The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 28, 1897, Page 18

18 ) \ -l Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. ONTAGUE VANDERHOLT, a retired Cape merchant, widowed and with n only daughter, upon the advice of his physician, detefmined to take MY « crutse to the equator and back to London 1n his schooner yacht, the Mowbray. He engaged s Captain Glew to command the vessel and placed the matter of selecting the crew and purchasing the stores for the men in the fore_ castle in his hands. In December. 1848, Mr. Vanderholt and his daughter set sai{ from London for their winter's cruise. On the fifth day of the voyage Captain Glew acknowledged to Mr. Vanderholt that there was dissatisfaction among mem- bers of the crew on account of the quality of the meals served them. All that night there were mutineus muiterings among members of the watch. At the crew’s dinner hour the next.day the sailors, led by the second mate, James Jones, mutinied. They sent the kids containing their despised food flying toward the quarterdeck where Mr. Vanderholt and his daughter and Caprain Glew were con- gregated. Glew, with the assistance of the first mate, Tweed, attempted 1o piace Jones, the leader of the mutiny, in irons. The remainder of the crew started to rush to their leader’s aid, but were stopped by Vanderholt, who, with pistol in hand, declared thet he would kill the first man who interfered with the captain. Daring the threatening pistol, Simon Toole, an Irish sailor, rushed into the melee and stabbed the captain. Atthe same time Vanderholt fired, but the bullet killed Mate Tweed instead of Toole, for whom it was intended. Then a satlor named Maul killed Vanderholt with a belaying pin. All these horrible events transpired before the horrified eyes of the dsughter of the owner of the ship, who found her- self in agonizing helplessness with her dead at sea in a yessel mannea by half drunken, murderous madmen, s CHAPTER VI—CoxNTINUED. In a few minutes the two bodies made their last plunge amid the silence of the seamen. Some of whom, nevertheless, continued to smoke, and the bubbles which flashed to the surface were as lasting a memorial of the dead twain’s resting place as any gravestone which could have been erected ashore for dogs to smell to. A light air from the southwest was coming over the burnished heave in a delicate blue film, with feelers and crawlers of the draught tarnishing the water in front of the breeze line in catspaws. “Shall we stick this vessel’s bead north?’’ said the toatswain,and now all hands came together in the gangway, close beside the bulwark rail, whence the bodies had s ped; there was to be a discussion over every sug- gestion. “If we go north, where's it to carry us to?’ said Gordon. +“Qut of this heat, anyhow,” answered the boatswain. “We ought to make up vur minds,” said the cook, with an uneasy look at the sea. *We’re just that sort of craft which is sure to excite notice. “Hallo,” they sings out, ‘a yacht all this way down here!’ and they comes sheering alongside to hail and take a look.” “I'm not for going any further to the south’ard,” said the boatswain doggedly. After a great deal of talk, during which the galley was repeatedly visitea for pipe lights, they agreed to head the vessel north, if for no other reason than that of temperature. So the helm was put hard up and the little vessel wore. When the ropes had been coiled down and the decks cleared the boatswain called Gordon and Scott (who by this hour was re- lieved at the helm). These two men seemed the mosi respectable of the clan—perhaps the fittest for the mission the boatswain had now in his mind. “Mates,” suid he, dropping his words between hard sucks at an inch of sooty pipe, *there’s a difficulty in the cabin that's got to be made an end of. The Dutchman must be buried. Now the three of us had better go below with sailcloth and twine and stitch him up to the satisfaction of bis daughter, I'd give this hand,” said he, holding up a paw as bigasa boxing-glove, “if he hadn’t been killed. He had meant to get his dinner off our junk and pork to-day. It was the captain kept him inignorance of our condition.