing. We 
 both said, when we got rich we would 
 build there. Brown got rich faster than I 
 did, and you see he has done it. He and 
 Sidney that's his wife's brother, you 
 know each have cottages. They spend 
 the summers there, painting. But this 
 year, as you see, Brown says he's going 
 abroad." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Dick's pretty sister 
 Georgie, looking over Julia's shoulder, 
 1 ' American art must be flourishing. Why 
 aren't you an artist, Dick? Pictures must
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 63 
 
 sell better than wool if Mr. Brown and 
 Mr. Sidney get seaside cottages and trips 
 to Europe out of theirs." 
 
 "They don't," said Dick, promptly. 
 " Not a bit of it. Brown's pictures sell 
 very well, but they never built that cot- 
 tage. Just wait till you hear him on the 
 grossness of the American public ! No, 
 it was more likely wool, for when old 
 Henry Sidney died he stood at the head 
 of the trade. He left a big pile and there 
 were only Mrs. Brown and her brother to 
 share it. They can do what they like. 
 Perhaps," Dick added, with a half-pa- 
 thetic glance at his own curly-headed heir, 
 " Bobby can be a painter too, some day, 
 if I stick to wool." 
 
 Julia jumped up and ran to his end of 
 the table, regardless of etiquette, or even 
 of the example she set to Master Bobby. 
 
 "I don't care how nice Mr. Brown is, I 
 won't take his cottage. And leave you ! 
 Why, Dick, I could not do it."
 
 64 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 But she finally did The offer was 
 really too good to be refused, and of 
 course Dick protested that he longed to 
 be left, and talked jocosely of bachelor 
 freedom, Coney Island, and the peanut 
 galleries. Besides, he would often run up 
 to see them. 
 
 A hot wave came on. One of the chil- 
 dren fell ill. Georgie packed the trunks 
 with the thermometer at 90, and after an 
 uncomfortable night on the Newport boat, 
 Mrs. and Miss Kimball, two children, and 
 the very important personage who had 
 been induced to come with them as cook, 
 stood among their bags and bundles on 
 the high cottage balcony and turned their 
 bleached faces seaward to the strong salt 
 air. 
 
 They knew at once that they had done 
 wisely and well, and began to put things 
 to rights with enthusiasm. In this task 
 they were much assisted, and their enthu- 
 siasm was sustained, by the kindness of
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 65 
 
 their neighbor, Mr. Sidney, who prompt- 
 ly came over from the adjoining cottage, 
 initiated them into the ways of the island 
 and the islanders engaged a boy for 
 them, placed his boats and man at their 
 disposal, and introduced his friend Jack 
 Horner, who was spending a vacation 
 with him. 
 
 " Another artist," Georgie wrote to 
 Dick. " They do thrive surprisingly out 
 here. But I believe Mr. Horner is not 
 rich. He might as well be in wool. He 
 can paint, though. At least Mr. Sidney 
 says so, and that he is truly a genius. I 
 hope he is, but I know he can swim mag- 
 nificently, and they are teaching Julia 
 and me to row. We should be perfectly 
 happy if only you could come. We hate 
 to think of you in the hot city while we 
 " etc., etc. 
 
 Dick did come, when he could, to 
 spend the Sundays, sometimes adding a 
 Saturday or Monday, when the three men
 
 66 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 would go out in Sidney's boats and fish 
 all day, coming back sunburned and 
 happy, whether they caught anything or 
 not. 
 
 Julia established a small table and an 
 urn upon the balcony and made coffee 
 there in the summer evenings, and Sid- 
 ney and Homer testified their approval 
 by coming over very regularly to drink it. 
 
 Georgie found them delightful compan- 
 ions. She was bright and active, and 
 could play tennis and handle a pair of 
 oars to admiration. On hot mornings 
 when a land breeze made these sports un- 
 attractive, the balcony was still the cool- 
 est place, and the two men formed a 
 habit of loitering there. 
 
 There would be needlework and talk ; 
 they even were not above reading aloud. 
 By and by Sidney, with some diffidence, 
 set up his easel and begged permission to 
 put Miss Georgie's shapely head upon it, 
 and after that she sat quite regularly.
 
 " < r '' 
 
 Horner looked on and criticised. Julia 
 suggested effects of costume and drapery. 
 It was all very cosey and intimate. 
 
 II. 
 
 "ANYHOW, I can paint a boat. She's 
 as dainty as a shell. Who'd know her for 
 the old tub we pried off the rocks yon- 
 der ?" 
 
 A fresh breeze blew briskly from the 
 sea. The crisp waves ran before it, toss- 
 ing their foamy crests. The wet rocks 
 glistened ; the water glanced and spar- 
 kled ; the radiant sunlight gave the air a 
 67
 
 68 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 metallic glitter like tiny points of dia- 
 mond dust White breakers chased each 
 other on Agassiz's Point, and across the 
 bay a few reefed sails were scudding with 
 the swift-winged gulls. One felt the rush 
 of the world through space. 
 
 Below the cottages wooden stairs led 
 from ledge to ledge, down the steep sides 
 of a basin-shaped cove where Sidney's 
 various pleasure craft were rocking at 
 their moorings. A tiny sloop was laid up 
 on this sheltered beach, and, paint-pot in 
 hand, Horner wriggled out from under it. 
 He stopped half-way and, lying on his 
 back, put some extra touches to the stern, 
 where the name, " Georgiana," shone re- 
 splendent in gold on a buff ground. 
 
 " You've made those letters big 
 enough,' said Sidney. 
 
 " "Tis to be read afar," retorted Hor- 
 ner. "The meteor of the seas. If you 
 give a month to the lady's portrait, shall 
 I take less pains with her name ? "
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 69 
 
 " She says it is not her name," mur- 
 mured Sidney, maliciously, but the wind 
 blew his words away. He was crouching, 
 for protection against this wind, behind a 
 big bowlder and was painting a jutting 
 point of rocks over which the waves were 
 dashing. With his pocket box of colors 
 and a handful of fine brushes, he had 
 managed to catch the spirit of the breezy 
 morning, the wide sea and brilliant sky, 
 upon a foot, or so, of paper. 
 
 Homer came up and leaned over the 
 bowlder, rubbing his daubed fingers. 
 
 " Your perspective tilts a good deal, 
 seems to me," he said, but presently he 
 burst out, " By Jove, I don't see how you 
 do it. It's more wonderful than genius 
 of which, you know, you haven't a spark 
 
 Or, no, it is genius, the genius of 
 
 manipulation." 
 
 "Well," said Sidney, serenely, "what 
 is all genius but the power to do ? " 
 
 "Now if I had been doing that," pur-
 
 70 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 sued Homer, still stretching over the 
 rock, " I should have wanted a canvas as 
 big as the side of a church, something 
 huge and inspiring like the ocean out 
 there. But here you have it on an insig- 
 nificant scrap, as if you had seen it 
 through the small end of a spy-glass. It 
 is positively immoral. You belittle nat- 
 ure." 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Sidney, smil- 
 ing, " what value has size in art? " 
 
 " But how can you see in such alight ? " 
 Horner grumbled. " This intolerable 
 dazzle would put my eyes out." 
 
 " If I waited till everything suited me, 
 how much would I ever do ? " asked Sid- 
 ney, going over his shadows with a care- 
 ful hand. 
 
 The relationship between these two, 
 though close, was peculiar. It dated from 
 their school-days, when Horner, as the 
 more experienced and muscular, had 
 stood Sidney's friend with aggressive
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 71 
 
 classmates, and although Sidney had 
 since repaid this kindness many times, 
 their relative positions had never greatly 
 altered. Horner was still the better man, 
 in his own eyes and in those of his friend. 
 Yet Sidney was rich and Horner poor. 
 More than this, Sidney's family connec- 
 tions opened to him literary and artistic 
 circles we will not call them rings that 
 Horner could scarcely have entered alone. 
 His was a sporadic genius springing from 
 meagre soil, and he might have struggled 
 uselessly his life long, but for the lucky 
 chance that united him to Sidney. Yet it 
 was he who seemed to give. A certain 
 obtuseness is often part of the endowment 
 of rich and simple natures, and Homer's 
 affection for Sidney had never quite lost 
 the slight tinge of patronage with which it 
 started an attitude easily made ridicu- 
 lous, had it not been so unconscious and 
 sincere. Its justification was his greater 
 power, a fact, although it must be said
 
 72 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 that as yet he had not done very much to 
 prove it. Sidney, working with method 
 and precision, unswayed by wayward 
 impulses, quietly increased in artistic 
 stature and in favor with critics and hang- 
 ing-committees. He was, in short, suc- 
 cessful, and we all know that only the dis- 
 appointed care to sift too carefully the 
 causes of success. Horner, at times, 
 came perilously near this latter class. 
 
 He made his daily bread with condi- 
 ments by illustrations for various peri- 
 odicals, but although this is honorable 
 employment, it failed to satisfy him. His 
 ambitions were vast and vague, and filled 
 him with their restlessness. He was for- 
 ever planning largely and working furi- 
 ously, until he dropped exhausted and 
 was obliged to lie by and gather strength 
 for another onset 
 
 One of these forced recruiting seasons 
 was upon him now, and he was defending 
 himself against its depression as best he
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 73 
 
 could, fretting secretly at his idleness, 
 but rowing, fishing, and swimming as if 
 such pastimes were the end and aim of 
 his being. He walked all over the island 
 and sailed all over the bay, and finally 
 wreaked his reviving energies upon an 
 old boat that he found stranded on the 
 rocks. Having repaired her, he painted 
 her, and regarded his work with much 
 satisfaction, as we have seen. 
 
 As, less contentedly, he watched Sid- 
 ney's nimble fingers, a riotous gust struck 
 him and whirled his cap from his head. 
 When he caught and replaced it, his eyes 
 travelled round the little harbor with its 
 boats. 
 
 "Where's the skiff?" he asked, ab- 
 ruptly. 
 
 " Miss Kimball has it," Sidney an- 
 swered, without looking up from his work. 
 
 " Why didn't you make Bates take a 
 heavier boat such a day? By the way, 
 Bates went, I hope, and not Frank."
 
 74 STORIES OF THE SKA 
 
 "I why, really I don't know." Sid- 
 ney put down his brushes and looked 
 troubled. "I meant to go with her my- 
 self, but she got off before we were down. 
 But I suppose so. She would not want a 
 boy with the sea like this." 
 
 "Heaven knows what she'd want; I 
 don't," Horner muttered, half under his 
 breath. "Whatever it is, it's likely to 
 be more than I can fathom. But I know 
 what I want that she should not pass the 
 Point in a cockle-shell to-day. " 
 
 Sidney looked gravely at the racing 
 breakers, then resumed his painting, as 
 with an effort, saying only : 
 
 " I think we may trust Bates." 
 
 Horner sat idly gazing at the Georgi- 
 ana, whistling softly to himself, when a 
 cry from Sidney startled him. 
 
 " By Jove ! It can't be." 
 
 " What where ? " 
 
 " Look there ! " 
 
 " Good ! "
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 75 
 
 A little skiff, wave-tossed, was slowly 
 rounding the Point, and in it, toiling in 
 rowing, sat Georgie, alone. Her hat was 
 blown back and lay upon her shoulders ; 
 a strand of her loosened hair curled over 
 it ; and her veil and fluttering ends of rib- 
 bon whipped about her head. Tti"ey were 
 picturesque, but made her look as if she 
 were flying signals of distress. 
 
 Both men sprang up and ran down to 
 the shore one had turned white. 
 
 They could see that she looked often 
 over her shoulder, as if anxious, and, al- 
 though she pulled stoutly, she was evi- 
 dently tired. The skiff made little prog- 
 ress ; the oars scarce held the water ; the 
 white-caps danced about her mockingly, 
 and the two men watched her in a tense 
 silence. Homer had even started back 
 to get another boat when Georgie, barely 
 clearing the outlying rocks, turned sharp 
 round under the temporary shelter of a 
 big Dumpling and headed directly for
 
 76 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 the shore. The wind was now at her 
 back, and the little boat, borne by an in- 
 coming wave, sped to land. They could 
 see her trying to guide it to the cove, and 
 she showed both skill and courage, but it 
 was quickly beyond her control. 
 
 As ft rushed up, Sidney and Homer 
 splashed into the water and caught the 
 prow. Georgie shipped her oars quickly, 
 a curling sea broke over them all, nearly 
 sweeping the men from their feet, filling 
 the boat with water, and flinging them all 
 forward, breathless from the shock, upon 
 the beach. Georgie clung desperately to 
 her seat ; Horner, struggling for a foot- 
 hold, lifted the skiff by main force and 
 ran it out of reach of the pursuing waves. 
 As the last one broke ineffectually behind 
 them, Sidney held out his hand to Geor- 
 gie, who rose with an affectation of ease 
 and a panting attempt to laugh. 
 
 She shook out her drenched skirt, 
 tossed the hair from her forehead, looked
 
 78 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 brightly up a moment to challenge criti- 
 cism, but then leaned back against the 
 boat unable to conceal her exhaustion. 
 
 She was very pretty. The graceful 
 outlines of her figure, showing here and 
 there through the folds of her wet and 
 clinging garments, and the soft color of 
 her charming face were well set off 
 against the tilted skiff and a background 
 of blue sea. 
 
 But if the color-loving eyes that saw 
 her took involuntary note of these har- 
 monies, it was in no tone of admiration 
 that Horner began, excitedly : 
 
 "Of all the crazy things I ever heard 
 of, this exceeds. I did not think even 
 you could be guilty of such folly." 
 
 "Oh thank you," Georgie struggled 
 to say lightly. " How nice to exceed the 
 expectations of one's friends ! " 
 
 " You never should have done it. 
 Where was Bates ? Or Frank ? " 
 
 " I do not know. Busy, no doubt ? "
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 79 
 
 " You mean to say you have been all 
 the way to the Landing alone in that 
 shell in this gale ? And back ? Why 
 didn't you send for me? Great Powers 
 of Heaven ! It makes me cold to think 
 of it." 
 
 He seemed so. He was pale, almost 
 as breathless as she, looking at her with 
 a curious mixture of anger and entreaty. 
 
 She returned the look with a hint of 
 defiance, as if his tone incensed her. 
 
 "Why did you do it? What made 
 you ? Promise me never to do such a 
 thing again." 
 
 " You make too much of it," Georgie 
 answered, very quickly. " Nonsense. I 
 went because I liked. It was exhilarat- 
 ing. Good-by." 
 
 She turned lightly off. Sidney, who 
 had been busy about the boat and silent, 
 now came forward and, still silent, offered 
 his arm to lead her up the stairway. She 
 shook her head perhaps because she
 
 80 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 could not speak and sprang up the 
 steps ; then turned and laughingly waved 
 her hand back to them a bit of bravado 
 that did no good, for it only showed how 
 white she had become, and neither of the 
 men smiled. 
 
 Sidney presently gathered up his sketch- 
 ing paraphernalia and prepared to leave 
 the cove. " Are you coming ? " he asked, 
 as Homer made no motion to follow. 
 
 " I'm going for a stroll," Horner strove 
 to say, indifferently. "The day is too 
 fine for the house." 
 
 " I am going to get into something 
 dry," said Sidney, in an odd tone. " I 
 advise you to do the same." 
 
 " I'm not wet," said Horner, impatient- 
 ly. " At least " for he was soaked " I 
 don't care. I'm not going in just now." 
 
 Georgie's smile died away long before 
 she reached the top of the bluff, and she 
 was very glad to sink down under the 
 lee of the cottage walls, where Julia was
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 8l 
 
 watching the children at play. Mrs. 
 Kimball had thriftily tied the children's 
 hats over their little ears for safety from 
 the romping wind, but of what other mis- 
 chief that wind might be doing she was 
 happily ignorant. Happily too, as Julia's 
 own beach hat limited her field of vision 
 like a tunnel, Georgie could keep her 
 bare head and dripping dress out of focus 
 and recover breath unmolested. When 
 Julia remarked that she had not seen 
 either of their neighbors that morning, 
 Georgie refrained from answering that 
 she had, but then, womanlike, nearly 
 betrayed herself by breaking out, petu- 
 lantly, " I should think you'd be glad of 
 it. We see enough of them, I'm sure. 
 And Mr. Homer is a perfect bear." 
 
 ''Oh, if you compare him to Mr. Sid- 
 ney " said Julia, laughing at this un- 
 grateful burst. " What can you expect ? 
 But he is very polite. He has even 
 named his boat for you." *
 
 82 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " For me ? " retorted the girl, indig- 
 nantly. " You know better, Julia. At 
 least you know that my name is not 
 Georgiana." 
 
 III. 
 
 A SLEEPY sea with a few idle sails upon 
 it. Hazy distances melting into a sky 
 full of hot sunshine. Subdued murmurs 
 from the beach, where lazy waves lapped 
 gently in and went out again with a low 
 swish, like a sigh. 
 
 Such are the changes of the seaside. 
 
 Who would take that calm expanse for 
 the boisterous main ? Or that sedate and 
 white-robed maiden for the rash rower of 
 yesterday ? Aphrodite, born of spray 
 and landing from a sea-shell, is a conve- 
 nient metaphor, but Georgie had prob- 
 ably resembled her less when really com- 
 ing out of the raging deep, all wet flannel 
 and blowing locks, than she did now 
 when seated in a low wicker chair, safe
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 83 
 
 and dry on the shaded balcony, with her 
 soft, billowy draperies piled about her 
 like foam. 
 
 She was doing nothing that is, she 
 was gazing dreamily upon the dreamy 
 sea and sitting for her portrait, that Sid- 
 ney was industriously, and at the mo- 
 ment silently, painting. 
 
 Julia, who could seldom afford to do 
 nothing, had taken her work-basket to 
 the other end of the balcony, where she 
 said there was more breeze. As there 
 seemed to be none anywhere, it was 
 clever of her to find this out, but possibly 
 her cleverness had suggested other rea- 
 sons for going there. At all events she 
 fastened her attention upon her sewing, 
 until Homer's restlessness diverted it. 
 
 He had come up after Sidney's easel 
 had been placed, and for a little while 
 lounged about, making comments, as was 
 his wont. But he had soon grown ab- 
 stracted, then silent, until he suddenly
 
 84 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 went over and joined Julia. There he 
 sat upon the rail and swung his feet, look- 
 ing off to sea, making an aimless remark 
 or two, or letting Julia's lively talk ripple 
 over him unregarded, until she said he 
 made her nervous and asked him why he 
 did not read to her. The book they had 
 begun was on the library table ; would he 
 get it ? How nice ! He went obediently, 
 but he did not come back. 
 
 All over the house the windows were 
 open, the shutters bowed, and the rooms 
 in that cool twilight beloved of good 
 housekeepers if not artists in garish 
 summer. Coming from the outer glare, 
 Horner's eyes were dazzled and he saw 
 only what he brought with him the im- 
 age of a white dress projected upon a 
 square of blue. 
 
 He went mechanically to the table as 
 directed, and being there forgot book 
 Julia himself and all the world. He 
 stood between two windows ; near to one
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 85 
 
 was Sidney's easel, and through the half- 
 closed blinds the low talk drifted in. 
 
 "I have something to ask you," he 
 heard, in Sidney's quiet voice. " Do you 
 know I am sure you do not how much 
 you frightened a us all yesterday ? It 
 still seems a miracle that you are here 
 now. If you knew how cruel such rash- 
 ness can be " 
 
 "It was foolish," Georgie answered, 
 without a trace of resentment. "In fact, 
 it was very wrong. I know I owe you an 
 apology for the wetting I gave you." 
 
