The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 4, 1897, Page 20

I . within little more than a league. THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 4, 1897. Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. ONTAGUE VANDERHOLT, a retired Cape merchant, widowed and with an only daughter, upon the advice of his physician, determined to take acruise to the equator and back to London in his schooner yacht, the owbray. He eugaged & Captaiz Glew to command the vessel end placed the matter of selecting the crew ana purchasing the stores for the men in the fore- castle in his hands. In December, Mr. Vanderholt and his daughter set sail from London for (heir winter's cruise. On the fifth day of the voyage Captain Glew acknowledged to Mr. that there was dissstisfaction among mem- bers of the crew on account of the quality of the meals served them. All that night there were mutinous 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. Vanderho!t und his daughter and Capiain Glew were con gregated. Glew, with the assistance of the first mate, Tweed, attempted to piace Jones, the leader of the ny,in irons. The remainder of the cre ried to Tush to their leader's aid, but wers stopped by Vanderholt, who, with pistol in hand, de red th e would kill the first man who interiered witn the captain. Daring the threatening pistol, Simon Toole, an Irish sailor, rushed into the melee and stabbed the captain. At the same time Vande itfired, but the bullet k d Mate Tweed instead of Toole, for whom it was intended. Then a sallor named Maul killed Vanderholt with & ying pin. 1 these horrible events transpired before the horrified eyes of the daughter of the owner of the ship, who found her- self in sgonizing helplessness with her dead at sea in a vessei mannea by half- drunken, murderous madmen. On December 20 of the same year the ship Alired, Caprain Barrington, bound from India to London, sights tae Mowbray north of the equator and finds that she is deserted. A boat is sent aboard and returns with the logbook. in which is found an unfinished entry, written by Miss Vanderholt, telling the story of the mutiny. Oue of the passengers on board the Alfred is Captain Parry, to whom Miss Vanderholt is betrothed, and he is naturelly much moved by the discovery. sl CHAPTER VL In the year of this story Old Leisure was still going to sea. He flour- ished as pleasantly npon the ocean as amid the hens and dunghills, the milkmaids and dairie: of the Poyser farmyard. He brought his maintop- sail to the mast without reluctance, when thers was anything to be seen or talked to he went on board the strancer and dined with him; invited the stranger in return, then leisurely proceeded. There wasno prompt dispatch to speak of, no urgency. The wind was the prevailing condition of the immense distances which the wooden keel had to traverse. Old Leisure kept his eve to windward and hauled out his bowlines, but it was a time of ambiing, of dozing, and of whistling for winds until too much came. Only in such a time as this now dealt with at sea could we conceive a large rigged ship, homeward bound from India fuil of impatient hearts, hove to w a derelict schooner within easy hail, and the com- mander taking plenty of time to reason about her with a gentleman who was infinitely concerned in her unexpected, astounding apparition and logbook narrative. ' 'he thought of Miss Vanaerholt being at the mercy of a crew of mu- tiruous ruffians is unbearable,” exclaimed captain Parry. “Whatis to bedone? Advise me in the name of God, Captain. You know—you know —I have told you she was to be my wife. You are an old sailor. For God’s sake counsel me.” “If I counld be sure that they made off in- their boatand were still afloat in her,” answered the captain, *I should know now to advise you. But if they have been received on board a ship then I don’t see what can be done. For in what direction may that ship be heading? Enough if your youn: lady should be safe, sir. Supposing her to be on board & ship I have no doubt of your hearing good news oi her—in the course of time— after your arrival in England.” He opened the cabin door and called to one of the stewards. My compliments to the chief officer and ask him to come to me.’” Mr. Mulready quickly presented himself. “We have some notion,” said Captain Barrington, addressing his mate while he la1d his hand upon the log of the Mowbray, “that the crew of the schooner may bave left her in their boat, taking the young lady with them. Send a couple of hands—don't trouble the young gentlemen,’ said he, with a supercilious smile, vanishing almost as it appeared upon his firm lips, “but a couple of sharp hands to the royalmast heads. Give one of them tnis gla: He handed Mr. Mulready a binocular. “Lel the other take the ship's telescope aloft. I want the sea carefully swept. Make them understand that they must creep in their search to the very verge, for how far off is a boat visible? But they might sight the gleam of her lugsail.” Mr. Mulready took the giasses