™ “He’d haveshot as many of us as there was balis is his pistol,” said Scott. “You're right,” said the boatswain, as though he found something to rally him in that thought. *Let’s get what’s wanted, my lads, and make an end.’” € The dead was alone when they entered the cabin. The ghastly hus of the blow that had killed him was fading. One hand lay upon his brow and he seemed in thought. “Quick, now,” says the boatswain, “while the lady’s out of sight.” They emptied his pockets, putting everything they found upon the table, then quickly fell to swathing and stitching. In the midst of this work Gordon violently started and cried out, muttering *Gor! how she took me!"” Miss Vanderholt stood near him. She was painfully white, and her eyes were swollen almost to concealment. Yet any one capable of interpreting human expression must have found a subtle token of resolution in her features, shadowy marks of firmness, as though the countenance was struggling to take its presentment from the spirit. This might be visible sooner to the eye of sympathy than to the vision of the head. _“Are you going to bury him?" she exclaimed in alow, trembling voice. “Yes, Miss,” said the boatswain, rearing himself and backing and looking at her. *Is there no one who can read a prayer from the service over him?" said the girl. The men looked at one another, shaking their heads, and then the boatswain said: “Tell ‘e what, lads, we'll stitch the poor gentleman up ready and leave him a bit, while the lady says a prayer by bis side. It’'ll do him more good than any prayer that’s a-going to come from us, ‘whether we reads it or whether we imagines it.” Miss Vanderholt took a step to her father and kissed him, then, weep- ing silently, went to the foremost end of the cabin and stood waiting. CHAPTER V. CAPTAIN PARBY. On the night of December 20, in the same year of the mutiny of the Mowbray, a large full-rigged ship homeward bound was on the north of the equator stealing silently through the ausk. The hour was about 9:30, ‘The moon rode high and shone gloricusly, and the edge of the plain ocean came in two sweeps of ebony to the clasp of splendor under the satellite. The ship lifted & cloud of sail tc the stars. The night wind was lightly breathing and every cloth was sleep, stirle: labaster moldings, curving from each yardarm and clim~ing with the whiteness of the moon into three spires. This ship was the Alfred, but no?r.ho famous Thames £ast Indiaman of that name. Ske was about 1600 tfns, with an abundant crew, a cap- tain and four mates. She was carryjag a valuable cargo and a number of passengers from India to Londonfand once only had she halted, a Bimons Bay where she put a lieuttnant of marines and filteen men ashore, and then proceeded, ater fildng up with fresh water. She was at flush-deck ship, and when you stood:at the wheel your eye ran along a ‘spacious length of deck, rounding w'th the exquisite art of the shipwright into flaring bows, which sank into the true clipper lines high above the keen and coppered forefoot. § A number of ladies and gentlemén sat and moved/About the decks. ‘The awnings were furied and the mconshine glistened upun these people and sparkled in the jewelry of ladiey and silvered the whiskers of gentle- THE -SAN.. FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MARCH 28, 1897. { THE SEA (587 BY CLARK RUSSELL+ men. On the weather side of the long quarterdeck walked the com- mander of the ship, Captain Barrington. A lady’s hand was tucked under his arm, and he frequently looked to windward while he talked. To leeward paced the maie, and a little distance forward, in the deep shadow of the main rigging, stood a group of midshipmen. Right aft upon the taffrail sat three gentlemen. One smoked a pipe, the others cheroots. Captain Barrington permitted his guests, as he, with facetious politeness, callea his passengers, to smoke upon the quarterdeck after five bells in the first watch. A considerable surface of grating stretched betwixt these three gentlemen and the wheel. The wheel was something forward of the grating, and the helmsman, there- fore, absorbed in the business of keeping the ship to her course, conld hear little more than the rumble of the tones of the gentiemen who con- versed on the taffrail. I say, Parry,” said one of the gentlemen, who was indeed no less a personage than the surgeon of the ship, casting his eyes up at the moon and tasting his tobacco with slow enjoyment in the discharge of each Iittle cloud of it, *‘did it ever occur to you to consider that all the great processes of this world—that all creation in short—is based on circles?"” “Why do you address yourself to me?” asked Captain Parry. “What do I know about circles?” “Behold yonder moon,” continued the doctor pointing to the stem of his pipe to the luminary beautiful with her greenish tinge so marvelously clear that you