 " No," he said, " not for that." 
 
 "Well, for the fright too," she as- 
 sented, and Homer could tell that she 
 smiled. " To tell the truth, I was fright- 
 ened myself." 
 
 " Promise me never to do such a thing 
 again." 
 
 They were the same words that Horner 
 had used the day before, but with what a 
 difference ! He in his excitement had
 
 86 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 slapped them at her rudely. He could 
 see this himself now. Sidney's tone was 
 deferential, soothing it was more, it was 
 maddeningly caressing. Would she suf- 
 fer it? Would she not assert her inde- 
 pendence ? 
 
 No. She was answering with the ut- 
 most meekness and docility. 
 
 Horner felt the blood rush to his tem- 
 ples, then woke to the fact that he was 
 listening, eavesdropping, spying upon 
 with how sharp a stab the knowledge 
 came ! his rival's privacy. 
 
 He went blindly out. 
 
 He did not hear a chair pushed back, 
 nor know that Georgie had risen and was 
 coming into the house, so when he met 
 her in the hall the surprise overcame 
 him. 
 
 " Do you mean it ? " he said, savagely, 
 barring her way, "or are you only fool- 
 ing him, and me, and all of us ? " 
 
 "Do I mean what?" asked Georgie,
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 87 
 
 bewildered, then more indignantly, " I 
 don't understand you, Mr. Horner. " 
 
 " That is not true," he answered, 
 harshly. "A woman always under- 
 stands." 
 
 " I do not understand how you, or any- 
 one, can speak to me like this," she said, 
 coloring angrily. ' ' What do you mean ? " 
 
 Truly what did he mean ? To make a 
 fool of himself? He turned with a short 
 laugh of self-derision and strode out of 
 the opposite door. 
 
 The sun was hot upon the hills and 
 on the bare, unshaded rocks, as Horner 
 plunged down among them to the shore ; 
 so hot, indeed, that although he felt a 
 fierce desire for motion he sank down 
 presently in the stingy shadow of a cliff, 
 panting and oppressed. He tossed off 
 his hat and tore his collar open, and 
 longed for a storm, for a rushing, mighty 
 wind, for something to struggle with and 
 overcome. For this deadly calm seemed
 
 88 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 typical of Sidney's suavity and underly- 
 ing fervor. 
 
 " He seems soft enough, but I know 
 him," he said, with clinched hands. 
 " Nothing can move him when he is once 
 set." 
 
 And wave after wave of passion surged 
 through him as he gauged the depth of 
 meaning in Sidney's tone and manner. 
 
 Before him was the dazzling, glassy 
 water ; behind him sunny uplands slum- 
 bered ; far off drowsy earth and heaven 
 met Quiet ? Peace ? Why, in his 
 breast a scorching sirocco seemed to 
 blow, drying up the springs of life and 
 spreading ruin and desolation. 
 
 He took his head in his hands, digging 
 his nails into the scalp, and went back 
 over his life, thinking of what Sidney bad 
 been to him. When his mother died ; 
 when his father wished him to give up art 
 and go into business ; when he had won 
 his first prize ; when orders began to
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 89 
 
 come in for his illustrations at every 
 turn, in hours of trouble, in hours of re- 
 joicing, it was always Sidney Sidney. 
 It was Sidney whose generous admiration 
 he had so loftily received ; it was Sidney 
 whose help he had not scrupled to take ; 
 and it was Sidney could it be Sidney ? 
 who was to crush him at last. 
 
 " Curse him curse him! I owe him 
 everything I have," he groaned. " I 
 never can repay him. He has been 
 ahead of me all my life. Money, stand- 
 ing, talent no, I swear, I've more than 
 he. But he has success success in art, 
 in life, in " He could not bring him- 
 self to say "in love," but ground his 
 heel into the sand and set his teeth and 
 cried : 
 
 " He shall not have her. He shall not 
 have her. I'll kill him first." 
 
 The shadow of the rock shifted slowly 
 with the advancing day, and Horner 
 shifted his place mechanically to be out
 
 90 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 of the unbearable sun. The tide had 
 crept away, leaving a stretch of stones 
 and shells covered with languishing sea- 
 weed. Here and there a stranded crab, 
 or other water creature, crawled about 
 forlornly. Horner noted the analogy 
 with a dull rage. Had the vigor of his 
 life ebbed away from him ? What had 
 happened in these few hours to change 
 the world ? A girl had looked him in 
 the face. A girl! There were heca- 
 tombs of girls. But his heart answered 
 instantly, " One only one out of ten 
 hundred thousand only one for me. Not 
 for me. Never for me." 
 
 It seemed as if that blighting moment 
 of sudden knowledge had indeed changed 
 his whole nature. Where were his will, 
 his energy, his certainty of power ? Strip- 
 ped from him ! And he saw himself a 
 failure and a fool. 
 
 Out of the salt waste before him all 
 his past disappointments rose and con-
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA QI 
 
 fronted him. He had had many, as all 
 ardent, striving souls must have, but he 
 had said to himself that he accepted them, 
 overcame them, or went on in spite of 
 them, patiently pursuing his ideal and 
 letting that be in itself his success. 
 
 Now he saw that this had been only his 
 vanity. His ideal was worthless, or miles 
 out of reach, and he a futile idiot, posing 
 with fatuous conceit for Sidney's admira- 
 tion. 
 
 And Sidney, who beat him always, in 
 every way, could very well afford to be 
 condescending and helpful and mag- 
 nanimous. 
 
 " I will not have it so. It shall not be. 
 I'll beat him yet," he cried aloud, wrest- 
 ling with his anguish, and starting up to 
 go anywhere. 
 
 A breeze was ruffling the water and the 
 few sails were filling. Horner was too 
 far under the cliff to see that a black 
 cloud was rapidly rising in the west, but
 
 92 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 when he reached the cove and saw the 
 Georgiana gently swaying on her line, a 
 longing to escape took possession of him. 
 
 On the land was bondage, intolerable 
 humiliation and despair ; on the sea was 
 freedom, at least, and air. He broke 
 into a run and bounded down the floating 
 dock to the sloop. 
 
 "What are you up to?" called Sid- 
 ney's voice from the shore. " You're not 
 going out?" 
 
 Homer paid no attention, but hauled 
 at the sail. Sidney now appeared, hast- 
 ening along the dock. 
 
 "Can't you see the sky?" he cried. 
 " We're going to have the worst kind of 
 a storm in half an hour. " 
 
 Horner still took no notice, but pulled 
 the mainsail to position with a vicious 
 jerk and turned his attention to the jib. 
 Sidney came alongside, and laid his hand 
 on the mast. 
 
 "Horner," he said, seriously, " be ra-
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 93 
 
 tional. Look there, man. You can never 
 do it." 
 
 " Get out of my way," cried Homer, 
 furiously. " D'ye think there's nothing 
 I can do ? If I go to the devil, what's 
 that to you ? " 
 
 He seized the tiller and, obedient to 
 his will, the Georgiana, with a graceful 
 dip, began to glide from the dock. A 
 strange look of comprehension, half in- 
 credulous, half resentful, flashed over 
 Sidney's face ; the next instant he leaped 
 the widening streak of water and alighted 
 in the boat. Turning his back to Horner 
 he gazed seriously ahead, keeping his 
 thoughts, whatever they might be, to 
 himself. 
 
 The dense cloud that had piled itself 
 up in the west now rolled a long arm 
 across the sun. From under its curled 
 edges a sickly light fell, causing the caps 
 of the rising waves to show lurid against 
 the horizon. Each rock and headland,
 
 94 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 every house and tree, stood out in sharp 
 relief; the landscape looked ghastly and 
 unnatural. All the little craft had scur- 
 ried home in haste, but here and there a 
 schooner lay under bare poles, her men 
 working briskly to stow every rag of can- 
 vas. 
 
 As the Georgiana emerged from the 
 shelter of the cliff, the wind swooped 
 down Upon her, seizing and shaking her 
 violently, but after a moment's shivering 
 pause she tore on with her boom plough- 
 ing the water. A fisherman running 
 along the shore shouted to her. An- 
 other, high on the rocks, made a trumpet 
 of his hands, and when his words were 
 whisked away by the wind, pointed ve- 
 hemently to the sky. 
 
 Homer noticed with savage joy that 
 Sidney was quite pale and sat with eyes 
 intent and tight lips. He himself seemed 
 mad. The whistling wind, the dash 
 through the waves, the straining sail and
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 95 
 
 cordage, filled him with fierce delight. 
 But suddenly Sidney turned and looked 
 him in the face, a long, silent look of 
 questioning ; then sprang up, whipped 
 out his knife, and cut a rope. The main- 
 sail fell and Horner woke from his de- 
 lirium, too late. 
 
 The focus of the storm had reached 
 them. A shrieking gust tore off the jib 
 and whirling it away let them see it flut- 
 tering like a white bird far over the dark 
 bay. The wet sail hung low ; the trem- 
 bling Georgiana, careening, shipping sea 
 after sea, yielded to another blast and 
 went over. 
 
 Horner had barely time to kick off his 
 shoes when he flew out into space, and 
 his thought as he struck the churning 
 water was that Sidney could not swim. 
 
 What happened next he never dis- 
 tinctly remembered. He found himself, 
 panting and bruised, hanging to the 
 Georgiana with one hand and desper-
 
 96 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ately clutching Sidney's coat with the 
 other. 
 
 They scrambled up and laid hold of the 
 centre-board. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE bottom of a capsized boat, rolling 
 and tossing on a stormy sea, is at best a 
 slippery perch. As the two men clung to 
 it, Homer felt instinctively for neither 
 could speak that Sidney's strength could 
 not keep him there unaided, and he threw 
 his body forward as well as he could to 
 support part of Sidney's weight and serve 
 him as a bulwark. This greatly increased 
 the strain on his own arms, but he was 
 strong. He had need to be. 
 
 The rain fell in heavy sheets, beating 
 them down and nearly drowning them. 
 It beat down the waves too, somewhat, 
 until at last, when almost exhausted be- 
 tween the tumultuous floods below and 
 the pouring floods above, they felt them-
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 97 
 
 selves drifting into calmer water. They 
 were under the lee of a sea-girt Dump- 
 ling, whose sombre bulk, indistinctly seen 
 above them, broke the force of the storm. 
 Some portion of the Georgiana's sub- 
 merged rigging caught upon the rocks 
 below the surface, and here she stayed, 
 rocking back and forth, perilously near 
 the island cliff where she would dash her 
 slight frame to pieces, but never quite 
 reaching it, held by her chance moorings, 
 whose strength none could gauge. 
 
 As night came on, the rain ceased and 
 the wind with it, but land, sea, and sky, 
 were all alike of ink. Even the Dump- 
 ling, at once their protector and their 
 most dreaded enemy, was but a deeper 
 black upon the blackness that surrounded 
 them. The men breathed more easily, 
 but dared not relax their hold, for with- 
 out warning, out of the darkness, some 
 huge breaker would every now and then 
 roll over them. Homer had managed to
 
 98 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 get his companion's head upon his breast, 
 and as Sidney rested so, Homer felt sure 
 that it was because of inability to move. 
 Probably the mast, or other part of the 
 boat had dealt him a disabling blo\v as 
 they upset. 
 
 Lying thus, through painful, speech- 
 less hours, did Horner feel that he held 
 his fate in his arms, and ask himself why 
 he spent his strength and lessened his 
 chances of life for this man, the thought of 
 whom, so short a time ago, had filled him 
 with frenzy ? Who shall say ? Men are 
 both worse and better than they know. 
 
 If he had acted with blind impulse 
 when they were struggling in the water, 
 he had ample time to think now. If he 
 should let the next wave sweep them 
 from the boat he could swim. Or, if 
 he simply opened his arms - they were 
 cramped and stiff what would happen ? 
 Who could blame him ? W r ho would 
 know ?
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 99 
 
 Once safe on land with Georgie, and 
 Sidney and all his intolerable benefac- 
 tions at the bottom of the sea where is 
 the man who is not sure a girl could 
 readily be made to love him if only that 
 other man were out of the way ? 
 
 The surging of the waves about them 
 and the echo from the rocks ; the sound 
 of the storm-bell's faint and monotonous 
 clang ; the groaning of the tortured Geor- 
 giana as she seemed to swing through a 
 fathomless abyss of night and darkness ; 
 and all the hundred indefinite, dismal 
 noises of the deep it needs something 
 more than these to drown the voice of the 
 tempter in a man's ear. 
 
 Horner's grasp had not loosened, but 
 it tightened quickly as Sidney's voice 
 broke weakly through these dreary ca- 
 dences. 
 
 "I don't know what keeps us here. If 
 it is a rope, it will 'soon fray and then 
 nothing can save us. Homer you can
 
 100 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 swim make your way to the rock while 
 you can. Why should both die ? " 
 
 It seemed a long time to Horner be- 
 fore he managed to answer : 
 
 " You can't swim." 
 
 " I might make shift," Sidney an- 
 swered ; " I do swim a little. But I think 
 this arm is broken, I cannot move it" 
 
 Horner heard himself reply : 
 
 " While the rope holds, we'll stay." 
 
 By and by the night grew lighter. But 
 as the sullen clouds parted and through 
 v narrow rifts a few stars threw long, 
 broken reflections upon the heaving 
 waves, they brought no cheer with them. 
 They rather served to emphasize the 
 gloomy gulfs, the drear immensities of 
 space, among which two men and a little 
 boat were so incalculably insignificant. 
 Horner was the first to speak again. 
 
 "Sidney, we have been friends a long 
 time." 
 
 "Yes."
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA IOI 
 
 Sidney was in pain and very tired. 
 
 " You have laid me under many obliga- 
 tions," Horner went on, with growing 
 steadiness. " I had no right to take 
 them. I've been a fool. This upset is 
 my fault, but you had no business to 
 come. Now answer me one question. 
 Do you love her or not ? " Sidney tried 
 to lift his head from Horner's shoulder 
 and sit up ; he tried to free himself from 
 Horner's supporting arm. Failing, he 
 turned his widely opened eyes up to the 
 haggard face close above him, and said, 
 simply : 
 
 " If you let go of me, Horner, I shall 
 drown." 
 
 " I did not ask you that," said Horner, 
 sharply ; " I know it. And if that rope 
 breaks we may both be dead in half an 
 houi\ Now answer me. Do you love 
 her or not? " 
 
 " You know that too," said Sidney. 
 
 " Does she love you ? "
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Tell me the truth in the face of 
 death." 
 
 " It is the truth. I do not know. " 
 
 He stopped, then said quite steadily : 
 
 " I have thought at times she cared 
 for you." 
 
 " Oh, no." Horner's answer was a 
 bitter laugh. He had forgotten for the 
 moment where he was, and saw only 
 Georgie's indignant face when he left her 
 that afternoon. A rolling swell recalled 
 him, and when it had passed Sidney 
 spoke. 
 
 " I did not know until I saw you in the 
 boat that you cared. I suppose the 
 thought had come to me, but I turned 
 from it. Then I knew. For a moment 
 I hoped you would go out. That is why 
 I came. I've done no good, but I 
 couldn't stop you and I dared not let 
 you go alone. I want you to know that if 
 I get back I mean to ask her to marry me."
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 103 
 
 " If I thought you wouldn't," Homer 
 cried, " I'd drown you now. Man she 
 loves you." 
 
 It was evidently very hard for Sidney 
 to speak at all. His voice grew feebler, 
 but he went on with resolution : 
 
 " I want you to know this, and I want 
 you to know that if I won't take any de- 
 cision but hers, I'll abide by that. If if 
 she doesn't care for me, I'll go away and 
 give you a chance. " 
 
 " I've got no chance," said Homer. 
 " You can't give it to me. I tell you she 
 loves you" how he turned the knife in 
 his own wound ! " If I distrusted you 
 but I don't. I know you are true. And 
 if I get to land, so help me God, you 
 shall for her. But if ever you change, if 
 you're not good to her, I'll come back, I'll 
 come back, if it's from the ends of the 
 earth, and I'll kill you." 
 
 Sidney made no reply. Homer could 
 not tell if he had heard.
 
 104 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 The clouds had broken, drawing off in 
 shadowy masses as a pale yellow light 
 stole upward in the east Against its 
 growing flush the cold waves rose and 
 fell, and with them the boat and the two 
 benumbed men. Gradually the grim 
 face of the cliff softened until it shone 
 with reflected glows of morning. 
 
 Out of the darkest hour of his life calm 
 had come to Horner's breast. As Sid- 
 ney's helpless head lay pillowed there, a 
 something he could not name, nor fully 
 understand, filled his struggling, torn, ex- 
 hausted soul with peace. 
 
 He had seen the vision of a fair garden 
 that he was not to enter : he had helped 
 to push another in and to shut the gates 
 upon himself. Yet the strife and turmoil ' 
 of the night had dropped away. A dawn 
 was breaking whose radiance he had 
 never known before.
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 V. 
 
 " I NEVER would ha* believed it if I 
 hadn't seen it. The cloud then was 
 a-comin' up like a racer. I run along 
 the rocks an' yelled, but I knowed they 
 couldn' hear me." 
 
 Two cowering women listened to the 
 oracle and started, shivering, as each 
 whip-lash of lightning, sharper than the 
 last, cracked across the sky. 
 
 They were in the cottage dining-room, 
 where, through the immense window that 
 filled its whole seaward wall, they saw 
 much more than they liked of the tem- 
 pest's fury. 
 
 Dick was looked for that evening, and 
 Julia had sent in much anxiety for Bates, 
 to confer upon the best means of getting 
 him up from the Landing. The usual 
 way, by boat, was quite impracticable, 
 for even should the storm cease, the
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 107 
 
 waves would run high until morning. 
 Bates came, in evident excitement. 
 
 His emotions were all so deeply subter- 
 ranean, and any hint of them upon the 
 surface was so unusual, that Julia vaguely 
 took the alarm, thinking only of her hus- 
 band. But Georgie looked into the boat- 
 man's rugged face and cried, " What is 
 it, Bates ? What has happened ? " 
 
 Then they heard it in a burst of feeling. 
 The Georgiana was out, the two men in 
 her. The Lord only knew what would 
 come of it. 
 
 Georgie's face grew suddenly as gray 
 as the solid wall of rain that now shut 
 out all the world save one rocky Dump- 
 ling, where foam and spray were leap- 
 ing. It was Julia who exclaimed : 
 
 " But what will they do ? How dread- 
 ful ! " 
 
 ' ' I dunno what they will do. They 
 ain't had time to make the breakwater. 
 I've been a-sailin' Mr. Sidney for five
 
 THE FATB OF THE GBORGIANA 109 
 
 years and more, an' I ain't never knowed 
 him do no sech fool trick before. An' 
 that there Mr. Horner, he 'peared useter 
 the water. I give him credit for more 
 sense. He kin sail a boat tolerbul, for a 
 amatoor. But they can't ne'er a one of 
 'em run the Georgiana an old patched- 
 up thing like she be in this blow. She'll 
 sink, sure's I say it." 
 
 A clap of thunder covered the cry that 
 Georgie uttered, but she started to the 
 door with such unmistakable intention 
 that Julia caught her arm. "You can't 
 do anything, Georgie," she cried, aghast 
 at the girl's face. " Don't be crazy." 
 
 "Oh, Julia, how can you hold me? 
 Let me go. I will go, I tell you ! They 
 will drown. I can save him. I can row." 
 