might then realize if you never did before the miracle of her self-poised flight through the domain of violet ether. “*She isa circle,’’ sald the doctor. *‘So is the sun. So are the stars. The flight of our system through space, if not a circle, is nearly so—enough to justify my theory that when the great hand launched creation the design was one of circles.” “Oh, blow that,” said one of the gentlemen. ‘Patry, hand us a che- root.” “The breeze seems scanting,” said Captain Parry, “If this voyage goes on lasting I shall be like the sailor who, when he was washed ashore on a desert island in his shirt, complained that he certainly did feel the want of a few necessaries.” “ “A man going home to get married ought not to .be becalmed,” said the doctor. “How do you like the idea of being married?” sald the third gentle- men, who was one Lieutenant Piercy. Captain Parry viewed the béautiful moon in silence. “Until I got married myself,” said the doctor, “I used to express mar- riage by what I consider an excellent image. A man marrying is like unto a ship that grounds on & bar and beats over, where she lies, unable to get out; so other ships passing behold her riding, royai-yards across and the bar thick under the bows.” Captain Parry continued to view the moon. “A man for comfort,” said Piercy, “should marry & roomy woman— “Talking of ghosts,” said the doctor, ‘‘what do you say, gentle: to this peychological tonch? A young man, call him Brown, after years of aeliberation, seriously considers that he bas baen born into the wrong family. He is wholly out of sympathy with hls relations. He is superior to them.. He loves music, the fine arts, literature and so on. His sisters are commonplace; his fatker drops his b's. The young man, feeliug con- vinced that a serious mistake has happened, goes forth to look out for his own family. He finds them at last, a cultivated circle of people, and they all seem to know that he belongs to them. Strangely enough, young Brown meets in this family with one ot the sons, a young feilow of his own age—csll him Jones. Jones laments to Brown that he is entirely out of sympathy with nis family. They are superior to bim. He likes vuigar sonss, the music-hali, the diverting company of hostlers and billiard- makers. He objects to young ladies. He prefers shopgirls. The point is clear,” said the doctor. ‘‘Thése youngz men were born into the wrong families. Brown hinted to Jones that he would meet with the right par- ties at the Browns’, and Jones was received by the Browas with tihat in. stinetive percention of his claims as 8 member of the family which cbzi- acterized the meeting between Prown and the Joneses.” Here the chief officer came right aft.and looked into the binnaole. As the cheeks are sucked in, so the sails hollowed to the sudden empti- ness of the atmosphere along with the slight floating roll of the whole fabric. A low thunder fore and aft broke from the masts. “I'm slck of that noise,” exclaimed Lieutenant Piercy. *‘The cock- roaches dance to it. The kitchen offal that the cook threw overboard yes- terday aelights in it and dwells alongside a loving listener. I say, Mr- Mulready,’” he called to the mate, ‘‘when are you going togive us a whole gale over the taffrail, something that shall come roaring down upon the ship in a cloudless thunder of wind 2" “Ha, sir, when?”’ answered the mate, a dry man. Captain Parry, with a slight yawn, stood up, stretched his arms: stepped across the grating and sprang upon the deck, then stood looking over the bulwark rail at the distant icy gleam on the bow. “The heat seems to have baked the life out of Parry,” said Lieutenant Plercy, “‘or is it that his spirits sink as he approaches home, knowing what lies before him ?”’ “A man should feel himself a poor creature,” exclaimed the doctor, “when he understands that a fit of despondency, a mood of unspeakable depression, reaching even unto tears, may be caused not by the affec- tions—oh, no—but by a little piece of celery or half a pickled walnut.” +I am thirsty,” said Piercy. “Come below, doctor, and have a drink.” Four bells were struck. The ladies disappeared. Five bells, then most of the gentlemen vanished. BSix bells, and now the ship seemed clothed in sleep and silence. At intervals faint catspaws stirred, none of which was neglected by the mate of the watch, who, regardiess of ithe smothered curses of the seamen, hoarsely roared orders for the braces to be manned. Thus stealthily the ship floated through that midnight sea flooded with moonshine. Then came the dawn, the resurrection of the day, trailing its ghastly shroud across the face of the eastern sky. The watch of the mute came round again st eight bells (4 o’clock), and when the day broke it found him on the deck standing at the rail and peering ahead. “Bring me the glass,” said he to a midshipman. Some three points on the bow of the ship lay a schooner. She had all cloths showing, saving her little topgallant sail and royal. She was cer- tainly not under command, and yet did not seem derelict. Mr. Mulready Jeveled the ship’s glass. What was she? Scarcely a yacht, yet of yacht- like finish and delicacy. The faint breeze trembled in her moon-white canvas. She lay head to wind, and the long pulse of the ocean swell, in lifting and sinking her, exposed her sheatbing ip flashes and submitted to the eye of Mr. Mulready the handsomest sea-going model he bad ever looked at. Something wrong there, thought he, carefully covering her with bis glass and intently examining ber for any signs of life, for smoke in the caboose chimney, for a head peering in sickness over the bulwark rail. About s mile and a half separated the two vessels, and it had taken the Alfred nearly the night long to measure the space betwixt the gleam over the bows and the spot of waters whence it had first been sighted by Cap- tain Parry. Some Three Points on the Bow of the Ship Lay a Schooner, All Her Sails Showing. you know what I mean, & woman who'll give him plenty of geographical andintellectual room to movein. He'sstill contained in her, d’ye see, still in sympathy, still ‘sacramentally one, yet be's got plenty of room,’” he drawled. *“I remember some idiots who berthed a number of horses on board ship, and allowed no room for the toss of their heads, IVs room that a chap wants in marriage.” “Isn’t that something white ahead there?” said Parry, pointing into the starry visionary distance right over the bow. Ths others seemed to look. “Bomething white should be a ghost,” said Piercy. ghosts walk the sea as they do the churchyards?’ “The most terrifying ghost that, to my mind, ever appesred,' said the doctor, “must have been the spirit of the Prince of Saxony. He came in complete steel, suddenly. upon his unhappy relative, who had idly pro- nounced bis name, and said: ‘Karl, Karl, was wollst du mit mich?’ It lerman or the idea of a ghost asking what you want with him that makes this question awful?"’ *The worst of all ghosts,” said Captain Parry, who had been strain- ing Eh eyes at the elusive shead, “‘ate the phantasies of the sick eye.! *“Right,” said the doctor. “When I was ill some years ago, in Indis, I had been reading Bo:* well's ‘Life of Johnson,' and every night ata oertain hour thy Dr. Johnson would sit upon the mantelpiece and play the spine the old cock hadn’t anote of music in his soul. His head wagged like a simmering caulifiower. I wasin a mortal fank while he played, but was too weak to throw anything at him. When the vision first appeared I thought it might have been a large bottle. The mantelpiece was cleared, and still old Sam came and played upon the spinet for five nighis running.” *The most inconvenisnt of all ghosts is the living ghoat,” said Lieu. tenant Piercy. “An Irish sergeant told me that before he left Ireland he sent an uncle five pounds. On returning, after fourteen years, he called upon his uncle and asked him for the money. ‘Och, sure,’ said the man, ‘haven’t I. spent the double of it in masses for yez ? 5 N “I wonder If 4 The chief mate could do nothing without the captain, but while the crew were washing down the decks, often pausing for a breath or two in their scrubbing to glance at the graceful, helpless, lonely fabric that was now drawing abeam, Captain Barrington stepped through the companion hatch, Hissight immediately went to the schooner. +“What vessel have we there?’ he exclaimed, and he picked up the telescope that Iay upon the skylight. “She is abandoned, sir,” said he to his chief mate. “She looks 100 beautifal for ill luck,” answered the mate.. 'The man who molded her knew his art.” “What's she doing all this way down bere?"