 She pulled open the door, and the en- 
 tering blast took away her breath. She 
 struggled with it vainly a moment, then 
 dropped upon a chair. Bates shut the 
 door and turned to Julia.
 
 110 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 " I kin take a boat an' go out an' row 
 round. But it won't help them none for 
 me to git spilt, an' there ain't no boat 
 built could live while this racket lasts. 
 No. They're either run in behind the fort, 
 
 or gone up the bay, or " He left the 
 
 sentence unfinished for a suggestive mo- 
 ment, then added, " I'll see to gittin 1 Mr. 
 Kimball with the wagon all right An' 
 I'll ask roun' at the Landin' maybe they 
 put in there. Don't you fret, Mis' Kim- 
 ball." 
 
 " There, Georgie," cried Julia, catch- 
 ing at straws, "it's all right. They are 
 at the Landing. We are worrying for 
 nothing." 
 
 "Anyway we can't help 'em now," 
 muttered Bates, as he walked away. 
 " But they wasn't aheadin' that way when 
 I see "em." 
 
 Georgie said nothing. She sank slowly 
 upon her knees in the wide window and 
 watched the sweeping gale. Julia left
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA III 
 
 herself growing hysterical. Why was the 
 girl so moved ? 
 
 The children and their early tea and 
 bedtime created a diversion. Julia was 
 glad to busy herself with them, and as the 
 storm frightened them she sat upstairs a 
 long time, until they fell asleep. 
 
 But when she went down Georgie still 
 knelt where she had left her, her white 
 dress gleaming in the darkness, her face 
 framed in her hands against the pane, 
 and her eyes straining into the black 
 night, over the waste of tumbling waters 
 dimly discerned below. 
 
 It was an unspeakable relief to hear the 
 sounds of Dick's arrival, but when she 
 ran to let him in, the boom of surf upon 
 the shore entered with him, so loud and 
 angry that, although the wind had ceased, 
 she trembled and was silent. Dick came 
 in as if nothing had happened, but he 
 looked amazed when he saw Georgie. 
 She had risen and turned to him in mute
 
 112 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 appeal He watched her furtively, but 
 spoke with resolute cheerfulness. Yes, 
 Bates had told him. High old storm, 
 wasn't it? Poor little woman, scared 
 almost to death ? No, they were not at 
 the Landing ; why should they be ? They 
 would go to Newport, of course, and get 
 a good supper and be vastly amused 
 to-morrow when they heard how fright- 
 ened But Dick stopped there. The 
 
 good fellow could not keep it up. Bates 
 had told him too much. He went up to 
 Georgie and took her cold hands. 
 
 " My dear little girl," he said, affec- 
 tionately, " you are very much over- 
 wrought. The storm has upset you " 
 
 But she shook her head. 
 
 "No no," she whispered. "You 
 don't know " 
 
 " What? " he said, gravely. " Do you 
 care so much ? " 
 
 " I love him, Dick, "her white lips framed 
 noiselessly ; " I love him and he "
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 113 
 
 She hid her face, and Dick, drawing 
 her to his shoulder, had no heart to ask 
 more. He soothed her gently, though 
 perplexed enough. By and by he found 
 a chance to murmur aside to Julia, 
 "Which?" But Julia only looked at 
 him reproachfully, and he was none the 
 wiser. 
 
 It was curious how, although they said 
 over and over that the men were safe in 
 Newport, at Fort Adams, up the bay ; 
 that there was no reason to be alarmed ; 
 yet at the first hint of light they were 
 down upon the beach with a dozen 
 others, boatmen and fishermen, all anx- 
 ious to give advice and have someone 
 else act on it. To take boats and go out 
 and row up and down what was the 
 good? Yet it seemed better to do that 
 than to do nothing, and they waited only 
 for more daylight before starting. Bates's 
 years of service had made him really fond 
 of Sidney, and he wandered anxiously
 
 114 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 along the shore, scanning the water with 
 practised eyes. Suddenly he turned and 
 came tearing back. Dick ran to meet 
 him. 
 
 "What? Where?" he cried. But 
 Bates would not stop to answer. 
 
 " I dunno. I dunno. I'm goin* out. 
 I want two strong fellers with me." 
 
 Two were promptly ready, and Dick 
 jumped in too, as the boat pushed off. 
 
 What Bates had seen was the hull of 
 the Georgiana pounding about behind a 
 corner of the Dumpling, but he was not 
 sure if there was anything on it, or not. 
 
 The men had to skirt all around the 
 jagged islet to avoid its fringe of rocks 
 and breakers. It seemed a long pull to 
 them with its uncertainty, but longer to 
 the two women who stood on shore and 
 watched them slowly disappear. Long- 
 est of all was the time before the boat 
 came back, creeping from behind the 
 rocks, turning landward, now seen, now
 
 Il6 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 hidden by some combing wave. The 
 men were bending to their oars with a 
 will, and Dick and Bates were bending 
 too, over something heavy, dark and mo- 
 tionless, in the stern. 
 
 " Are they alive ? Is it one, or two? " 
 were the questions Julia dared not utter, 
 as she felt Georgie's hands clinch con- 
 vulsively upon her arm. 
 
 The boat came in, and the waiting 
 group of men ran out through the waves 
 to meet it, 
 
 Sidney was lifted out unconscious. 
 Horner's eyes were closed, but as he was 
 borne ashore they opened and roved 
 eagerly from face to face. Finally, as he 
 was laid upon the sand, they rested upon 
 Georgie and filled with sudden light. He 
 struggled to raise himself upon his elbow. 
 
 " Don't fear," he gasped, " I have 
 saved him for you." The exertion was 
 too much, and he sank again. Georgie 
 stretched out her arms. She uttered a
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 117 
 
 sound between a laugh and a sob. Then 
 she dropped upon her knees and hid her 
 face. 
 
 VI. 
 
 SIDNEY'S condition was thought criti- 
 cal for a day or two, and Horner would 
 not leave him. Besides, Horner needed 
 some little time to recover his own tone 
 after such a strain. But at last, one 
 morning when the early air was fresh and 
 sweet, he stepped out upon the breezy 
 hillside. 
 
 He wore what he was accustomed to 
 call his town clothes, and he carried a 
 bag in his hand. He walked across the 
 grass to the Kimballs* cottage, but he did 
 not go in. He did not even step upon 
 the familiar balcony. He stood looking 
 at it a moment, then turned and faced the 
 sea. 
 
 Again that blue plain lay before him, 
 dimpling as innocently as a smiling child.
 
 Il8 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 Doubt, storms, despair none of these 
 could exist in such a shining world. 
 
 Happiness was there, and peace yes, 
 and love. 
 
 His breast heaved. Something low 
 and inarticulate escaped him. Then he 
 caught up his bag, lifted his face once to 
 the cottage windows, and strode heavily 
 down the hill 
 
 One of the window - blinds shook ; it 
 opened a little and a girl's face, wonder- 
 ing, pale, peeped out. Homer did not 
 see it. He walked fast, then faster ; by 
 and by he began to run. 
 
 A whistle sounded from the wharf, still 
 distant. It was the early boat, warning 
 her passengers that she was about to 
 start Horner could easily have let it go 
 without him, but just as the plank was 
 drawn in, he came down the bank full 
 speed and leaped aboard. 
 
 He stood outside as the puffing little 
 ferryboat rounded the tall, white light-
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA lip 
 
 house on the breakwater. The sun shone 
 brightly on Conanicut, on the steep 
 Dumplings, and the red roofs of the cot- 
 tages, half hidden behind the grassy 
 slopes. Then the boat swung round, 
 and Homer saw nothing but the dancing 
 sea. 
 
 A few hours later he was in his rooms 
 in town. 
 
 Sidney found a note upon the hall table 
 and read it when he came to breakfast. 
 It was short, not more than a line, but he 
 thought it over all the morning. 
 
 Late in the afternoon he managed, 
 with some assistance, to dress himself in 
 his usual clothes and went across to the 
 other cottage. Entering unannounced, 
 he came upon Georgie sitting idly in a 
 window. She sprang up as he entered, 
 and he suddenly found that he could not 
 trust himself to speak. He had not re- 
 gained his strength, and the walk had 
 been more of an exertion than he knew,
 
 120 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 but what stirred him most was the change 
 in Georgie. 
 
 The girl was very pale, and her eyes 
 looked dark and sunken ; her lips, too, 
 were working nervously, as if she wished 
 to speak, but could not. 
 
 It was evident that she had suffered, 
 and Sidney felt that he had come ex- 
 pressly to ask her why ; but the answer 
 to this question meant so much to him 
 that he could not put it. Thus two agi- 
 tated people faced each other for a brief 
 moment, each striving for composure. 
 Its outward semblance came first to Geor- 
 gie, and she said, bravely : 
 
 " I am glad to see you so much better, 
 Mr. Sidney." 
 
 For an instant Sidney felt as if he had 
 received another blow. Then he braced 
 himself, looked straight at her, and said, 
 directly : 
 
 " I came to ask you something. I hope 
 you know what it is. But first, I must say
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 121 
 
 this : Homer saved my life. But for him 
 I should have been drowned." 
 
 " Oh, what possessed you ? " cried the 
 girl, her composure vanishing; "what 
 made you go out in such a storm ? " 
 
 Sidney looked down. 
 
 " I thought I could help him, but I did 
 not. I was made helpless myself. He 
 held me on the boat. I told him if I came 
 to land I should tell you." 
 
 She did not ask him why, and when he 
 noticed this he stopped. He felt that she 
 was not thinking of him at all. And he 
 was right. Horner's panting words upon 
 the beach ; Horner's face raised mutely 
 to her window ; these, and that rough 
 question, "Are you fooling him and 
 me ? " had haunted Georgie's thoughts 
 all day, and now a feeling of being forced 
 to the wall and turning at bay swept over 
 her. 
 
 " I am to blame," she cried, abruptly. 
 "It is my fault. If it had not been for
 
 122 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 me, he would not have gone out. But 
 the time has come to speak the truth. 
 He went away this morning. Why? " 
 
 Sidney looked at her without speak- 
 ing. 
 
 "Was it sudden business?" she per- 
 severed. 
 
 Still looking at her, Sidney answered, 
 "No." 
 
 "Then why why," she exclaimed, 
 
 " why did he go when he knew " Her 
 
 resolution failed her, and with a scarlet 
 blush she turned quickly oft 
 
 At least Sidney knew. 
 
 The light from the window touched her 
 hair and all the soft curves and outlines 
 of her pretty figure. He could see her 
 hands clasped tight against her breast, 
 and without seeing could feel the tears 
 that only her strong effort held from fall- 
 ing. Yet what he said was : 
 
 " He did not know. He went because 
 he did not know."
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 123 
 
 His voice sounded low and even. It 
 gave no hint of pain or passion. But 
 suddenly, as if they had just leaped into 
 sight, he saw every article in the room : 
 each rug upon the floor, each picture on 
 the walls, every commonplace chair and 
 table, every defect, scratch, or disarrange- 
 ment. As long as he lived he could recall 
 every trivial detail. Then over all fell a 
 mist in which Georgie's figure seemed to 
 float away from him, and in a voice that 
 seemed to himself strange and remote, he 
 asked : 
 
 " Shall I write to him to come back ? " 
 and when she did not answer, he added, 
 " to you ? " 
 
 Then Georgie said, very low, but ah, 
 how distinctly : 
 
 " Yes," and he did not need to look at 
 her to know that she was happy. 
 
 This knowledge, that might have mad- 
 dened some men, softened him. He 
 went up to her and held out his hand,
 
 124 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and though he was pale, he spoke stead- 
 ily, like a man. 
 
 " Will you say good-by ? I may not 
 see you again." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried the girl, turning quickly 
 to remonstrate ; but when she saw him, 
 she stopped and hung her head. She 
 seemed about to speak, but finally gave 
 him her hand in silence. 
 
 " I will write to him at once," he prom- 
 ised her. " Good-by." 
 
 He held her hand a moment, said 
 again, " Good-by, " and when she could 
 see, he was gone. 
 
 Horner had made up his mind that the 
 city was unendurable, and that if he spent 
 another night in his hot and stifling rooms 
 he should shoot himself. He resolved on 
 a run into the country somewhere, and 
 smarted for any train he could catch. 
 
 At the street corner he met his postman 
 and took from him this note :
 
 THE FATE OF THE GEORGIANA 125 
 
 " DEAR H , I sail at noon on the 
 
 Umbria. Let to-morrow find you in 
 Conanicut. Bates has all necessary or- 
 ders. 
 
 "Yours, H. S. 
 
 " P. S. I go to study for a year or two 
 in Rome."
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 
 
 BY CHARLES E. CARRYU
 
 MR. GEORGE FARNHAM, counsellor-at- 
 law, having devoted ten years of his life 
 to the remunerative toil of entangling cer- 
 tain persons in, and extricating certain 
 others from, the meshes of the law, found 
 himself, at the age of thirty-five, with a 
 respectable balance in bank and a pro- 
 nounced craving for rest and recreation. 
 Summer was coming on, the courts would 
 soon be closed, and a torpor was settling 
 down upon the field of litigation, and the 
 idea of a vacation abroad presented itself 
 to his mind with alluring force. He was 
 weary of briefs and bills of exceptions ; 
 his office was taking on, to his jaded 
 eyes, an aspect of dreary dinginess that 
 promised to become unendurable in the 
 near future, and the long rows of buff- 
 clad digests and revised statutes seemed
 
 I 3 
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 to glare down upon him from their 
 shelves, like wolves in sheep's clothing, 
 with grim suggestions of long nights of 
 toil. Under these impelling influences 
 he turned his 
 back upon the 
 law, packed a 
 portmanteau, 
 and found 
 himself upon 
 a bright morn- 
 ne on the steam- 
 L, fairly commit- 
 hree months' so- 
 breign parts. 
 As the hour of sailing 
 drew near he stood on 
 the hurricane deck, leaning against the 
 rail and watching with lively inter- 
 est the animated scene on the pier be- 
 low. A double line of passengers and 
 their friends was thronging up and down 
 the gangway giving access to the lower
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 131 
 
 deck, a crowd of spectators, idlers, and 
 itinerant vendors of steamer-chairs and 
 other comforts of the sea was swarming 
 below him on the pier, and a number of 
 agile cabin-stewards in blue jackets were 
 rushing up and down a supplemental gang- 
 way, bringing aboard an endless variety 
 of steamer-trunks, hand-bags, and bun- 
 dled rugs. Carriages drove up, dis- 
 charged their living freight and made 
 their way back through the surging crowd 
 amid volleys of imprecations ; while the 
 decks of the steamer swarmed with peo- 
 ple chattering, scolding, and weeping 
 farewells with the feverish vehemence 
 peculiar to such occasions. Farnham, 
 enjoying the spectacle with all the relish 
 of a school-boy abandoning his books for 
 a time, turned to a fellow-passenger who 
 stood beside him at the rail, and re- 
 marked, " A busy scene, sir." 
 
 "I should call it a bedlam," said the 
 other, without looking up. ' ' I never
 
 132 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 could understand the insane curiosity that 
 impels people remaining at home to sub- 
 ject themselves to the most unpleasant 
 feature of going abroad." 
 
 " Meaning the crowd?" inquired Farn- 
 ham. 
 
 " Yes," replied the other, shortly, " the 
 rabble, the deafening racket, the infernal 
 discomfort of the whole business ; " with 
 which he turned abruptly and walked 
 away as if not in the mood for further 
 conversation. 
 
 Farnham, at complacent peace with 
 himself and with the world, looked after 
 him with good-humored surprise. He 
 was a tallish man of powerful build, 
 with a full brown beard and hair slight- 
 ly marked with gray, exceedingly well 
 dressed, and having the unmistakable 
 bearing of a man of the world. By a 
 momentary glimpse of his face as he 
 turned away, Farnham saw that he had 
 regular features, a dark complexion, and
 
 134 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 a certain self-contained expression that 
 was not altogether prepossessing. As he 
 disappeared in the crowd Farnham turned 
 again and resumed his watch of the scene 
 below. 
 
 At this moment the bell for "all 
 ashore " was rung, and the crowd on the 
 gangway began to resolve itself into a 
 stream bound shoreward, occasionally 
 broken by a belated passenger hurriedly 
 making his way upward through the liv- 
 ing tide. Then the stream dwindled to a 
 few stragglers, and finally to the in- 
 evitable last man, scrambling downward 
 while the gangway was swinging in the 
 slings ; the long plank was lowered and 
 cast off, a mighty pulse began to throb 
 beneath Farnham's feet, and the great 
 ship backed majestically out of the slip 
 amid a tempest of shouts of farewell. 
 
 It was at this instant that Farnham's 
 attention was attracted to a cab that came 
 rattling along the pier, scattering the
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 
 
 135 
 
 crowd in every direction. As it drew up 
 at the gangway opening, a man sprang 
 out and crying frantically, " Stop ! stop ! " 
 rushed to the edge of the pier and began 
 running back and forth upon the string- 
 piece as if meditating a desperate attempt 
 to leap out and clutch at the side of the 
 receding ship. A roar of derisive laughter 
 burst from the bystanders as this prepos- 
 terous intention became evident, and two 
 of the wharf hands seized the distracted 
 man and roughly dragged him back, 
 struggling and 
 protesting, until 
 he was lost to view 
 in the crowd that 
 surged about him. 
 Farnham fancied, 
 from a sudden ex- 
 pression on his 
 fac e as he was 
 dragged away, 
 that he had recog-
 
 136 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 nized some one on the upper deck, and 
 glancing around involuntarily, discovered 
 the bearded passenger standing beside 
 him at the rail, gazing down upon the scene 
 with an angry scowL At this moment 
 they came abreast of the end of the pier, 
 where a scene of waving handkerchiefs 
 and tossing sun-umbrellas of every hue 
 and shade burst upon them like a mighty 
 kaleidoscope, and at the same instant the 
 belated traveller appeared in the surging 
 mass of people, hatless and dishevelled 
 and clutching wildly at the air, as if he 
 would stay the departing ship. " Intoler- 
 able ass ! " muttered the bearded man in 
 a savage whisper, and striking the rail 
 furiously with his clenched fist, he strode 
 angrily away. 
 
 The sail through the river and down 
 the bay was enough of a novelty to keep 
 Farnham busily observant, and it was not 
 until the Hook had been passed and the 
 pilot taken off that he bethought himself
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 137 
 
 of going below to don his steamer-cap 
 and shoes, and otherwise prepare himself 
 for a week of seafaring leisure. He had 
 secured a berth in an outside room in the 
 double row just aft the saloon companion- 
 way, and as he entered the passage lead- 
 ' ing to it he met his bearded acquaintance 
 just coining out of the room. " Mr. Farn- 
 ham ? " said the dark man, interrogatively. 
 "That is my name," replied Farnham. 
 "I am Captain Black," said the other, 
 bowing stiffly ; " I believe we are booked 
 as room-mates," and, pushing by him, 
 walked away without pausing for a reply. 
 
 " I hope you'll pan out better than you 
 promise, my good fellow," said Farnham 
 to himself, philosophically ; and entering 
 his room, he was soon busily occupied in 
 making a convenient disposal of his mod- 
 est belongings. 
 