* said Captain Barrington, talking with the telescope at his eye. “She’s s gentleman’s pleasure boat. Has she been sacked and her crew and her pleasure party mur- dered? Brace the f peail aback. I'il send a boat aboard.” The ship came to a stand with a lazy sigh of the light breeze in her canvas, the yards of the fore creaking on parrel and trussas they came round to the drag of hauling sailors. A boat was manned, lowered and dispatched in charge of the third officer, an intelligent young gentleman of the name of Blundell, “Thoroughly overbaul her,” the captain bad said. ‘‘If she isderelict bring away the logbook and papers,”” and ss the boat swept toward the schooner the skipper turned to Mr. Mulready and exclalmed: - “If she be abandoned 1'll put a crew aboard, snd we'll sail home to- gother. There is value in that little ship, sir, and she is too handsome a crafs to be allowed to wash about down here.” Some of the male passengers arrived for their customary bath in the bead. Do not believe the bathroom of the matal palace of this day com. parable as a Juzury 16 the old head pump. You stripped, you sprang on to s grating betwixt the headnoards, and an ordinary seaman went to work. The gushing blue brine sank to your marrow. It gushed in cold swéetness through and through you. You gazed down and saw the clear ‘blue profound out of which the sparklifg coil that hissed over your body was being drawn. It was the one delight of the tropics, the one joy that bappily somptimes checked the profanities in the passengers’ moaths ‘when they came on deck and found the ship motionless. One of the first to come on deck to taste the sweetness of the bead -in a glazed framed likeness of Mrs. Barrington. pump was Captain Parry. through t! canght sight of the schooner. He stood awhile stiring; so: up behind him forced him to move out of the Aatch. He stepped ont, siill with his eve glued fo the schooner, and adyancing that his vision might clear the quarter-boat, he came again to a stand, staring. He was a tall, well-built young man, about28 years of age; clot shaven and dark, and there was something Roman and heroic in the cast, of his countenance. He was airily clothed for the bath, ana watched the schooner with a towel or two dangling in his gra«p. By this time the boat had reacbed the side of the apparently aban- doned vessel, and the third officer might, with the naked eye, y have been seen to spring aboard, followed by a seaman. He stood awhile, tak- ing a.view of the decks, and then disappeared. “Captain Barrington,” exclsimed Oaptain Parry, wheeling suddenly upon the skipper of the ship as he approached him, “is anything known of that vessel?” I have jast sent a boat to bosrd her,” answered the captain. “Will you allow me to use that glass?"’ He took the telescope from the captain’s hands, and resting the tubes on the bulwark rail, gazed thirstily. There was something of astonish- ment indeed of amazement in his faco when he turned to Captain Bar- rington. “Idon’t think J can be mistaken,” he exclaimed in a low voice, talk- ing to the captain but looking at the schooner. “Itis the same figurehead, exactly the same rig, the same size, so far s the eye can measure her at this distance. She has a deckbouse for her sailors and her paintwork is the same. It will be extraordinary——'" be fetched his breath in a half gasp. “Do you know that vessel, d’ve say, Captain Parry!” asked old Bar rington, looking with curiosity and interest at the fine young fellow. “I would swear that she is the Mowbray,” answered Captain Parry, picking up the giass affesh and continuing to talk. “She was purchased by Mr. Vanderholt, who made a yacht of her, and when I was last in Eng- land I went on a short cruise in ber. along witn Mr. Vanderholt and his daughter, the lady to whom—to whom—good God! the longer I look the more I am satisfied. Noname is painted on her. You will tind her name in the boets. What under heaven brings her here, Iying abandoned? Yes, oh, yes! I'd pick her ont if she were in a fleet of 500 sail.” “It may beas you say,” exclaimed Captan Barrington. ‘It isa very remarkable meeting. But we can be sure of nothing until the third offi- cer returns.” A few passengers, attracted by this conversation, bad drawn close. You heard murmurs of excitement. A voyage at tacks and sheets was a tedious affair in spite of flirtation, cards, th ple diversions of the dance on the quarterdeck, the heaving of the quoit, the bets on the run. Even afloating bottle was a something to cause a stir. It broke the dull continuity of the day. A sail was a godsend. And, here now, after many weeks of teaious ocean travel, here now and uud-v aenly uprose, all at once, coming down abeam out of the darkness of the midnight, so to speak, an ocean mystery that would be fraught with an inexpressible significance if Captain Parry’s conjecture proved accurate. To this gentleman for whom the hezd pump had magically ceased to have existence, the time of waiting and suspense was frantically long. Lieutenant Piercy came and stood beside him. “But supposing it is the Mowbray ?”” said the young officer, ‘‘her pres- ence in this sea needn’t concern your iriends. The vessel may have been | sold. They may have been carrying her to some distant port. 1f it is fever the dead will be found. If mutiny—'* Here Lieutenant Piercy stopped, puzzled. 