 The door stood open, and Farnham 
 presently became aware of the presence, 
 in the room directly opposite, of a fel-
 
 138 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 low-passenger similarly occupied. He 
 seemed to be of about the height and 
 build of Farnham's room-mate, but his 
 face, of which Farnham caught an occa- 
 sional glimpse as he moved about, was as 
 unlike that gentleman's as could well be 
 imagined. He was clean shaven, of a 
 pallor that was almost unearthly, and had 
 a hideous scar extending from one corner 
 of his mouth down across his chin. To 
 all this was added a certain wildness of 
 eye that was so distinctly repellent that 
 Farnham inwardly congratulated himself 
 that Captain Black had fallen to his lot 
 instead of this unprepossessing stranger ; 
 and completing his arrangements, loaded 
 himself with cigars and went on deck. 
 
 Events proved that if Captain Black 
 was not companionable, he was at least 
 unobtrusive. Except for the mere knowl- 
 edge to the contrary, Farnham had the 
 room virtually to himself. His companion 
 rose, had his tub, dressed, and went on
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 139 
 
 deck long before the overworked coun- 
 sellor-at-law had finished his supplement- 
 al morning doze, and retired at night so 
 late and so quietly that Farnham never so 
 much as knew when he came into the 
 room. As for the rest, the man was 
 singularly preoccupied in manner, ac- 
 knowledging with the merest nod and 
 with an absent air Farnham's salutation 
 when they chanced to meet, and keeping 
 aloof from him and, with one exception, 
 from the other passengers as well, with a 
 persistence that was too marked to per- 
 mit any attempt at a closer acquaintance. 
 The exception, to Farnham's surprise, 
 was the uninviting-looking occupant of 
 the opposite room. What made this re- 
 markable selection still more surprising 
 was the fact that the acquaintance 
 between the two had evidently been 
 made aboard ship, as Farnham had seen 
 them passing and repassing each other 
 without the slightest sign of recognition
 
 during the afternoon of the day of sail- 
 ing ; yet before twenty-four hours had 
 elapsed an intimacy had been formed 
 and matured between these strangely 
 contrasted men, so close that they 
 seemed to be inseparable. Morning,
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 141 
 
 noon, and far into the night they sat 
 and smoked together in secluded corners, 
 the man with the scar constantly talking 
 in a smothered undertone, with a certain 
 fierce vehemence and violence of gesture, 
 and the captain listening with a brooding 
 look upon his dark features and an observ- 
 ant eye upon the other's face. Farnham 
 was puzzled, and, for a while, found a sin- 
 gular fascination in furtively watching the 
 two men and mentally speculating as to 
 what strange community of interest had 
 brought them together. The few pas- 
 sengers with whom he chanced to fall in- 
 to conversation knew as little about the 
 scar-faced man as he himself knew about 
 Captain Black, and beyond the fact that 
 his name was Leath, learned incidentally 
 from the cabin-steward, no information of 
 any kind was obtainable. Farnham 's in- 
 terest in the matter, being rather antipa- 
 thetic than otherwise, was short-lived, 
 and in the course of a day or two sub-
 
 142 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 sided into a mere glance at the two men 
 when he chanced to come upon them. 
 
 The weather was fair and promised to 
 hold ; but shortly after passing the Banks 
 the ship ran into a rough sea rolling 
 heavily from the southward, evidently 
 the tail of a storm that had passed up 
 from the tropics. As the day wore on 
 the sea continued rising, and by nightfall 
 the ship was rolling heavily, and Farn- 
 ham, who had thus far fared well, began 
 to experience certain premonitions that 
 impelled him, after a proud struggle 
 against fate, to forego his after-dinner 
 cigar and turn in at an unseemly hour, in 
 the hope that a night's rest would set him 
 right He lay in his berth, occasionally 
 falling into a doze and then being roused 
 by an unusually violent plunge as the 
 ship labored in the heavy sea, getting 
 up from time to time to secure and make 
 fast the various toilet articles that had 
 drifted from their moorings, and then
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 143 
 
 tumbling into his berth again with a 
 qualmish apprehension that the supreme 
 moment he was fighting against was upon 
 him. 
 
 It was just after one of these excursions 
 that the door opened and Captain Black 
 came into the room. The curtain of the 
 berth was drawn so that he was concealed 
 from view, but Farnham, half dozing, was 
 vaguely aware, above the creaking of 
 the ship, of his movements about the 
 room ; and an occasional rattle of keys 
 and the snapping of a lock indicated the 
 opening of some article of luggage. These 
 trifling noises not being disturbing in them- 
 selves, Farnham finally dropped asleep 
 and was presently involved in a contested 
 will case of extraordinary magnitude, with 
 his most important witness a fugitive in 
 the wilds of Madagascar. The details 
 progressed with astonishing velocity, ac- 
 companied by distracting complications 
 heretofore unheard of in law practice,
 
 144 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and matters were assuming a portentous 
 aspect with tremendous pecuniary penal- 
 ties impending, when he awoke and start- 
 ed up with a sudden consciousness that 
 the curtain had been drawn aside and that 
 he had been looked upon as he lay sleep- 
 ing in his berth. He pushed it back and 
 looked out, and as he did so the door of 
 the room was softly closed and he heard 
 the heavy footsteps of Captain Black go- 
 ing out through the passageway. The in- 
 cident was sufficiently annoying in itself, 
 but Farnham found it doubly so from the 
 manifest impossibility of resenting it at 
 the moment, and after fuming over it to 
 no purpose he lay down again, resolving 
 to give his room-mate a bit of his mind in 
 the morning ; and bracing himself with 
 his knees against the rolling of the ship, 
 tried to compose himself to sleep. But 
 sleep would not come. The sudden 
 awakening and the resulting irritation 
 had excited him, and he rolled and
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 145 
 
 tossed about, dropping off into fitful 
 naps and waking with every violent 
 plunge of the ship, and occasionally 
 muttering unseemly imprecations against 
 the evil chance that had broken in upon 
 his night's rest. 
 
 It was just after one of these wakings 
 that he heard the sound of a hurried step 
 descending the companionway, and some 
 one came aft through the open cabin and 
 turned into the passageway almost on a 
 run ; the door of the opposite room was 
 opened, closed again and locked, appar- 
 ently with feverish haste, and all was still 
 again. Farnham, listening with alert at- 
 tention, heard six bells strike a moment 
 after, and concluding from the hour that 
 Captain Black would soon follow his 
 friend, prepared to speak his mind then 
 and there ; nursing which amiable inten- 
 tion he presently fell sound asleep. 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir," said a voice, and
 
 146 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 Farnham started up. It was morning, 
 and the bath-steward was standing in 
 the doorway. " Beg pardon, sir," said 
 the man again, with a startled look upon 
 his face; "but Captain Black isn't here, 
 sir, and his berth hasn't been used." 
 
 " Well, I'm not responsible for his not 
 coming to bed," said Farnham, testily. 
 "What time is it ? " 
 
 "Just gone seven bells, sir," said the 
 steward. 
 
 "Very good, I'll get up," said Farn- 
 ham, after a moment's deliberation. 
 "See if you can get me a bath," and 
 the man withdrew. 
 
 Farnham, reflecting upon the steward's 
 rather startling announcement, found his 
 irritation giving way to a vague forebod- 
 ing of evil, with which came a disturbing 
 recollection of Leath's hurried return to 
 his room the night before. Could the 
 man tell anything? He looked out into 
 the passageway, but the door of the oppo-
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 
 
 147 
 
 site room was closed and Farnham could 
 not bring himself to knock and learn he 
 knew not what ; 
 and he dressed 
 with feverish haste, 
 and went on deck 
 with an increasing 
 sense of an agita- 
 tion which he could 
 not shake off. He 
 made a complete 
 tour of the ship, ex- 
 amined every part 
 of the decks, look- 
 ed into the smok- 
 ing-room, and 
 finally went into 
 the dining-saloon, 
 where a vacant 
 chair marked Cap- 
 tain Black's place at the breakfast-table ; 
 and then, coming across his cabin-steward, 
 questioned him, and learned that the man
 
 148 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 had been off watch the night before and 
 could tell him nothing. The matter be- 
 gan to assume an ugly look, and Farn- 
 ham went direct to the purser, and in ten 
 minutes the ship was being thoroughly 
 searched from stem to stern. Not a trace 
 of the missing man could be found ; Cap- 
 tain Black had vanished as absolutely as if 
 he had been absorbed into the atmosphere. 
 When Farnham related the events of 
 the preceding night it was determined to 
 question Leath at once ; and on the stew- 
 ard's report that the man was ill and was 
 still in his berth, Farnham and the purser 
 went to his room and knocked for admit- 
 tance. Leath unlocked the door without 
 parley and was back again in his berth as 
 they entered the room, leaning on one 
 elbow and glaring angrily at them as he 
 demanded their business. The man was 
 evidently ill and looked horrible. His 
 face, apparently tanned by the sea air, 
 had taken on a swarthy hue that made
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 149 
 
 his extraordinary pallor even more ghastly 
 than before, and the scar on his chin 
 blazed with an angry flush as though he 
 had been freshly branded on the face. 
 
 He listened to the purser's statement, 
 manifesting extreme agitation as the story 
 proceeded, and at its conclusion fell back 
 upon his pillow and covered his face with 
 his hands. " I can tell you nothing," he 
 said, after a brief silence, speaking in a 
 smothered voice that was singularly dis- 
 cordant. " I left him, smoking and lean- 
 ing on the rail near the turtle-back, and 
 came below at eleven o'clock. You must 
 have heard me," he added, appealing to 
 Farnham, who nodded assent. "What 
 followed is as dark to me as it is to you. 
 I had been drinking and my recollection 
 is confused ; I only remember that the sea 
 was horrible to look at ! " and with a 
 shudder he turned his face to the wall, 
 and Farnham and the purser, exchanging 
 a significant glance, left him.
 
 ISO STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 "We must go to the old man with 
 this," said the purser, with an ominous 
 shake of the head, and requesting Farn- 
 ham to follow him, led the way to the 
 captain's room. The news had already 
 spread about the ship, and as they passed 
 along the deck, little groups of passengers 
 were discussing the tragedy with repressed 
 voices, and Farnham observed, with great 
 annoyance, that they glanced curiously 
 at him as he went by, and felt that he was 
 being connected with the affair in a thor- 
 oughly unpleasant manner. 
 
 The captain heard the grim story 
 through and reflected for a few moments 
 with a disturbed countenance. " There's 
 nothing to be done," he said at length ; 
 "when we get in I shall ask this gentle- 
 man and the other to remain aboard until 
 we can communicate with the authorities. 
 If Leath refuses," he continued, fixing on 
 the unfortunate man with the same suspi- 
 cion that possessed both Farnham and
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 151 
 
 the purser, " I shall take the responsibility 
 of detaining him. Meanwhile, take charge 
 of the missing man's effects and tell the 
 men not to talk." 
 
 And now that the dark premonition had 
 grown into a gruesome fact, Farnham be- 
 gan to experience a depression of spirits 
 that promised to put an end to his enjoy- 
 ment of the remainder of the voyage. As 
 the day wore on, the gloom fastened upon 
 him like a pall, until he was impelled, 
 just before nightfall, to go to the purser 
 and ask to be given another room, where 
 he could be free from the disquieting as- 
 sociations of his late quarters, and away 
 from the immediate proximity of Leath, 
 for whom he had conceived an uncon- 
 querable aversion. The purser fell in 
 with his humor without demur, and Farn- 
 ham found himself transferred to a stuffy 
 inside cabin on the main deck with a posi- 
 tive sense of benefaction. His former 
 apartment was abandoned to the goods
 
 152 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and chattels of Captain Black, and Leath, 
 locked in his room, was left alone with his 
 secret, if he had one. 
 
 It was with a sense of infinite relief that 
 Farnham, coming on deck one morning, 
 saw the Skelligs rising like mammoth 
 teeth from the sea, and soon afterward 
 the green cliffs of the Irish mainland. His 
 spirits rose as the steamer ran along the 
 coast, passed inside the Fastnet Rock, 
 and finally turned into the mouth of 
 Queenstown Harbor ; and he watched 
 with lively interest the arrival alongside 
 of the rakish little tender and the transfer 
 of an interminable number of mail-bags 
 to her ample deck. The procession of 
 bag-bearing stewards having finished their 
 labors, he crossed to the opposite side of 
 the ship, and was engaged in serene con- 
 templation of the whitewashed glories of 
 the Roche's Point light, when he was 
 touched on the shoulder, and turning, saw 
 the purser at his side with two strangers.
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 153 
 
 " We are beginning to get a little light 
 on our affair, Mr. Farnham," said the pur- 
 ser. " These gentlemen are officers from 
 Scotland Yard with a requisition and a 
 warrant for the arrest of Captain Black 
 on a charge of forgery. Mr. Lethbridge 
 and Mr. Darke Mr. Farnham," and the 
 two detectives touched their hats and re- 
 garded Farnham with a professional air, 
 as if longing to take him into custody in 
 the absence of their legitimate prey. 
 
 "No statement to make, I suppose," 
 said Mr. Lethbridge, a sharp-featured, 
 fresh-faced man with light hair. 
 
 "None," said Farnham. "Mr. Neal 
 knows all I can tell you." 
 
 "Very good, sir," said Lethbridge, af- 
 fably. " Now, then, Mr. Neal," he added, 
 turning to the purser, " if you'll be good 
 enough to show us below, we'll take a look 
 at the effects ; " and touching their hats 
 again, the two officers followed the purser, 
 leaving Farnham to resume his inter-
 
 154 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 rupted observation of the lighthouse. 
 Meanwhile, with a prodigious ringing of 
 bells, the tender cast off and paddled up 
 the harbor, the great pulse began to throb 
 again, and the steamer, turning her prow 
 seaward, went on her way up the Chan- 
 nel. 
 
 Farnham, slowly pacing the deck, pres- 
 ently saw the purser and Lethbridge 
 emerge from the companionway and come 
 toward him. " Mr. Farnham," said the 
 former, " I'm afraid you and I, without 
 saying much about the matter, have been 
 doing that poor devil Leath a great injus- 
 tice. Read this," and he handed Farnham 
 an unsealed envelope. It was addressed 
 " To whom it may concern," and opening 
 it, Farnham found enclosed the following 
 letter : 
 
 In the almost absolute certainty of be- 
 ing apprehended upon my arrival, I have 
 chosen the only means open to me of 
 avoiding the disgrace and punishment
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 155 
 
 that would inevitably follow. I had hoped 
 to escape, with the firm intention of never 
 resting until I had made restitution for the 
 only crime that has ever stained my life ; 
 but it was not to be. The appearance, at 
 the moment of departure, of a man upon 
 whose blind confidence and dull appre- 
 hension I had relied, for such a tardy dis- 
 covery of my betrayal of trust as would 
 give me ample time for escape, has told 
 me that the cable would assuredly carry 
 the intelligence abroad long before I could 
 reach English soil. 
 
 I had at first no intention of leaving New 
 York. I expected, with incredible fatuity, 
 to delay exposure until some lucky chance 
 should permit me to cover, for all time, the 
 traces of my wrong-doing ; but the mental 
 strain consequent upon continued and 
 complicated falsifying of accounts, be- 
 came unendurable, and in an evil mo- 
 ment I appropriated certain funds from 
 a quarter where immediate examination 
 and discovery were improbable, and ven- 
 tured all upon that mirage of default- 
 ers faro. I lost. There was no time for 
 resort to the expedients of disguise and
 
 156 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 concealed identity which might have saved 
 me. I attempted to deceive my associate 
 by the desperate subterfuge of a forged 
 cable message calling me abroad on fam- 
 ily affairs ; made up my luggage and 
 boarded the steamer almost at the hour of 
 sailing, only to find myself unmasked at 
 the last moment. 
 
 I feel no longing for the life I am about 
 to end, nor do I leave a single soul who 
 will mourn my death. I regret, alone, 
 that restitution is beyond my power. The 
 sea is merciful to me in all else. 
 
 LANSING BLACK. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! " said Farnham. " How 
 bad a matter was it ? " 
 
 " Extensive forgeries and about sixteen 
 thousand pounds in hard cash, supposed 
 to be with him," replied Lethbridge. 
 " That's all we know. Particulars by 
 mail." 
 
 "I am glad Leath is out of it, at all 
 events," said Farnham, heartily enough. 
 
 " So am I, sir," echoed the purser ; "but
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 157 
 
 Tm blessed if it didn't look ugly for a 
 while." With which reminiscence he and 
 Mr. Lethbridge went below again to re- 
 sume their examination of Captain Black's 
 effects. 
 
 Leath kept his room with extraordinary 
 persistence until the last moment. Farn- 
 ham, with a vague idea of making amends 
 for his recent suspicions by some sort of 
 friendly advances, looked for him on the 
 tender the next morning, but failed to find 
 him in the crowd of passengers ; nor did 
 he get a sight of him until the very last 
 of the number were disembarking, when 
 Leath, wearing a mackintosh reaching to 
 his heels, and with a muffler or scarf 
 swathed about the lower part of his face, 
 suddenly appeared at the head of the gang- 
 way leading to the landing-stage, and 
 paused irresolutely, as if loath to come 
 ashore. Farnham, who was awaiting his 
 luggage on the landing-stage and chatting 
 meanwhile with the two detectives, was
 
 158 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 about to attract his attention by a sign of 
 recognition, when Leath, as if suddenly 
 mastering his indecision, strode rapidly 
 down the gangway, and began roughly 
 pushing his way through the throng of 
 waiting passengers. At this moment Leth- 
 bridge touched Farnham on the arm and 
 pointed significantly to a woman who was 
 standing at the foot of the gangway with 
 her eyes intently fixed upon Leath. She 
 was a sad-faced woman, plainly clad, and 
 Farnham noticed that she was holding her 
 hand tremulously to her mouth, as if en- 
 deavoring to control excessive agitation. 
 As Leath passed her without a glance of 
 recognition, her eyes dilated as with a 
 sudden sickening terror, and then, appar- 
 ently moved by an uncontrollable impulse, 
 she flung herself before him with her 
 hands against his breast, crying, " Roger! 
 Don't you know me ? " Leath's face, for 
 an instant, looked as if it had been turned 
 to stone, then, catching sight of Farnham's
 
 160 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 astonished gaze, he instantly passed his 
 arm about the imploring figure before him 
 and said hurriedly, "I did not see you. 
 Come away," and pushed on with the 
 woman, sobbing convulsively, on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Rather a rum meeting, that," observed 
 Mr. Lethbridge, dryly, and Farnham, who 
 had witnessed the scene with an imme- 
 diate revival of his former antipathy, 
 shrugged his shoulders in infinite disgust, 
 and washing his hands of Mr. Leath and 
 his affairs, went off to look after his own 
 effects. 
 
 No further incidents of importance 
 marked Farnham's sojourn abroad. He 
 traversed the beaten road of insular and 
 continental sightseeing for his allotted 
 time, and returned to his legal grindstone 
 with such agreeable recollections of his 
 vacation, that the following June found 
 him again in London with the pleasant 
 prospect of further rambles before him
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK l6l 
 
 during the summer months. He had 
 heard the particulars of the forgery while 
 at home, but it was simply the old story 
 of securities raised from their face value, 
 followed by the coarser crime of actual 
 theft, and ending with a ruined firm and a 
 beggared partner ; and the affair had al- 
 most passed from his memory, when it 
 was suddenly recalled by an incident of 
 the most startling character. 
 
 Farnham, waiting for a friend, was 
 standing at the window of that depress- 
 ing apartment, the smoking-room of 
 Her Majesty's Hotel, gazing aimlessly 
 into the side street and observing the 
 grimy wall of a noble lord's grounds on 
 the opposite side of the way, when his 
 attention was attracted to two men who 
 came from the direction of the neigh- 
 boring thoroughfare, and stopped, con- 
 versing leisurely, at the entrance to the 
 hotel. With the man who faced him 
 Farnham had no concern ; but he was
 
 162 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 instantly and strangely interested in the 
 other, who stood with his back toward 
 him. The subtile individuality which oc- 
 casionally asserts itself in the human 
 back told him that he knew this man, 
 and the consciousness -sent an unac- 
 countable thrill through his veins. A 
 moment after, the other of the two 
 walked away and the owner of the ex- 
 pressive back turned to enter the hotel. 
 As Farnham caught sight of his face his 
 first impression was that he had been 
 mistaken ; then there arose in his mem- 
 ory, like a flash of light, a vision of the 
 deck of the Servia a year ago and the 
 two consorting men who had so unpleas- 
 antly impressed him, and he recoiled as 
 though he had been shot. The full brown 
 beard had disappeared, and a carefully 
 waxed gray mustache and pointed goatee 
 had replaced it; but if Captain Black 
 ever walked upon the earth he stood in 
 the flesh before Farnham at that mo-
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 163 
 
 ment. As this astounding fact divulged 
 itself the man disappeared through the 
 doorway, and Farnham sank breathless 
 into a chair. 
 
 The apparition, for it seemed little 
 more to Farnham's excited fancy, came 
 directly into the smoking-room, glanced 
 casually at him as he sat quaking in his 
 chair, and went out without a sign of 
 recognition. Farnham breathed again. 
 He had grown stouter and wore a beard, 
 and it afforded him unspeakable relief 
 to feel that these changes in his out- 
 ward man had effectually concealed his 
 identity. He sat still, watching through 
 the open doorway the man who had 
 apparently risen from the sea, and saw 
 him stop for a moment at the office win- 
 dow and then pass through the hall and 
 up the stairs. He was evidently staying 
 at the hotel, and Farnham, presently re- 
 covering his composure, sauntered out 
 of the room with as much unconcern as
 
 164 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 he could assume and inquired of the 
 hall-porter who the gentleman was who 
 had just come in. 
 
 " His name is Pelham, sir," said the 
 man; "Mr. Francis Pelham, I think. 
 He's not stopped here before, sir." 
 
 "Thank you," said Farnham. " Be 
 good enough not to mention that I in- 
 quired ; he might consider it an imperti- 
 nence ; " and impressing this injunction 
 upon the porter by a judicious bestowal 
 of a shilling, he went out and, oblivious 
 of his appointment, hailed a hansom and 
 was driven to Scotland Yard as fast as 
 an indifferent horse could take him. 
 
 Lethbridge was absent, but upon Farn- 
 ham's assurance that his business was 
 urgent, he was sent for and presently 
 came in, and Farnham was again re- 
 assured by finding that even the detect- 
 ive's keen eye failed to recognize him in 
 his altered personality. A reference to 
 the events of the preceding summer,
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 165 
 
 however, immediately recalled him to 
 Lethbridge's memory, and he told, as 
 concisely as possible, the extraordinary 
 discovery which he believed he had 
 made. Lethbridge heard him through 
 and then shook his head incredulously. 
 "I've come across strange things in my 
 line, Mr. Farnham," he said, "but this 
 is the toughest yarn I've ever heard yet. 
 It can't be, sir, it can't be. Darke and 
 I prodded every corner of the ship, and 
 I tell you the man wasn't there." 
 
 "And I tell you that the man is in 
 London at this moment," said Farnham, 
 vehemently. "Apply any test that you 
 please, and you'll find I'm right." 
 
 Lethbridge pondered dubiously for a 
 moment, and then asked Farnham to re- 
 peat to him, in their consecutive order, 
 all the details of Captain Black's disap- 
 pearance from the steamer. This Farn- 
 ham did with scrupulous exactness, 
 Lethbridge listening attentively and
 
 l66 STORIES OF THB SKA 
 
 checking off the narrative from time to 
 time with affirmative nods of his head. 
 
 " Now," said Lethbridge, " go over the 
 business on the landing-stage in the same 
 way, so I may be sure I've got the thing 
 straight in my head." 
 
 Farnham complied as before, and was 
 carefully reciting the sequence of events, 
 when he became suddenly aware of a 
 change in the detective's manner. Leth- 
 bridge was leaning forward in his chair 
 in an attitude of the most alert atten- 
 tion, and with a strange gleam in his 
 eyes that betokened extraordinary emo- 
 tion ; and as the story ended, he brought 
 his hand down upon his knee with a 
 resounding slap and exclaimed exulting- 
 ly, " By George, I have it! " 
 
 " Now look here, sir," he continued, 
 before Farnham could speak ; ' ' you can 
 help us if you will. If this is the right 
 man, he is an extraordinary cool hand, 
 and we mustn't touch him until we are
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 167 
 
 ready for him. That won't be until day 
 after to-morrow, as I must send a man 
 out of town to bring up another party 
 that we shall need." 
 
 "But suppose " said Farnham, who 
 would have preferred immediate action ; 
 "suppose, meanwhile, our man takes it 
 into his head to leave." 
 
 " Then I'll stop him at a venture," said 
 Lethbridge, with a grim smile, "but I 
 don't want to move a minute too soon 
 if I can help it. Now, I want you to 
 take a table near him in the coffee-room 
 say to-morrow at breakfast." 
 
 "But I'm not staying there," objected 
 Farnham. 
 
 "Take a room there over-night," said 
 Lethbridge, promptly, " and give 'em a 
 wrong name." 
 
 " I don t fancy doing that," said Farn- 
 ham, after a moment's reflection. 
 
 " There isn't a bit of 'arm in it," said 
 Lethbridge, "and it will help us a lot."
 
 168 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 "And what then?" said Farnham. 
 
 " Why, then," continued Lethbridge, 
 with a reassuring smile, "when you're 
 ready to go in to breakfast, just step 
 out of the 'otel door for a moment so I 
 can see you, and then leave word if any 
 one asks for you, to have him shown in 
 direct to your table. That'll give me a 
 chance for complete observation of your 
 party without attracting any attention 
 whatsoever, and without anybody being 
 any the wiser but me. After that you 
 can go off and leave the business in my 
 hands until everything's ready. I sup- 
 pose you'd like to see the end of it, sir?" 
 concluded the detective, with a confident 
 interrogation. 
 
 "Well yes; after having gone so far 
 I would," said Farnham. 
 
 " Very good, sir, I'll look you up," 
 said Mr. Lethbridge, cheerfully. "Mind 
 you sit with your back to him." 
 
 Farnham went away with a disquiet-
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 169 
 
 ing sense of having been cleverly im- 
 pressed into the English detective ser- 
 vice ; but an irrepressible desire to follow 
 up the unravelling of the mystery that 
 lay before him enabled him to stifle cer- 
 tain stirrings of conscience by the self- 
 assurance that he was merely furthering 
 the ends of justice. He wandered aim- 
 lessly about, avoiding the vicinity of the 
 hotel until bedtime, when he sneaked in, 
 carrying a satchel, and with a humiliat- 
 ing consciousness of imposture lying 
 heavily on his mind, and was allotted a 
 gloomy back room at the top of the 
 house. Here he passed a horrible night, 
 largely occupied in running down pre- 
 posterous criminals of all grades, and 
 awoke with a pardonable feeling of re- 
 pugnance for his self-invited breakfast 
 company. 
 
 Pelham was already seated in the 
 coffee-room when he went down-stairs, 
 and having bespoken the adjoining table,
 
 170 STORIES OF THE SKA 
 
 he went to the entrance door of the 
 hotel as agreed and looked up and down 
 the street. Not a sign of Lethbridge 
 could be seen, and Farnham, with a 
 cheering hope that the appointment had 
 miscarried, went in to breakfast and 
 seated himself with his back to his un- 
 suspecting neighbor. He had ordered his 
 customary eggs and bacon and break- 
 fast tea, and was looking through the 
 morning paper, when a dark-complex- 
 ioned man with a profusion of black 
 hair, and wearing spectacles, was shown 
 in to his table, and, before Farnham could 
 utter a protest, seated himself, and tak- 
 ing from his pocket a bundle of docu- 
 ments, began, "I have looked into the 
 matter of the mining prospectus, and I 
 have all the figures here as you request- 
 ed." With this there came a warning 
 pressure of his foot beneath the table, 
 and Farnham knew that Lethbridge sat 
 before him.
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK IJI 
 
 Farnham was already sufficiently out 
 of humor to be excessively annoyed by 
 what he considered a useless and ridicu- 
 lous masquerade, and ate his breakfast 
 in sullen silence, while Lethbridge rat- 
 tled on with amazing volubility, giving 
 the most astounding statistics about the 
 mining property, and keeping mean- 
 while a stealthy watch upon the sus- 
 pected man at the adjoining table, until 
 having presumably familiarized himself 
 to the proper standard, he gathered up 
 his papers and took his departure, to 
 Farnham's infinite relief. That thorough- 
 ly disgusted gentleman dawdled over his 
 breakfast until he heard Pelham leave 
 the room, and seeing him presently pass 
 the coffee-room window, took his own 
 departure, satchel in hand, mentally vow- 
 ing never to be caught again in a simi- 
 lar mess. 
 
 The next morning, just as he had 
 finished breakfasting at his own lodg-
 
 172 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ings, Lethbridge, fresh-faced and fair- 
 haired again, made his appearance in 
 such confident humor that Farnham's 
 spirits revived somewhat under the buoy- 
 ancy of the detective's manner, and he 
 inquired what was the next step to be 
 taken. 
 
 " I'm going to bait a hook," said Leth- 
 bridge, with an expression of infinite rel- 
 ish, "and if your man doesn't rise to it 
 you can call me a Dutchman. It may 
 be a long fish, but if we catch anything 
 it will be as good a day's work as ever 
 I did in my life." 
 
 The baiting of the hook, which Farn- 
 ham awaited with considerable curiosity, 
 proved to be a simple matter enough. 
 Lethbridge merely wrote the words " Cap- 
 tain Lansing Black " in a large bold hand 
 on a sheet of note-paper, enclosed it in 
 an envelope addressed " Francis Pel- 
 ham, Esq.," and with an air of extreme 
 confidence invited Farnham to accom-
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 173 
 
 pany him to the hotel and witness the 
 landing of the fish. 
 
 They strolled back and forth upon the 
 Piccadilly pavement in a line of observ- 
 ance of the hotel entrance, until Mr. 
 Pelham, gloved and well apparelled, was 
 seen to go out. Then Farnham, acting 
 under Lethbridge's instructions, walked 
 into the hallway, and explaining that he 
 was awaiting a friend, seated himself at 
 one side of the entrance door and be- 
 came absorbed in perusal of a morning 
 paper. Presently Lethbridge strolled in 
 and, after a brief interview with the 
 manager in that gentleman's private of- 
 fice, placed the envelope in Pelham's 
 letter-box in the hall, and seating him- 
 self on the opposite side of the entrance 
 door, became a silent rival of Farnham 
 in the matter of looking up the day's 
 news. The hall-porter, a pompous fel- 
 low with a double chin and wearing a 
 black skull-cap, seated himself in his
 
 174 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 leather-covered bath-chair, all uncon- 
 scious of the drama that was developing 
 under his very nose, and dropped off 
 into a nap and the watch began. 
 
 It was a long one, as Lethbridge had 
 surmised, and the hours wore slowly on. 
 Farnham having digested the exhaust- 
 ive details of events in Her Britannic 
 Majesty's realm, and the scant references 
 to other portions of the globe peculiar 
 to the British press, was endeavoring to 
 concentrate his attention upon the ad- 
 vertisements and occasionally relapsing 
 into a doze, when Lethbridge coughed, 
 and at the same moment Pelham opened 
 the door and walked into the hall. Farn- 
 ham, with his heart thumping like a trip- 
 hammer against his ribs, glanced at his 
 companion ; but that imperturbable indi- 
 vidual was so absorbed in the news that 
 Farnham, for a moment, feared that he 
 had not noticed that their man had 
 arrived. The next instant, however,
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 175 
 
 Lethbridge's eyes appeared, gleaming 
 like coals of fire over the top of his 
 newspaper, and Farnham, following their 
 gaze, saw that the supreme moment had 
 come. Pelham was at the letter-box. 
 
 A lump suddenly rose into Farnham 's 
 throat, and he was conscious that he was 
 trembling violently from head to foot as 
 Pelham took the envelope from the box, 
 glanced carelessly at the address upon 
 it, and then opened it. As his eyes met 
 the name on the enclosed sheet he re- 
 coiled, glanced like lightning about the 
 hall, and then, crumpling up paper and 
 envelope, he thrust them into his pocket 
 and was in the street again almost be- 
 fore Farnham could realize what had 
 happened. Lethbridge, alert and as agile 
 as a cat, was after him and at his side 
 before he had taken a dozen steps, and 
 Farnham, looking through the window, 
 saw that there was a brief colloquy, fol- 
 lowed by a shrug of Pelham's shoulders,
 
 176 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and then the two men entered a cab and 
 were driven away. "Now for it!" said 
 Farnham to himself, and, calling a cab in 
 his turn, he followed at all speed, in a 
 curious whirl of speculations as to how 
 the matter would end. 
 
 He was evidently expected at Scot- 
 land Yard, and on giving his name was 
 shown without inquiry into a well-lighted 
 room, where Lethbridge and a military- 
 looking official, who proved to be the 
 inspector, were conversing in a low tone 
 in a corner. Pelham, who had appar- 
 ently quite recovered his composure, was 
 looking out of the window with his back 
 toward them, standing with his legs well 
 apart, and swinging his walking-stick 
 with an air of supreme unconcern. He 
 glanced indifferently at Farnham as he 
 entered the room, and then, apparently 
 relegating him to the obscurity of the 
 official staff, resumed his former attitude 
 at the window and gazed steadily into
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 177 
 
 the court-yard until the inspector said, 
 "Now then, Mr. Pelham, if you please," 
 when he turned, showing a face deadly 
 pale, but with features evidently under 
 full command. 
 
 " Mr. Pelham," continued the inspec- 
 tor, with extreme urbanity, "it is prob- 
 ably unnecessary to inform you that we 
 have no power to compel you to give us 
 any information. In fact, it is quite within 
 your discretion to preserve absolute silence 
 if you choose, until you have taken legal 
 counsel. At the same time, as it is quite 
 possible that this is a case of mistaken 
 identity, you can readily avoid further 
 complications, and perhaps your further 
 detention, by answering a few ques- 
 tions." Here the inspector paused, and 
 Pelham, after a moment's deliberation, 
 inquired haughtily, "What are the ques- 
 tions?" 
 
 "First," said the inspector, "are you 
 Captain Lansing Black?"
 
 178 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 "Captain Black was lost at sea a year 
 ago," replied Pelham, without manifest- 
 ing the slightest emotion. "The papers 
 were full of the affair, and you must 
 have known of it through them, if not 
 through the investigations of your own 
 department. The question strikes me as 
 an absurdity." 
 
 " Next," said the inspector, with un- 
 ruffled composure, "were you a pas- 
 senger on the Servia, on her homeward 
 passage in June of last year?" 
 
 "I was not," replied Pelham. 
 
 "This gentleman " said the inspec- 
 tor, quietly, indicating Farnham by a 
 motion of his head "is prepared to 
 swear that you were." 
 
 Pelham instantly concentrated his gaze 
 upon Farnham, and regarded him in- 
 tently for a moment with knitted brows, 
 much to that gentleman's discomposure. 
 The recognition that must have followed 
 this scrutiny was, however, effectually
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 179 
 
 concealed. Beyond a momentary flush 
 upon his face, Pelham evinced no dis- 
 comfiture whatever, and, turning to the 
 inspector, said, with a contemptuous 
 smile, " Then this gentleman is prepared 
 to swear to a lie," adding, with a sud- 
 den burst of anger, "what rot all this 
 is!" 
 
 " Possibly," replied the inspector, cool- 
 ly, "but our description of the man we 
 want tallies so closely with your appear- 
 ance that the mistake is pardonable. 
 Read it, Mr. Lethbridge,". and Leth- 
 bridge, taking a folded paper from his 
 pocket, read as follows, Pelham, mean- 
 while, fixing his eyes upon the ceiling, 
 and resuming his former expression of 
 nonchalance : 
 
 "Height, about five feet ten; erect, 
 military carriage, broad shoulders, small 
 hands and feet ; brown eyes, stern in 
 expression, regular features, dark com- 
 plexion ; reserved and haughty man-
 
 180 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ner; wore, when last seen, a full brown 
 beard " here the detective paused. 
 
 "That doesn't help me," remarked 
 Pelham, with cool effrontery ; "a man's 
 beard may turn gray in a twelvemonth, 
 and shaving is, I believe optional." 
 
 "Go on, Lethbridge," said the in- 
 spector, with his eyes steadily riveted 
 on Pelham's face ; and Lethbridge con- 
 tinued ' ' Had on his left forearm two 
 
 crossed arrows in India ink " when 
 
 Pelham, removing his gaze from the ceil- 
 ing, broke in sharply with " What's that ? " 
 
 Farnham, who chanced to be watch- 
 ing Lethbridge as he read, saw him ex- 
 change a significant glance with the 
 inspector, which for an instant puzzled 
 him ; but as he turned his eyes upon 
 Pelham and noticed the expression of 
 his face, the truth burst upon him like 
 a flash. The man had been betrayed 
 into surprise by the mention of this 
 mark in a description of himself.
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK l8l 
 
 Pelham instantly saw his mistake, and 
 his features moved convulsively for a 
 moment before he could bring them 
 under control. In the death-like silence 
 that ensued the ticking of the clock was 
 distinctly audible, and it seemed to 
 Farnham's excited fancy to be solemn- 
 ly marking off the few minutes that re- 
 mained before the closing in of the net. 
 Then, with a sang-froid which under the 
 circumstances was amazing, Pelham be- 
 gan to unbutton the sleeve-link on his 
 left wrist. "That is not necessary, Mr. 
 Pelham," said the inspector, with his 
 deadly gaze still upon the other's face. 
 " Your word will be sufficient in this 
 case," with an unpleasant inflection upon 
 the last words which caught Farnham's 
 alert attention at once. By this time the 
 tension on his nerves had become almost 
 unbearable, and as he moistened his dry 
 lips and clinched his hands, he felt that he 
 was perhaps the most agitated man in the
 
 182 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 room. Pelham, whose angry flush under 
 the examination had given place to his 
 former deadly pallor, had recovered his 
 nerve and, but for the great beads of 
 sweat upon his forehead, was holding 
 himself well in hand. 
 
 The inspector spoke again. " We have 
 one more test to apply, Mr. Pelham," 
 he said, with an ominous accentuation 
 of the name ; and making a sign to 
 Lethbridge, the detective left the room 
 and almost instantly returned, followed 
 by a woman, who stood just within the 
 door gazing at the group with startled 
 eyes. One glance at her showed Farn- 
 ham a sad, worn face, and a trembling 
 hand shielding the quivering lips, and 
 he recognized the poor creature who 
 stood on the landing-stage a year before, 
 and stayed Leath with her hands against 
 his breast With this scene thus sud- 
 denly recalled to memory, he turned 
 his eyes upon Pelham, who had fixed
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 183 
 
 his gaze with terrible intensity upon the 
 woman's face, and a strange horror 
 came over him as he saw the sem- 
 blance of Captain Black apparently fad- 
 ing into a contorted likeness of Leath 
 as if a metempsychosis were unveiling 
 itself before his eyes. The inspector's 
 voice again broke the silence, address- 
 ing the woman. " Mrs. Leath, do you 
 know this man? " 
 
 " Stop! " said Pelham, imperiously, be- 
 fore she could reply. "Don't question 
 her. This lies between ourselves, and 
 you have no concern in it. There is no 
 use in further subterfuge. I shall make 
 proper amends to this injured and de- 
 serted woman, and I believe there is no 
 law requiring the detention of a man 
 who has merely absented himself from 
 his home and his wife." 
 