5 “'She's certainly abandoned.’’ said Piercy, ‘‘or something living would bave shown itself by this time.”’ “Whay the deucé doesn’t that Blundell return?”’ muttered Parry inan agony of impatience. But «ven as hé spoke the figure of the mate was observed to drop over the schooner’s side into the boat. The oars swept the brine into steam. | The boat hissed alongside and the third mate stepped on board. All the peopie of the saloon or cabin had by this time heard the news; they knew that an abandoned schooner, which was an ocean mystery, lay close by, and they had made great haste to dress themselves, insomuch that a larze number of them were on dgck. They elbowed round the third mate and the commander and Captain Parry to hesar the ship’s officer’s report. “She is the Mowbray, of and from London. I can’t find any papers. Here’s her logbook, sir. The last entry is in a female hand. The vessel was apparently on a pleasure cruise,” } *‘Let me look at tbat book,” said Captain Parry. He turned the pages till he came to the last entry, then began fo read, now and then swaying himself, then making a step in recoil. . Al saw by his face and his motions, by his strange gestures, by the wild looks he would sometimes cast from the page to the schooner, that what he read was carrying the bitterness of death to his heart. Meanwhile the captain was questioning the third officer. *There’s notking alive on board ?”’ “Nothing, I searched everywhe re.” “No dead bodies?”’ “None, sir.” “Did you discover nothing to enable us to make a guess at what’s be- some of her peo: le?"” j “Everything 1s in 1ts place, sir. The logbook was left conspicuously i open on the table of the cabin that had doubtless been occupied by the captain.” “Will you kindly accompany me below, Captain Barrington?” said Captain Parry, who was so extremely agitated and distressed that he could barely utter the words. The passengers made room. Every face bore ks of pity and as- tonishment. y had heard ‘that the last entrv was in a female hand, and they had siso heard, in fact they could see, that yonder schooner was abandoned. Captain Parry followed the commander of the ship down the com- panion steps into a bright, handsomely furnished salon; thence they passed into an after cabin, the door of which Captain Barrington shut. A Jarge, old-fashioned stern-window provided a spacious view of the sea. The light came off the water in a clond of splendor and glowed and throbbed upon the nautical brass instruments upon the table, and sparkled “The entry here,” exclaimed Captain Parry, irembling with excite- ment and the twenty contending passions within bim, “is in the hand- writing of the young lady to whom I am—to whom I was—to whom I am 10 be married on my arrival m England. She is M:ss Violet Vanderholt. You perceive,”” he said, pointing with a shaking forefinger, “that she writes her name. tory she tells is of a diabolical mutiny. It took glle' on December 15. This entry is dated the 18th. To-day is the 20th. 'he Mowbray bas, therefore, been abandoned two days only, perhaps not a day, for thongh this last entry is dated the 18th the crew need not neces- sarily have abandoned the schooner till yesterda; morning.” 41t is certain,” said Captain Barrin together with the young lady, were on board the “Quite certain, sir. But here is her story. I did not fully master it.” Captain Parry, with a shaking hand, gave the logbook to his com- panion. It was of the usnal form of logbook, with & good wide space for “'remarks” on the right-hand side ot each page. Captain Barrington, a white-haired man of 55, with scarlet cheeks, glanced over a few of the earlier entries. He saw that the lo& had been kept down to December 14. Anelxl'ud the entry was in a female hand-—strong, sure, but somewhat small. “I have ascertained that none of the men can read. Iam writing an account of what has befallen us in this book, hoping, since the men talk of leaving her and taking me with them, that this yacht may be met with and this logbook discovered. I heartily pray any into whose hands this book may fall that ne will publish my narrative to the world, so that my father's fate and my own may be known to Captain George Parry, H. E. 1 U.’s service, to whom I am engaged to be married.” The commander looked at Parry with brows arched by astonishment and sailorly concern. The officer brought his hands together in a con- vulsive gesture and turned his eyes with a look of despair upon the sea framed in the window. “My_father was Mr. Montagu Vanderholt, a well-known Cape mer- chant. We resided at — Terrace, Hyde Park, London. 