 " None whatever," replied the in- 
 spector, with a grim smile. 
 
 " And this gentleman," continued Pel-
 
 184 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ham, turning with a ghastly smile to 
 Farnham, " will, I hope, pardon the rude- 
 ness of a man caught in a hole. The 
 confusion .of my face with that of Cap- 
 tain Black was natural enough. We were 
 not altogether unlike, and the lapse of a 
 year might well mislead anyone ; " and 
 with this he turned to Mrs. Leath with 
 an assumption of heartiness and held 
 out both his hands. But the woman re- 
 coiled with horror in her eyes and with 
 her hands held up to repelhim. "God 
 save me!" she cried, tremulously, "it's 
 like him and it is not. I don't know 
 him." 
 
 "It's the beard that confuses you," 
 said Pelham, anxiously insisting upon 
 his identity. " See, Margaret! " and sep- 
 arating the hair upon his chin, he re- 
 vealed the hideous scar running down- 
 ward from the corner of the mouth. 
 "Isn't that enough?" he added appeal- 
 ingly to Farnham, who could only stare
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 185 
 
 in utter bewilderment at this seemingly 
 incontestable proof; and then realizing 
 that his protestations were being received 
 in ominous silence, he turned to the two 
 officers and cried passionately, "What 
 more, in God's name, do you want?" 
 
 "Well, if it isn't asking too much," 
 said the inspector, quite unmoved by this 
 outbreak, " it would be a little more 
 satisfactory to have your wife recognize 
 you." 
 
 " She does recognize me. She must! " 
 exclaimed the suspected man, with des- 
 perate eagerness. " We had not met in 
 eighteen years when she saw me land 
 at Liverpool, and I left her there almost 
 without a word. The woman is simply 
 misled by her absurd emotion. Can't I 
 be allowed even to know who I am?" 
 
 "Certainly," said the inspector, cool- 
 ly, "but you have been several persons 
 lately. If you are quite sure who you 
 are now, you may expose your left arm.
 
 l86 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 It was Leath who had the mark of the 
 crossed arrows." 
 
 Farnham, glancing at the man who 
 had been so adroitly unmasked, saw him 
 recoil as though he had been stung, and 
 averted his eyes to avoid witnessing the 
 distressing spectacle of collapse which 
 he thought was at hand ; but the other, 
 nerving himself for a final defiance, 
 turned his back upon Mrs. Leath with 
 brutal indifference and said, with cool 
 insolence, " I seem to have fallen into 
 your clumsy trap, and," he added, with 
 a vindictive scowl at Farnham, "I con- 
 gratulate this gentleman upon his police 
 work as a spy, in running me down. I 
 am Lansing Black. Is there anything 
 more?" 
 
 "Yes," said the imperturbable inspect- 
 or, "What became of Roger Leath?" 
 
 Black glared at him wildly for an in- 
 stant, and then sank back into a chair 
 and covered his face with his hands,
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 187 
 
 while Mrs. Leath, with a heartrending 
 cry, fell heavily to the floor. 
 
 The next morning Farnham was ner- 
 vously pacing the floor of his breakfast- 
 room, suffering from what may be con- 
 cisely described as a surfeit of detective 
 work, when Lethbridge was shown in ; 
 and a glance at that astute gentleman's 
 face assured him that matters were not 
 altogether as they should be in the af- 
 fair of Captain Black. " He swears he 
 never touched Leath," said the detec- 
 tive, "and we haven't anything to go 
 on but the circumstantial evidence". I 
 hoped he would break down and con- 
 fess, but he is as hard as a flint." 
 
 "What explanation does he offer?" 
 inquired Farnham. "The business 
 couldn't possibly look blacker for him 
 as it stands." 
 
 "Well, his story is pretty straight as 
 it goes," said Lethbridge. " He says his
 
 188 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 attention was first attracted to Leath by 
 the scar on his chin, having one precisely 
 like it himself. Then he saw there was 
 enough resemblance between them to 
 pass among strangers if he took oft" his 
 beard. He swears he wrote the note 
 then without any definite plan and put 
 it into his portmanteau simply to have 
 it already there if he had to act with- 
 out premeditation. Likewise, he says his 
 idea was to buy up Leath to act with 
 him in some way. That may be or it 
 may not. As luck would have it, Leath 
 drank heavily that night, and Black got 
 his keys from him on pretence of going 
 down to get him some cigars or some- 
 thing of that sort ; and when at last they 
 went out of the smoking-room, Leath, 
 who was as full as a lord, put on the 
 other man's ulster by mistake; so you 
 see things seemed to work pretty hand- 
 somely for Captain Black. Now he says 
 the end of it was that Leath insisted on
 
 CAPTAIN BLACK 189 
 
 sitting upon the rail, and, by George, 
 the first roll the ship took, over he went." 
 
 "I shouldn't fancy standing trial on 
 such a yarn as that," said Farnham. 
 
 " No more would I," said Lethbridge, 
 with a fine idiom, "but there it is. When 
 he was locked up in Leath's room, of 
 course he read over his papers and was 
 prepared to meet his wife, and by the 
 way, sir, it was his dropping of Mrs. 
 Leath as gave me the clue. He took 
 her out to a cab and told her he'd go 
 and look after his luggage, and that was 
 the last she saw of him. Having been 
 on the ship, I was called in to look him 
 up, but he seems to have an extraordi- 
 nary way of making way with himself, 
 and I couldn't find a trace of him. Says 
 he boarded an outgoing sailing-ship and 
 went to Copenhagen, which is likely 
 enough. Now," continued Mr. Leth- 
 bridge, who seemed to have conceived 
 a marked admiration for Farnham's de-
 
 190 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 tective abilities, " I've another little thing 
 on hand which perhaps you'd like to 
 follow up with me." 
 
 "Thank you," said Farnham, dryly; 
 " I believe I've had enough."
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 BY GEORGE HOWE, M.D.
 
 I WAS a medical student in New Or- 
 leans, La., and the course of lectures for 
 the season of 1858-59 had just closed. My 
 name, with others, had been submitted to 
 the administrators of the Charity Hospital 
 for appointment as resident student, a 
 certain number being appointed annually, 
 and the announcement of the names of the 
 fortunate few was daily expected. Each 
 morning I met at the hospital gates our 
 late professors, who were visiting phy- 
 sicians and surgeons to the hospital, and 
 with other students made the round of the 
 different wards, each according to his 
 special taste. 
 
 At nine o'clock on the morning of April 
 a6th, while I was awaiting the usual arri- 
 vals at the gates, one of the professors, 
 Dr. Howard Smith, drove up in his bug-
 
 194 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 gy, and without replying to my saluta- 
 tion, said: " George, how would you like 
 to go to the coast of Africa ? " The doc- 
 tor was a very pleasant gentleman, and a 
 great favorite among the students, and, 
 believing him to be in a very pleasant 
 mood, I replied : " First rate, doctor." 
 " How soon can you get ready ? " "I am 
 ready now." He saw from my perplexed 
 air that, although I thought him jesting, I 
 did not understand or see the point " I 
 am seriously in earnest, George ; would 
 you like to go?" "Yes, sir." "When 
 can you be ready? " " As soon as I can 
 go to my lodgings and pack up. " "Well, 
 then, come with me;" and jumping into 
 the buggy with him, I was hurried to the 
 office of the McDonogh Commissioners, 
 representing Baltimore and New Orleans. 
 En route, .the doctor informed me that 
 John McDonogh had died in 1850, pos- 
 sessed of valuable real estate which he had 
 bequeathed to the cities of New Orleans
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 195 
 
 and Baltimore for educational purposes ; 
 he had also a number of slaves, who were 
 given their freedom conditioned upon 
 their emigration to Liberia, after a cer- 
 tain period of years. That time had 
 elapsed and arrangements were made for 
 their transportation. At the last moment 
 it was concluded to send a medical officer 
 with them, and, said the doctor, " That 
 selection having been requested of me, 
 you are my choice, if you will go." 
 
 My engagement was soon made with 
 the commissioners, to render the negroes 
 such professional and other aid as would 
 be necessary on the voyage. I learned 
 further that all the negroes old enough to 
 work had been taught trades and occu- 
 pations, and that all the wages they had 
 earned since their master's death had 
 been placed to their credit, and would be 
 distributed among them before they left ; 
 and that they were fully equipped with 
 all the agricultural and mechanical appli-
 
 196 STORIES OF THE SBA 
 
 ances they might need to make them 
 self-sustaining upon arrival at their future 
 home. There were carpenters, black- 
 smiths, coopers among the men ; and 
 cooks, laundresses, seamstresses, and 
 nurses among the women. It had been 
 intended to send them via Baltimore, by 
 a sailing- packet leaving annually in the 
 spring for the colony of Liberia with im- 
 migrants and general supplies, and re- 
 turning with such products as the colony 
 exported ; but an opportunity offering, 
 they would be sent direct from New Or- 
 leans on the sailing ship Rebecca. 
 
 In the office some of the gentlemen in- 
 dulged in pleasant jokes about "wool and 
 ivory," and one of them wrote a letter to 
 the surgeon of the United States man-of- 
 war Vincennes, stationed on the coast of 
 Africa, saying : "This is a letter of intro- 
 duction and may be of use to you." I 
 was so engrossed with the idea of going 
 to Africa that, although I heard, I did not
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 197 
 
 attach that special importance to the 
 jokes and remarks that I did afterward. 
 Leaving them, I went to my lodgings and 
 soon packed my books, clothing, etc. 
 
 On my way to the ship, I stopped at 
 the telegraph office and sent to my pa- 
 rents in Natchez, Miss., the following 
 message: "Gone to the coast of Africa." 
 I was on board the ship at twelve o'clock, 
 at the Government wharf, waiting for the 
 tow-boat, to be conveyed to sea. I pre- 
 sented myself to the captain, who was 
 busy with the details of departure. He, 
 having received no notice of my employ- 
 ment, appeared annoyed, but asked me 
 to the cabin and ordered the steward to 
 prepare my room. Going upon deck I 
 saw a motley group of negroes, mulat- 
 toes, quadroons, men, women, and chil- 
 dren of all ages, numbering forty-three ; 
 they were busy getting their baggage on 
 board. Many of them were not anxious 
 to go, and were much disheartened at the
 
 idea of leaving 
 home. Just then ar- 
 rived several of the 
 commissioners with 
 their wives, who 
 were known to the 
 negroes, and after a 
 while they were so successful in impart- 
 ing new courage and cheerful faces to 
 the immigrants that their adieus were less 
 sad than I expected. 
 
 The ship left the wharf at four o'clock 
 in the evening. Early next morning we 
 were at the mouth of the river, and in an- 
 other hour on the open sea. A pleasant
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 199 
 
 southerly breeze drove us along about 
 eight miles an hour, and dinner being 
 called, I found at the captain's table 
 Captain C , a naturalized Scotch- 
 Englishman, the first mate, Mr. T , 
 
 a Long Islander, and two Spanish gentle- 
 men speaking very little English, and my- 
 self. An introduction followed, one Span- 
 ish gentleman explaining that they were 
 on their way to a trading point on the 
 African coast, representing a commer- 
 cial house in Havana, and that having 
 waited a long while unsuccessfully for an 
 opportunity to get there, he had taken 
 passage on this vessel as far as its voyage 
 extended. 
 
 Our dinner over, the mate remained in 
 the cabin and the other officers came to 
 the table ; we were thus introduced by 
 the mate : " This is Dr. Sawbones ; I am 
 mate ; here is the second mate ; there is 
 the carpenter. Now, how is it that you 
 were engaged at the last moment to come
 
 200 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 with us?" After explaining all that I 
 knew about it, he replied: "It would 
 have been better for you to have known 
 something about the ship and her des- 
 tination before you accepted." This re- 
 called the jokes of the commissioners and 
 set me thinking. 
 
 That night, during the mate's watch, I 
 approached him and, after a few remarks 
 
 about the weather, etc., said: " Mr. T , 
 
 I did not quite understand your remark 
 at dinner ; if you can do so, please ex- 
 plain." After a long silence, he replied : 
 " Well, you will find it out sooner or later, 
 and I do not know that I am violating any 
 confidence in telling you now ; this ship 
 is a Slaver. Yes ; that is just what she 
 is, and belongs to a company of Span- 
 iards who are represented here by the 
 eldest of the Spanish passengers, who 
 will be the captain at the proper time ; 
 the other Spaniard will be his mate. 
 They purchased this ship two months
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 2OI 
 
 ago, and have had all sorts of difficulties 
 ever since with the Custom-house. She 
 sails under the American flag, and is sup- 
 posed to be owned by a commission house 
 in New Orleans, who are the agents there 
 of the Spanish company. They wanted 
 to obtain papers permitting the ship to go 
 to the African coast ; just now everything 
 destined there is regarded with suspicion, 
 and the Spaniards wanted to go in ballast 
 to seek a cargo of palm-oil, camwood, and 
 any other merchandise offering. The 
 Custom-house authorities declined, for 
 various reasons, to issue the papers. In 
 the meantime, the ship had been loaded 
 with empty casks and a quantity of staves 
 in the rough from which to manufact- 
 ure other casks, if necessary. The ques- 
 tion of getting sufficient supplies of food 
 aboard was a very delicate one, for food 
 could not profitably be carried as freight 
 to that locality, and it was not required 
 in barter. Then the Spaniards proposed
 
 202 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 to equip her as a whaling-ship, with her 
 whaling-ground from Bermuda to the 
 Cape of Good Hope. This would per- 
 mit her occasionally to call on the African 
 coast for water and fresh food-supplies, 
 yet would require a much longer period 
 to complete the trip. Just at this time 
 the commission house heard of the pur- 
 pose of the McDonogh commissioners to 
 send the ex-slaves, via Baltimore, to Li- 
 beria. After considering the matter it was 
 determined to offer this ship as a means 
 of transportation at a very moderate price. 
 If they had dared to do so they would 
 have been willing to pay a handsome 
 premium ; the offer was accepted and 
 the date fixed. The Spaniards now had 
 a legitimate cargo for the African coast 
 and easily procured the necessary papers 
 for a trading point on the Congo River, 
 stopping at Liberia on the voyage out. I 
 can also tell you that your presence here 
 is not pleasant for Captain C , for he
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 20 3 
 
 had about determined to run down on the 
 south side of Cuba with these negroes, 
 leave them at a place he knows of, and 
 continue on the voyage. Now, this can- 
 not be done, unless you come into the 
 arrangement ; but I do not think he will 
 say anything to you about it. You are a 
 stranger and we are constantly in sight of 
 and speaking vessels, and it would be easy 
 for you to say a few words which might 
 spoil the entire expedition." 
 
 Next morning early, as we were taking 
 coffee on deck, the 
 captain, in a gen- 
 eral conversation, 
 remarked: "What 
 a valuable, lot of 
 negroes these are ; 
 all the men have 
 some trade or vo- 
 cation which makes 
 them most desira- 
 ble on any planta-
 
 204 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 tion. The women are all experienced in 
 their duties ; they would bring a round 
 sum in Cuba : and Cuba is very near, and 
 I know where they could be landed with- 
 out much risk." 
 
 I replied: "Captain, these negroes 
 must be landed at their destination in 
 Africa, and as long as I can, I will not 
 permit any change of programme." 
 
 As if to disarm me of any suspicion, he 
 said : " Of course, they must he landed 
 in Liberia, I was only regretting that so 
 much money is just thrown away." 
 
 During the mate's watch which fol- 
 lowed, he asked me what Captain C 
 
 had said to me and my reply ; for the 
 captain, on his return to the cabin, had 
 had a long and stormy conversation with 
 the Spanish gentleman, who would not 
 be persuaded that there was very little 
 risk in landing the negroes in Cuba, 
 whether the doctor consented or not 
 I repeated the conversation between the
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 205 
 
 captain and myself. The mate replied : 
 "Well, that matter is now decided, for 
 we are sailing southeast, instead of south- 
 west, and th#t means we will not stop at 
 Cuba this part of the trip. " Reassured at 
 this, I pressed him to tell me what he knew 
 of the voyage. 
 
 "Now," said he, "I am interested in 
 this ship's voyage as well as the others, 
 and you must pledge your word of honor 
 to say nothing to anyone about it." I as- 
 sented. "Well, this is my second voy- 
 age of this kind ; the first was from New 
 York to Africa and Brazil, and as slavery 
 will probably be abolished in Brazil, and 
 coolies are getting cheaper than negroes 
 in Cuba, this is probably the last slave- 
 ship; and if we are successful, we will 
 land the last cargo of slaves. To begin, 
 you must understand that there are neces- 
 sary, one person as head manager, and 
 three agents, each one with an assistant 
 to replace the principal in case of acci-
 
 2O6 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 dent, sickness, or death. The head re- 
 sides in Havana. One agent, with his as- 
 sistant, the Spanish captain and his friend, 
 on board with us, went to the United 
 States to purchase the fastest sailing-ves- 
 sel that money could buy, and he found, 
 in New Orleans, the Baltimore clipper- 
 ship Rebecca, near five hundred and fifty 
 tons, carrying sky-sails, studding-sails to 
 royal yards, and stay-sails to royals, with 
 a record of fourteen knots to windward, 
 sailing inside of four points from the wind. 
 She was fitted out with new sails, cord- 
 age, extra spars and yards, and a large 
 supply of material with which to make 
 other sails at sea, and to replace uncertain 
 stays, running rigging, etc. The Custom- 
 house officers seemed to be suspicious of 
 her, and watched everything connected 
 with the ship very closely. Just at this 
 time the offer to the McDonogh commis- 
 sioners was made to take the negroes as 
 passengers, and arrangements were com-
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 207 
 
 pleted. Now began the purchase in large 
 quantities of rice, white beans, pork, and 
 biscuit, which were ostensibly for our pas- 
 sengers. With a long hose all the casks 
 were filled with water from an opening 
 below the water-line in the ship's bow, a 
 supply of lumber was obtained, and bunks 
 constructed between decks the whole 
 length of the ship's hold, and for several 
 times the number of passengers expected ; 
 a large cooking-furnace was also built on 
 deck Another agent and his assistant " 
 sailed some months ago for the coast of 
 Africa, and has purchased and contracted 
 to carry on shares as many negroes as can 
 be stowed on board. The place where 
 they are to meet is known on board only 
 to the Spaniards ; another agent and his 
 assistant are established as fishermen on 
 an unfrequented island on the south side 
 of Cuba, I know that much. There, with 
 a companion or two, they fish for the 
 markets, so as to require a regular camp
 
 208 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 and a small vessel. They will be ready, 
 when we arrive, to inform us when and . 
 where to land the cargo. The head in 
 Havana keeps everything in working 
 order, and it is his particular business to 
 fee the customs officials and keep them 
 away from where they are not wanted. 
 One ounce of gold, seventeen dollars, per 
 head, is the fee he pays to the officials for 
 every negro landed, who divide among 
 themselves, according to previous ar- 
 rangements." 
 
 Life on board was a very pleasant one, 
 our ship splendidly provisioned with every 
 delicacy necessary to our comfort ; with 
 beautiful weather, our run in the Gulf 
 Stream was full of interest. We passed 
 south of Bermuda and entered the great 
 Saragossa sea with its boundless fields of 
 sea-weed. Each day experiments were 
 made, by changing size and character of 
 sails, to develop the greatest speed, and I
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 209 
 
 often wondered where they could possibly 
 put another yard of canvas. All the 
 masts were again examined and put to 
 their utmost strain ; new stays and pre- 
 venter-stays were added, until it was no 
 longer doubtful about the masts being 
 able to support any strain. We could 
 easily make three hundred and twenty to 
 three hundred and forty miles daily, run- 
 ning as close to windward as she could 
 sail. 
 
 [The original narrative continues to de- 
 scribe the voyage and safe arrival at 
 Monrovia, the capital of Liberia, where 
 the McDonogh freedmen were landed. 
 It has been thought advisable to abridge 
 this. Dr. Howe then proceeds with his 
 graphic story as follows :] 
 
 July 4th being observed as a "fete" 
 day, the officers and myself were invited 
 to dine with the President of the Repub-
 
 210 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 lie and his ministers. Accepting the in- 
 vitation, we landed on the beach, in front 
 of the native huts, made of bamboo and 
 thatched with straw when they had roofs ; 
 
 and ascending the cape by a tortuous 
 path, we met the only white man in the 
 republic, Rev. Mr. Evans, an Episcopal 
 missionary during thirty years and also 
 acting United States consul, under whose 
 care we were taken to the executive man- 
 sion, were introduced to, and welcomed 
 by President Benson; ex- President Rob- 
 erts, and the cabinet. 
 
 Before returning to the ship, the Rev. 
 Dr. Evans took me aside and told me he 
 was in considerable doubt as to the char-
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 2H 
 
 acter of our vessel ; that the Baltimore 
 ship had not arrived, and he had been 
 authorized by the government to tender 
 me as my home, during my stay await- 
 ing the Baltimore ship, the cutter lying in 
 the harbor, which had been presented by 
 Queen Victoria and was their only war 
 vessel. Thanking him for his kindness, I 
 told him I would consider the matter. 
 
 Reaching the ship, I told the officers 
 they were suspected. At once a council 
 was held and a demand made for the 
 landing next day of passengers and ef- 
 fects, as, so far, there had been no fixed 
 date determined upon. The English 
 gunboat had just returned to Monrovia 
 and was but a short distance from us, and 
 her company was not desired longer than 
 possible. This demand created some 
 surprise, as it was supposed we would be 
 several days longer getting supplies. 
 
 Next morning a fleet of sloops, canoes, 
 and yawls came alongside early. Just
 
 212 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 then the Spanish captain told me I could 
 go with the vessel as far as the Congo 
 River, where I might meet the mail 
 steamer. Thanking him, I accepted and 
 so informed the Rev. Mr. Evans. He 
 further told me he suspected Captain 
 
 C of treachery, for the return of the 
 
 cruiser looked like it By noon passen- 
 gers and effects were landed and the cap- 
 tain returned with the ship's papers, etc. 
 The anchor was hoisted and away we 
 went. The English cruiser followed with 
 steam and sail as long as he could see us ; 
 but we sailed twelve miles to his eight, 
 and before dark left him out of sight. 
 
 The Spanish captain now appeared on 
 deck, a short, swarthy, black-whiskered 
 man, with a cold, determined look, 
 dressed in open shirt with a large silk 
 handkerchief around his neck, white 
 trousers, with a large red sash wrapped 
 several times around his waist, a wide 
 soft hat a typical bandit His assistant
 
 214 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 followed in almost similar costume, and 
 went forward and rang the ship's bell ; 
 the crew was called to the after-deck, 
 
 where the Spanish Captain A thus 
 
 addressed them, in Spanish and English : 
 
 " Men, I am now the captain of this 
 ship ; this is my first mate," introducing his 
 assistant ; " the other subordinate officers 
 are retained in their positions : the late 
 captain and mate will be respected and 
 advised with. The object of this voyage 
 is a cargo of negroes to be purchased in 
 Africa and landed in Cuba ; the trip is 
 full of peril, but if successful, full of 
 money. If there is one of you who de- 
 sires to go ashore, the ship will stop at a 
 place where he can be safely landed, and 
 double wages to date given him." 
 
 All expressing themselves anxious to 
 sign new articles, the wages were de- 
 clared, if the voyage was successful, to 
 be : For American captain and first 
 mate, $5,000 each ; second mate, $3,500 ;
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 215 
 
 carpenter, $3,000; each sailor, $1,500. 
 Our crew numbered twenty-three, all 
 told, Turks, Greeks, Italians, Spaniards, 
 Scotch, Yankees, and Danes. 
 
 It was plain that the Spanish captain 
 did not trust Captain C , and al- 
 though they were courteous to each other, 
 there was an entire absence of familiarity. 
 The crew had the same feeling, and on 
 
 one occasion, while Captain C was 
 
 inspecting the rudder hinges and sus- 
 pended in a bow-line over the stern, the 
 sailor at the wheel took out his knife and 
 made a movement as if to sever the rope 
 and drop the captain into the sea. I saw 
 the movement and called the Spanish 
 captain's attention. He positively and 
 firmly forbade anything like an attempt 
 
 on the life of Captain C , unless it 
 
 was plain he intended treachery ; then 
 he would act, and promptly. 
 
 We were some weeks in advance of the 
 time for the arrival of our ship at a point
 
 2l6 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 agreed upon, where the first intelligence 
 could be had of the agents sent there 
 months before, and we sailed leisurely 
 along until one day's sail from Mayumba. 
 This portion of the coast was carefully 
 guarded by the United States, English, 
 Portuguese, and Spanish steam and sail- 
 ing vessels, so that in approaching the 
 coast there was considerable risk of be- 
 ing overhauled. Although our papers 
 were regular to a point on Congo River, 
 yet the vessel might have been seized as 
 suspicious, and subjected to a return to 
 Sierra Leone ; and there, the matter fully 
 investigated by a court organized to con- 
 demn and confiscate. 
 
 One day our movements were so regu- 
 lated that, by sailing all night toward the 
 coast, we would be, at daylight, fifteen 
 miles distant A yawl was then lowered, 
 and the Spanish captain with two sailors 
 entered it, provided with two days' sup- 
 plies and compass, and pulled away for
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 2IJ 
 
 land. We at once returned to sea, and 
 forty days after were to return to the 
 place where the Spanish captain had ex- 
 pected to land. We were now under the 
 control of the Spanish mate and put to 
 sea, four hundred miles from land, then 
 sailed back one day, and the next re- 
 turned to sea, for the entire period of 
 forty days, never coming within two hun- 
 dred miles of the shore. This was a very 
 quiet and uneventful cruise ; on two oc- 
 casions only did we see vessels, which 
 proved to be whalers whom we gave a 
 wide berth. 
 
 At daylight, on the morning of the for- 
 tieth day, we had approached the coast 
 near enough to see distinctly objects 
 along the shore. Yet, seeing no living 
 creature, we were evidently a little out 
 of the exact position, so sending a man 
 aloft, to be sure no vessel was in sight, 
 we ran along the coast a few miles, when 
 we saw a negro waving a large white flag,
 
 with a red cross its en- 
 tire length and width ; 
 this was the signal, and 
 in a short time we saw 
 several negroes drag- 
 ging our yawl to the 
 water from its place of 
 concealment. In an 
 
 hour, Captain A 
 
 was again on board. It 
 was plain that some- 
 thing had gone wrong ; 
 the agent and assistant 
 had arrived much later 
 than anticipated ; both had been ill with 
 African fever and were at a trading post 
 on Congo River, trying to get well. Brit- 
 ish cruisers had passed almost daily where 
 we were then, and could be expected at 
 any moment. A council was again held 
 in the cabin ; the ship put to sea, and it 
 was determined that, as our papers were 
 regular and permitted us to go to Congo
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 219 
 
 , River, we would proceed there at once 
 and there await events. 
 
 Long before we reached Congo River, 
 we saw the discoloration of the sea from 
 the muddy stream. Far at sea we met 
 floating islands of vegetation as much as 
 twenty feet square. Approaching the 
 river from the sea, there was on the left 
 an elevated plateau, at the base of which 
 the French Government had a station, 
 where negroes were apprenticed to em- 
 ployers in the French islands of the West 
 Indies, for a number of years, for a little 
 more than the Spaniards purchased them 
 outright. The apprentices did not get 
 the money, but the government agent, in 
 consideration of the money, obliged his 
 government to secure them a home, etc., 
 at the expiration of contract. A French 
 gun-boat lay at the station as we passed 
 by. 
 
 The river is irregular in width, from 
 two-thirds to one and a half mile, shallow,
 
 220 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 full of islands, with a very tortuous chan- 
 nel from side to side. We secured the 
 services of a pilot, a prince of one of the 
 Congo tribes near us, on the left bank as 
 you ascend. His costume was an old 
 military coat and a much dilapidated 
 Panama hat, his wrists and arms encir- 
 cled with thick silver rings and with a 
 multitude of others of a kind of fibre. 
 Short in stature, about five feet three or 
 four inches, fine regular features, as are 
 all of the Congoes, perfect teeth, hand- 
 somely developed limbs, and clean for a 
 negro. 
 
 Light winds and the strong current de- 
 layed our arrival at the trading station, 
 about seventy miles from the mouth, un- 
 til the next day. Arriving, we found a 
 boat with two white men in it ; one was 
 recognized as the agent's assistant, and 
 before they reached us, we were informed 
 that the agent had died of consumption 
 and African fever. The speaker was
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 slowly convalescing, and all trading op- 
 erations had been suspended until his 
 recovery or the ar- 
 rival oftheship. ^ .^ 
 His companion in 
 the boat was a 
 trader at whose post 
 he had found a 
 home. We were 
 now in for a delay 
 of some time, as 
 Spaniards move 
 slowly. We were 
 anchored about sev- 
 enty-five yards from 
 the shore or left bank 
 going up stream. 
 
 One day we saw 
 coming up the river 
 a man-of-war's long 
 boat, with an officer 
 
 and ten men ; they anchored almost im- 
 mediately under our bow, and there they
 
 222 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 remained as long as we were in the river ; 
 they were from the gun-boat Tigris and 
 had spoken the Vixen, which we learned 
 had gone farther south to look out for us. 
 The Tigris lay at the mouth of the river 
 to intercept us, if an attempt be made to 
 leave with a cargo of negroes. Again the 
 Spanish captain left us for many days. 
 It being necessary to replenish our store 
 of water, it was done with a hose through 
 the opening in the bow, without the boat's 
 crew knowing anything about it, although 
 but a few feet distant. 
 
 During this time I took several trips up 
 the river, going farther than any white 
 man had been known to ascend it, and 
 saw many tribes of negroes who had 
 heard of white men from the lower tribes, 
 but had never seen one, and was much of 
 a curiosity with my European clothing 
 and my white skin. 
 
 From the Spaniard with me I learned
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 223 
 
 that enough negroes had been purchased 
 and contracted for to be transported on 
 shares, to load our ship,* and that her de- 
 parture was only a question of when they 
 could be put on board without risk of 
 small-pox reappearing among them. The 
 negroes were then sent by easy marches 
 to a place half a day's journey from the 
 
 * From the factors I learned something about 
 the manner in which the slave trade was carried 
 on in Africa. A trader, Portuguese always, pro- 
 cured consent from a head of a strong tribe to 
 establish himself among them, and paid liberally 
 in presents for the privilege. Consent obtained, 
 a barracoon was at once built, and each member 
 of the tribe was a self-constituted guardian to 
 protect it ; a scale of prices was agreed upon for 
 negroes, according to age and sex, averaging 
 two fathoms or four yards of calico, one flint-lock 
 musket, one six-pound keg of coarse powder, 
 one two-gallon keg of rum, some beads and 
 brass wire ; an English value of about eight 
 dollars gold for each negro captured by this 
 tribe from neighboring and weaker ones. There 
 had been a lower rate of prices until within a few 
 years, when competition had slowly increased 
 them to present rates.
 
 224 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 sea-coast, where they would remain until 
 the time agreed upon to move to the 
 coast This last march to the coast was 
 always done at night, so that they had 
 ample time to arrive before daylight. 
 The ship was due at daylight, and if she 
 could not reach the coast at that hour, 
 the whole business was postponed gen- 
 erally one week, the negroes immediately 
 returned to the half-day station, rested, 
 and cared for. We returned to the ship 
 on the river, and found quiet preparations 
 being made to leave at a moment's no- 
 tice ; the officers purchasing goats, poul- 
 try, and fruit. 
 
 Captain A alone knew the locality 
 
 where the negroes would be met, and it 
 was impossible for any sailor to have 
 given information of value to the English 
 in their boat under our bow. 
 
 No opportunity had yet offered for my 
 return to America, and the ship was about
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 225 
 
 to sail. I could not make up my mind to 
 remain on Congo River, and risk African 
 fever for an indefinite period. The spirit 
 of adventure, considerable curiosity, and 
 great confidence in my good luck, prompt- 
 ed me to accept an invitation from the 
 Spanish captain to remain with the ship. 
 At this time we learned that a Portuguese 
 man-of-war had visited the mouth of the 
 river and, finding the English gun-boat 
 Vixen there, had gone on to the north. 
 This made things very much mixed, one 
 cruiser south, one at the river's mouth, 
 and one north, and the Portuguese was 
 the worst one of all. At that time, if a 
 vessel was captured with negroes on 
 board, they, and the ship with her officers, 
 were taken to Sierra Leone ; the sailors 
 being landed at or near the place of capt- 
 ure to look out for themselves. If the 
 ship had a flag and could be identified, 
 the officers were transferred at Sierra 
 Leone to their respective governments for
 
 226 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 trial, the negroes sent ashore, and an at- 
 tempt at colonization made, and the ship 
 sold and broken up ; but if no nationality 
 could be established, the officers were im- 
 prisoned for a term at Sierra Leone, with 
 or without civil trials. If the Portuguese 
 made a capture, every officer and sailor 
 was sent to their penal settlements, and 
 that was the last ever heard of them. 
 The American Government had the sail- 
 ing man-of-war Vincennes stationed near 
 us ; we did not wish to meet her, for she 
 was a fine sailer. 
 
 One morning, early, about October i, 
 1859, the anchor was raised and we sailed 
 down the river ; our papers yet protected 
 us, for we had ostensibly made an unsuc- 
 cessful mercantile venture, and were re- 
 turning home. We took the English yawl 
 in tow, and inviting the officer on board, 
 enjoyed a pleasant trip to the mouth of 
 the river, reaching there in the afternoon. 
 The gun-boat steamed alongside to get
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 227 
 
 her officer and learn our destination, and 
 being informed "United States," said: 
 "Oh! of course ! perhaps!" Our course 
 during the evening and night was north- 
 west, as if we were returning to the 
 United States. This was to get off shore 
 and ascertain the strength of the wind at 
 that season, at different distances, also to 
 see what speed we could make. At day- 
 light our course was shaped south, and all 
 hands employed in removing every trace 
 of name from bow, stern, and small boats. 
 The ship's side was painted all black we 
 had white ports before. Every paper or 
 scrap that could be found was, with our 
 American flag weighted and thrown over- 
 board. 
 
 " Now ! " said Captain A , " we have 
 
 no name, and no nationality ; we are no- 
 body and know nothing. If we are capt- 
 ured, every mouth must be sealed, in 
 that way only can we escape the severe 
 penalties."
 
 228 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 For four days and nights we cruised 
 about, keeping the distance of nearly one 
 hundred and fifty miles from land. On 
 the afternoon of the fourth day, having 
 taken accurate observations of our posi- 
 tion at sea, our course was shaped for the 
 coast ; every light was extinguished but 
 that of the binnacle, which was hooded so 
 that the man at the wheel could see the 
 compass and yet the light could not be 
 seen ; an extra watch was kept, and at 
 three o'clock next morning we were within 
 two miles of the shore, latitude 6 10' south, 
 previously agreed upon. So correct were 
 the chronometers, and the estimation of 
 wind and current, that there was no error 
 in our calculations, we could hear the 
 roar of the breakers, but there was not 
 light enough to see the shore. As it grew 
 lighter we could see the low shore-line, 
 which appeared to be broken into small 
 hillocks of sand sparsely covered with a 
 scrubby vegetation.
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 229 
 
 A number of small craft could be seen 
 outside the breakers, they resembled 
 oyster -boats. After a satisfactory scru- 
 
 tiny of the horizon with a glass from the 
 masthead, our signal, a large white flag 
 with a red cross, was hoisted, and as it 
 blew out was answered from the shore. 
 Very soon the beach seemed to swarm 
 with moving objects which we could not 
 yet distinguish. A number of long, black 
 objects left the shore, and, when through 
 the breakers, they stopped at the small 
 craft outside. Now we could see that the 
 negroes were being transferred to the 
 boats outside the breakers, from canoes, 
 which ran through them, with from four
 
 230 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 to six in each. As the sloops were filled 
 they sailed for the ship, and, ladders hav- 
 ing been arranged, the negroes were soon 
 coming over the ship's side ; as each one 
 reached the deck he was given a biscuit 
 and sent below. It seemed slow work at 
 first, but as the canoes were soon all 
 launched and rushing through the surf, it 
 presented a busy scene. The sloops were 
 now flying to and from us, and a great 
 number of negroes were already on board 
 at 2 P.M. 
 
 The lookout at the masthead shouted : 
 "Sail, ho! away to the southward." 
 From the deck we could see nothing. A 
 danger signal was hoisted at once to hur- 
 ry all aboard faster ; in a short while we 
 could see from the deck a little black spot. 
 Smoke ! A cruiser ! Another signal, a 
 blood-red flag, was hoisted, informing 
 those ashore of the kind of danger. If 
 possible the bustle ashore was increased ; 
 our own boats were lowered, and they
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 231 
 
 aided materially. The approaching ves- 
 sel had seen us and the volume of smoke 
 increased. She could now be seen, and 
 was recognized as the Vixen with the 
 naked eye. A signal from shore that a 
 very few remained was hoisted, another 
 hour passed, and the vessel was certainly 
 within three miles. Our boats were re- 
 called, and the entire fleet of sloops soon 
 sailed toward us. Our boats were hoisted, 
 and lines thrown to the sloops now along- 
 side. The Vixen now changed her course 
 slightly and fired a solid shot, which 
 passed to leeward of us, beyond. At this 
 the Spanish captain cried out : " Let go ! " 
 The pin holding the staple in the anchor- 
 chain was cut, and the chain parted. Sail 
 was hoisted rapidly, the negroes in the 
 sloops climbed over the ship's side, and 
 as the sloops were emptied they were cast 
 adrift with their single occupant, a Kroo- 
 man. They scattered like frightened 
 birds.
 