1, Violet Van- derhols, am his only daughter. He thought that a sea trip would do him good. - He asked me to accompany him. I was his only companion, and we set sail from the Thames November 1 in this year. The master was Captain Glew. He treated the crew barshly and exoited their hate, though heé was cautious in his behavior when I was on deck, so that I never could say he spoke to & man_ barbarously. But the dreadful tragedy of this voyage was occasioned by the bad food supplied to the sailors. This was undoubtedly Captain Glew’s fault. He had been commissioned to victual A the vessel and was responsible for her stores, and 1 fear he knew that what £ he bought was not wholesome for men to eat, though the charges my poor : father was at should have given the men the very best quality of food. They complained to Glew, but not to my fatber. Captain Glew never | hinted that the men were murmuring, and the mutiny sprang Upon us with dreadful suddenness. ¥ “The captain and the mate seized the boatswain, and s man stabbed s thecaptain in the side and ?'orully wounded him. My fatber dragged |4 me below, and rushed on deck and I suppose tried to cow the men by -8 presenting the weapon. They did not heed him and he fired, and as I .‘ 5 Pray read it aloud to me. have since been told and must believe shot the mate, Mr. Tweed, acci- dentally throuch the head. Mr. Vanderholi was killed by an iron bar flung with murderous violence. They afterward feigned that this bar was : thrown with the intention of dashing the pistol from my father’s hand. This 11 that I have to relate. I am writine this at 10 o'clock on the morning of the 18th. Icannot imagine what the men intend. I ssked the bostswain, who bas treated 1me with great civility throughout, to tell me what they meant to do. This very morning I repeated the question. He answered he could not say. The ‘men were undecided. Bome were for going away in the boat and taking their cbances ot being picked up, and some for remaining in the vessel. I gathered from his manner that these were few. / What are they § 10 do with the schooner if they stick to her? Tney might, indeed, wreck § her off some island, where they could represent ti selves as shipwrecked men. I know that they ard me as a witness against them, and thut my life is in great danger, n:g the merciful God alone knows what is to ‘become of me. It is nearly—" g Here the entry ended. The commander of the ship looked at Caplain Parry. - “The hand of Providence is in this,” said the scarlet-faced man, very soberly and seriously. “They cannot be far off,” exclaimed Captain Parry, stepping to the stern window with an air of distraction and staring out at the sea. “It fsa clock calm,” said the commander. *and if anything which moves by canvas has received the crew wa may presume that she lies as helpless as we, not far distant.”" y g ‘“But what excuse could they make,” said Captain Parry, ‘‘to be trans- krr:d from !lo stanch a llt;l ip as th; Mowhru_r"l o “They might say that they were without a navigator “Wouidn’t another vessel puta navigator on board so fine a craft and send her home sooner than leave her to go to pieces down here? In that case we should not have found har here.” g:e “There’s nothing to be done at sea, sir, by arguing and speculating,’ said Captain Barrington, still preserving his very serious manner, as though indeed he had found something to awe him in the ¢ rcumstance of a girl writing, so to speak, in the heart of the Atlantic with particylar her lover, and that lover reading her words there. *“lt is as ed, *‘that they have gone away in the long boat. . rity were in favor of that meas- have fl-:;oa.lo hope that ihey ¢ will be picked up soon, in which case they can tel eir own story. 3 - Bu’t. Miss lendnhuh." exelaimed Captain Parry, “she can bear witn IFIIIIIK them. What will they do with her?” =< | s, exclaimed ‘the commander, fetching a deep breath, vitis cers - [ tain, anybow, that she is not in the schoouer, 5 B L he continu To be Continued, {