 "232 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 We seemed a long time getting head- 
 way, and everybody was looking very 
 anxious, as other sails were set ; studding- 
 sails were added, stay-sails hoisted, and a 
 large square sail on the mizzen-mast from 
 the deck to topsail such a cloud of can- 
 vas 'that I felt sure the masts would go 
 overboard. The Vixen was now within 
 one mile and she seemed to have wonder- 
 ful speed ; again she changed her course 
 and there followed a puff of smoke. That 
 was too close for comfort, I thought, as 
 the splashing sea showed where the ball 
 ricocheted, and so very near. We seemed 
 to have gained some in distance during 
 this manoeuvre, and the wind grew strong- 
 er the farther we got from land. A cloud 
 of black smoke showed that a grand effort 
 was being made by our pursuer to recover 
 the distance lost while changing her course 
 to fire at us. We were now easily going 
 ahead and the distance was greater be- 
 tween us, the wind so strong that we were
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 233 
 
 compelled to take in the lofty studding- 
 sails. Another hour, and it was getting 
 near night, with the cruiser at least five 
 miles astern, still holding on, hoping some- 
 thing would happen to disable us yet. 
 Night fell, but we continued our course 
 without change until midnight, when we 
 sailed south southwest until daylight, so 
 that if something should happen to our 
 masts, we should be far from the route 
 of our pursuer if he still followed us. 
 
 At daylight we were on a west by north 
 course, and the southeast trade-wind was 
 driving us along fourteen knots an hour. 
 Looking around, I found a number of 
 strange white men, Spaniards, represent- 
 ing the barracoon from which some of the 
 negroes were taken on shares ; one half 
 for the ship, the other half for the own- 
 er, whose representative would purchase 
 merchandise in the United States or Eng- 
 land, and ship to St. Paul de Loanda in 
 the mail steamer, and from there in small
 
 234 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 sloops to destination. Among the sail- 
 ors I found a number of strange faces, 
 the crew of a captured vessel previously 
 spoken of. They were glad to have a 
 chance to return. 
 
 During the embarkation I was engaged 
 separating those negroes who did not ap- 
 pear robust, or who had received some 
 trifling injury in getting on deck, and 
 sending them to an improvised hospital 
 made by bulkheading a space in the rear 
 of the forecastle. The others, as they ar- 
 rived, were stowed away by the Spanish 
 mate ; so that when all were aboard there 
 was just room for each to lie upon one 
 side. As no one knew what proportion 
 were men, all were herded together. The 
 next morning the separation took place ; 
 the women and girls were all sent on 
 deck, and numbered about four hundred. 
 Then a close bulkhead was built across 
 the ship and other bunks constructed. 
 The women were then sent below, and
 
 236 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 enough men sent up to enable the carpen- 
 ter to have room to construct additional 
 bunks. A more docile and easily man- 
 aged lot of creatures cannot be imagined. 
 No violence of any kind was necessary ; 
 it was sometimes difficult to make them 
 understand what was wanted ; but as 
 soon as they comprehended, immediate 
 compliance followed. 
 
 The negroes were now sent on deck 
 in groups of eight and squatted around 
 a large wooden platter, heaping-full of 
 cooked rice, beans, and pork cut into 
 small cubes. The platters were made by 
 cutting off the head of flour or other bar- 
 rels, leaving about four inches of the 
 staves. Each negro was given a wooden 
 spoon, which all on board had amused 
 themselves in making during our forty- 
 day trip. Barrel staves were sawed into 
 lengths of eight inches, split into other 
 pieces one and a half inch wide, and then 
 shaped into a spoon with our pocket-
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 
 
 237 
 
 knives. It was surprising what good 
 spoons could be made in that manner. 
 A piece of rope-yarn tied to a spoon and 
 hung around the neck was the way in 
 which every individual retained his prop- 
 erty. There not being 
 room on deck for the en- 
 tire cargo to feed at one 
 time, platters were sent 
 between decks, so that 
 all ate at one hour, three 
 times daily. Casks of 
 water were placed in 
 convenient places, and 
 an abundant supply fur- 
 nished day and night. 
 When night came they 
 were stowed in their new quarters, the men 
 amidships, the women in the apartment 
 bulkheaded from the men aft, the hospi- 
 tal forward. Looking down through the 
 hatches they were seen like sardines in 
 a box, on the floor and in the bunks, as
 
 233 
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 close as they could be crowded. Large 
 wind-sails furnished a supply of fresh air, 
 and the open hatches sufficient ventila- 
 tion. 
 
 A muster was made the 
 next day to verify the lists 
 held by each party repre- 
 sented. I was curious to 
 know how each owner could 
 single out his property 
 among so many that did not 
 present any distinguishing 
 peculiarities. I discovered 
 that each factor had a dis- 
 tinguishing brand ; some a 
 letter, others a geometrical 
 figure ; and every negro was 
 branded with a hot iron on 
 the left shoulder, a few days before ship- 
 ment, by his owner or representative. 
 They were all young, none less than 
 twelve or fourteen, and none appearing 
 over thirty years. Their contentment that
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 239 
 
 day surprised me. They numbered, all 
 told, near twelve hundred. 
 
 Captain A then selected about 
 
 twenty of the strong men and clothed 
 them with a sack which had holes cut in 
 it for head and arms ; these men were 
 called Camisas (shirts), and were required 
 to do the scrubbing and cleaning between 
 decks, etc., and given daily a small allow- 
 ance of rum. The women were divided 
 into squads and sent on the after-deck for 
 an hour for each squad. This changing 
 kept iip until night ; the men were con- 
 fined to the main-deck between cabin 
 and forecastle, and sent in squads of as 
 many as could get on deck at once. As 
 they came up on the first trip, each morn- 
 ing, every one plunged into casks of salt 
 water and ran about until dry. 
 
 Notwithstanding their apparent good 
 health, each morning three or four dead 
 would be found, brought upon deck, 
 taken by arms and heels, and tossed over-
 
 240 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 board as unceremoniously as an empty 
 bottle. Of what did they die ? and al- 
 ways at night ? In the barracoons it was 
 known that if a negro was not amused 
 and kept in motion, he would mope, 
 squat down with his chin on his knees 
 and arms clasped about his legs, and in 
 a very short time die. Among civilized 
 races it is thought impossible to hold 
 one's breath until death follows ; it is 
 thought the Africans can do so. They had 
 no means of concealing anything, and 
 certainly did not kill each other. The 
 duties of the Camisas were also to look 
 after the other negroes during the day, 
 and when found sitting with knees up 
 and head drooping, the Camisas would 
 start them up, run them about the deck, 
 give them a small ration of rum, and di- 
 vert them until in a normal condition. 
 The slaves fraternized as if belonging to 
 the same tribe, and I do not recall a single 
 instance of an altercation.
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 24! 
 
 We were now near the end of October 
 and rapidly approaching the Caribbee Isl- 
 ands. Maps were examined, and, after 
 some discussion, it was thought safest to 
 run between the French islands of Mar- 
 tinique and Dominique, and our course 
 was shaped for the fifteenth degree of 
 latitude, being midway. One morning 
 the mountains of each could be seen, and 
 as we passed between the islands, they 
 appeared about twelve miles distant. 
 Thus far we had not met a sail, and in 
 passing, although at considerable dis- 
 tance, sent all the negroes below, that we 
 might appear to be an ordinary mer- 
 chantman. We kept about one hundred 
 miles south of Porto Rico, San Domingo, 
 and Hayti, until we were near the ex- 
 treme western end of Hayti. Our route 
 was now between Hayti and Jamaica, as 
 it was thought the winds would hold bet- 
 ter than going to the south of Jamaica. 
 While about midway, the lookout discov-
 
 242 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ered a steamer far to the westward, and 
 as its course was not yet known, we 
 shortened such sail as could be done 
 without discovery and waited. After half 
 an hour it was seen that the steamer's 
 course was almost east, and would inter- 
 cept us. We slightly changed our course 
 that we might pass behind, and sent all 
 the negroes below as well as the greater 
 part of the white men. We desired to 
 pass so far distant that the absence of a 
 name on our bow would not be noticed. 
 The steamer was very slow, and was 
 thought to be the English mail steamer 
 from Kingston, touching at Hayti and San 
 Domingo. She passed about five miles dis- 
 tant, and we breathed freely after her dis- 
 appearance, then all sail was again made, 
 the negroes sent on deck, and an extra bis- 
 cuit given each one as a thank-offering. 
 
 We were soon north of Jamaica, but 
 there was a dangerous place which wor- 
 ried us greatly, Cape de Cruz, the ex-
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 243 
 
 treme southern point of Cuba, and on the 
 eastern end Our course was now north- 
 west. Vessels from the United States ap- 
 proach very closely, thereby saving dis- 
 tance to Trinidad, a prominent port on 
 the south side of Cuba, where sugar and 
 molasses are largely exported. We knew 
 that an American cruiser was stationed 
 here to intercept slavers, and we did not 
 wish to run a race with her. The speed 
 of our ship was so governed that we 
 could run by the dreaded locality late at 
 night and at a considerable distance, 
 about fifty miles. To do so we put on all 
 the sail which could be safely carried. 
 
 I now for the first time learned our des- 
 tination : Take a map of Cuba and you 
 will see, south-southeast of Puerto Prin- 
 cipe a chain of six little islands running 
 parallel with the island of Cuba, and 
 about twenty-five or thirty miles distant. 
 The second one from the western end is 
 the largest ; it has a scrubby growth of
 
 244 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 mangrove bushes about eight feet high, a 
 few cocoanut-trees, and a most valuable 
 spring of fresh water. It is less than a 
 mile wide and nearly three miles long, of 
 coral formation, but a few feet above the 
 level of the sea. 
 
 It was necessary that our approach be 
 after mid-day, so that the negroes could 
 be discharged and the vessel disposed of 
 before dark. By burning it at night the 
 light would have attracted greater atten- 
 tion than in the day, and during the day 
 it might have been supposed some brush 
 was burning ashore. The place was a 
 regular highway for all vessels approach- 
 ing and leaving the south of Cuba. 
 
 November 3d, we were but fifty miles 
 distant at daylight, with light winds, mak- 
 ing about eight miles an hour. About ten 
 o'clock, some few miles ahead of us, we 
 saw an American bark bound in the same 
 direction. It never would have done to 
 approach her near enough to be spoken,
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 245 
 
 for the captain would, in all probability, 
 have invited himself aboard to have a chat 
 for an hour or two. We could not shorten 
 sail, for it would have attracted attention, 
 the more so as her canvas had been re- 
 duced to enable us the sooner to overhaul 
 
 her. What could we do ? Captain A 
 
 called the carpenter, who, with the assist- 
 ance of the crew, brought on deck two 
 large water-casks. The head of each was 
 removed, ropes secured to the rim, and 
 lowered astern, so that they would drag 
 with the open end toward the ship; as 
 soon as the ropes tightened our speed was 
 reduced so much that the bark rapidly 
 drew ahead, and in an hour could not see 
 what we were doing. 
 
 It was now mid-day, and the chain of 
 islands was in sight. We had calculated 
 very closely the position of the one we 
 were seeking ; but our casks retarded our 
 speed so that we would reach it later than 
 we expected. At mid-day another obser-
 
 246 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 vation was taken and our island located 
 exactly about fifteen miles distant. As 
 we approached it our signal flag the 
 large white one with a red cross was 
 hoisted to the top of the main-mast. Some 
 time elapsed and no sign of any living 
 creature on the island. We were more 
 than six weeks behind the most liberal es- 
 timate of time, and our Spaniards began 
 to fear that those assigned to meet us here 
 had given up all hopes of a successful voy- 
 age and had gone to the main-land. Just 
 as the gloomiest views seemed to be about 
 realized, we saw two men running through 
 the thin undergrowth to the water's edge, 
 waving their hats and gesticulating wildly. 
 A shout of recognition was the return sa- 
 lute. The ship was sailed to within half a 
 mile, and in fourteen fathoms of water, 
 and anchored. The four boats were low- 
 ered in a hurry and the landing of the 
 negroes began. It was wonderful how 
 many could be gotten into a yawl in the
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 247 
 
 quiet sea. More than two hours were 
 needed to land all of them, and a suf- 
 ficient number of large sails for shelter 
 and food supplies. 
 
 The carpenter had been sent below to 
 scuttle the ship ; all the combustible ma- 
 terial aboard was collected in the fore- 
 castle, between decks, and in the cabin, 
 liberally saturated with oil, turpentine, 
 and paint, and as the last of us left the 
 ship the match was applied to each heap, 
 and before we were ashore she was on fire 
 from stem to stern. The rigging soon 
 burned and the upper masts fell one after 
 the other, still held to the ship by the 
 heavy stays. She gradually sank, and be- 
 fore an hour there was nothing on the sea 
 left to indicate a ship's destruction. 
 
 As the negroes were landed they were 
 hurried back far enough to be out of sight 
 of any passing vessel, the scanty growth 
 of mangrove affording ample hiding. Af- 
 ter dark the sails were so spread and se-
 
 248 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 cured as to shelter the negroes from the 
 dews, which were cold after the warm 
 days : these tents were taken down before 
 daylight, as they could have been seen by 
 a passing vessel. Great was the joy of the 
 Spaniards at being ashore in a place of 
 security, for they felt tranquil about the 
 part yet to come. Immediately after all 
 were ashore the fishing sloop was de- 
 spatched to the main-land with intelligence 
 of our arrival, and during its absence I 
 explored the island. I found it of coral 
 formation and covered with thin soil and 
 very little grass. Except the mangrove 
 bushes there were no others but about a 
 dozen cocoanut-trees, stunted in growth 
 but with a good supply of fruit yet green, 
 and highly esteemed as a delicacy. 
 
 The stay on the island was delightful, 
 the waters furnishing us with a great many 
 varieties of fish, which were appreciated. 
 The joy of the negroes was great at being 
 ashore, and so bountifully supplied with
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 249 
 
 food and water. Each day vessels passed, 
 and some of them so near that we feared 
 they would discover the island's secret. 
 
 Before the sloop left us there was con- 
 siderable discussion among the sailors 
 about their pay, they wishing to be paid 
 before the negroes were sent to the main- 
 land, and the Spaniards desiring that the 
 remaining risks should be shared by all 
 alike and all paid at the final destination. 
 The matter was compromised by the 
 Spaniards agreeing to pay those who de- 
 manded it ; but that their protection ended 
 there, and those paid would remain on the 
 island until they were sent for after our 
 arrival. Four days after the sloop left, 
 two small schooners arrived bringing the 
 money for those who demanded it, and 
 they were paid in Spanish doubloons. The 
 negroes were now transferred to the two 
 schooners, and although they had ap- 
 peared closely packed in the ship they 
 were now jammed together in the hold, as
 
 250 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 none could be allowed on deck. The of- 
 ficers were divided, and were permitted to 
 remain on deck in the little space that 
 could be found. 
 
 We now left for Trinidad, about sev- 
 enty-five miles distant, and before dark 
 sailed right into the harbor amid a fleet of 
 vessels. We were met by a custom-house 
 boat and told where to anchor, and did so, 
 less than one hundred yards from an 
 American bark, which seemed to be our 
 late would-be acquaintance. Our schoon- 
 ers had the appearance of ordinary coast- 
 ers and did not attract any attention. At 
 ten o'clock that night we saw a bright light 
 on the beach at the extreme east end of 
 the harbor, and we sailed for it Arriv- 
 ing we were informed that arrangements 
 were not complete for transportation, and 
 could not be before next night. We re- 
 turned to our anchorage and kept busy all 
 night distributing biscuits and water to 
 the negroes, who were hungry and restless.
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 251 
 
 The night air was cold, and to keep warm 
 I stood in the open hatch with my chin on 
 a level with the deck, keeping my body in 
 the warm air below while I breathed pure 
 air ; to go below and remain a few min- 
 utes was terrible. I feared some of the 
 negroes would die in such an impure at- 
 mosphere. 
 
 Morning came slowly, and again every 
 care was taken not to betray in any way 
 our character. Sail after sail passed us 
 coming and going. What a long day ! 
 The city of Trinidad, starting from the 
 beach, rises to quite a height; the old- 
 fashioned houses and irregular streets had 
 very little interest, as we tired our eyes 
 trying to find something which could pos- 
 sibly relieve the monotony and sense of 
 great danger we felt. My patience was 
 exhausted long before dark. At last the 
 sun went down, the air became cool, and 
 night again obscured everything. At ten 
 o'clock the light reappeared and we sailed
 
 252 
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 for it, showing a single lantern, which was 
 extinguished as we approached. The 
 sloop ran ashore in about two feet of 
 water, and the negroes hurried ashore 
 without noise, wading. 
 
 I saw in the darkness a long line of 
 wagons, two- wheeled, with an open frame 
 of poles and cords extending around the 
 body of the wagon about three feet high. 
 The women and youngest negroes were 
 put in the wagons, the framework sup- 
 porting them from falling and enabling 
 many more to crowd in. The wagons 
 started, the negro men following us on 
 foot 
 
 The route led over a mountainous 
 country, through coffee plantations, into 
 the interior. The travelling was slow for 
 some time. We at last descended to a 
 plain and moved along very lively, reach- 
 ing, at 7 A.M., the plantation of Don S. 
 
 B , which was our final destination, 
 
 nearly twenty-three miles from the coast ;
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 253 
 
 here we halted. The negroes were sent 
 to an inclosure to be fed and rested, the 
 officers were escorted to the residence of 
 the proprietor, where we had a bath, 
 change of clothing, a good breakfast, and 
 felt greatly refreshed. 
 
 We were seated on the veranda of the 
 residence, smoking, when there arrived a 
 Catholic priest and an assistant, who 
 passed on to the inclosure. Shortly after 
 came a wagon filled with clothing, and 
 being curious to witness anything else 
 connected with the negroes I followed. 
 Inside the inclosure the negroes were 
 drawn up in rows. Their brands were 
 examined and they were separated into 
 lots representing each mark. The priest, 
 assisted by his young man, passed along 
 in front, the young man registering the 
 name the priest had given each, as they 
 were baptized. As the priest finished one 
 lot they were at once furnished, the wom- 
 en with a sort of loose gown of coarse cot-
 
 254 
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 ton-cloth, and the men with a long shirt, 
 and then sent off in different directions. 
 Dinner being called we returned to the 
 residence. After dinner I returned to the 
 inclosure, but there was not a negro 
 there, and visiting the fields with the pro- 
 prietor I did not see one that I thought 
 had made the voyage with us. Don S. 
 
 B said that there were but twenty-five 
 
 of the new arrivals on his plantation, the 
 others having been delivered to the plant- 
 ers who had already contracted for them, 
 paying $350 for each. We were guests 
 
 of Don S. B four days, and were very 
 
 hospitably entertained. 
 
 [Dr. Howe then describes the difficul- 
 ties of getting away from Cuba without a 
 passport, and concludes with his arrival in 
 New Orleans.] 
 
 We were again in New Orleans. After 
 a hurried inspection of my baggage, I
 
 THE LAST SLAVE-SHIP 255 
 
 jumped into a cab, and passing by the 
 telegraph office sent the following mes- 
 sage to my parents in Natchez, Miss.-. 
 " Just returned from the coast of Africa, 
 safe and well." Continuing to the Med- 
 ical College I met Professor Howard 
 Smith, whose joy at my return was near- 
 ly as great as mine. With him I visited 
 the McDonogh Commissioners and relat- 
 ed the history of the voyage to Liberia, 
 and, as they asked no questions about 
 the rest of the trip, I did not say more 
 than, it being impossible to return as 
 had been promised me, I had been 
 obliged to make a very lengthy and 
 troublesome trip along the African coast 
 until I had an opportunity to return via 
 Jamaica and Cuba. 
 
 Thirty years have elapsed,* and nearly 
 all of those connected with that voyage 
 must ere this have gone to their last rest. 
 
 * Written in 1890. The author, Dr. Howe, has 
 since died.
 
 256 
 
 STORIES OF THE SEA 
 
 I have never seen one of them since, and 
 do not feel that I now violate any confi- 
 dence in relating the history of the voy- 
 age of The Last Slave-ship.
 
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