and went swiftly out. Captain Parry stood at the window, listening to what was passing, straining his sight aiso with consuming passions of dread, blind desire, helpless wrath at the star-blue line of the sea that swept the brilliance of the heavens The captain of the ship wenttoa locker and took out a chart of the Atlantic. He spread it and called to Captain Parry. The officer turned and rapidly turned to the chart. He #aw zig-zag prickings or lines upon the white sheet, as though somebody had been trying to represent flashes of lightning. Each line terminated in a little dotted circle. These were the “‘runs.” But then these were - also the doldrums, and the motive power of that ship, the Alfred, lay in the breeze that in the doldrums blows in the delicate catspaw that scarcely has power 1o run a shiver into a glazed breast. ““Ihis was our situation at noon yesterday,’’ said the commander, put~ ting his finger upon the northmost little circie. “There is no land for ieagues, as you may observe.” ““What are those rocks?”” observed Parry, peering. “'8t. Paul’s Island, a horrible hornet’s nest of black fangs, entirely ont of the boat’s reacb. I am not sure that I ever heard of a boat effecting a * “ Janding. Any one cast ashore there must perish. There is nothing to eator drink. It is the desolation of hell,” added the commander with z note of religious fervor in his speech, “and a dreadful surf like a night- ‘mare of storm raves day and night round those rocks.” “‘What is to be done?” said Captain Parry, lifting himself erect from the chart. “If they are in a boat they cannot be far distant. They have not long left the schooner, but every stroke of the oar varries them further away, and renders the search more hopeless.” “The search?”” exclaimed the commander in a note of inguiry and surprise. “Idon’t mean in this snip, of course,” said tbe officer, speaking with agitation and very quickiy. *‘A clipper schooner lies close at hand. If you will lend mea navigatorand a few hands we will sweep the sea, taking this mark,” he continued, putting his finger upon the chart, “‘as our base, and hunting with masthead lookouts and fires burning by night in circles whose circumference or diameter Ishould leave to the judgment of the mate ip charge.” Tue commander began to slowly pace his cabin. Once he paused and gazed with a face of earnest gravity at tbe sea that came brimming to the counter in @ sheet of winding lines, the light swathes of the tropic ealm, theoily gleam, the troublea tremble of some stream of current twinkling in diemonds. Captain Parry eyed him with a passionate, silent anxiety. He dreaded a discussion that might kill the hope that had suddenly been born in him. A tapon the door caused the commander to start. Mr. Mulready entered. “The masthead men have been working hard with the ir glasses, sir and réport nothing in sight.”” “How is the schooner?”’ “Forlorn, but safe, sir.” *‘Take & boat and go aboard and make further examination of her and . overbzul her stores; all as smartly as may be. sir. This gentleman has an idea, and Idon’t know but that it might prove practicabie,” said the commander, ana_as Mr. Mulready left the cabin the captain of the ship * turned to Parry and gsked him to follow him on deck. On the ciptain emerging the third mate approached and touched his cap and exclaimed:. “When I said there was nothing liviug on board that * schooner, sir, I +hould have reported & small coop full of cocks and hens wll alive and very bungry and thirsty. I fed them with some rice I found in the galley &nd poured a quartity of water into their trouzb.” He sa- luted and marched off. “In the face of Miss Vanderholt’s last entry,” said the captain to Parry, “‘we don’t want live cocks and hens to tell us that the vessel has basn recently sbandoned.” Taptain Barrington and Captain Parry stood together at the mizzen h shrouds, looking at the schooner, conversing and waiting for the return of the mate. The passengers very ectfully gave them a wide berth, “*No,” says Captain Barrington presently, *I shall have no ohjection, sir. Iam tobe influenced by humanity in this business. My owners cannot and will not object,” he added, as if thinking aloud. “We shall be saving a valuable yacht. Mr. Blundell is a very efficient young officer, quite experienced enovgh to take charge; and he will receive certain ine structions from me, sir, for we must define the area of sea to be searched and the time to be taken.” Ho looked at the schooner thoughtfully. “She is under 200 tons,” said he. *Mr. Biundell and four men and a boy should suffice. I can spare no more.” *1 am no sailor, but I can puil and haul,” said Captain Parry. do a man’s bit.. What time would you limit us to?” “I should wish to be a little elastic. There's no wind here to depend upon,” answered the commander. I will see Mr, Blundell in my cabin after breakfast and explain my ideas.’’ It was 10 o'ciock when the mate returned from the Mowbray. All this while the sea remained satin smooth. The sun soaring high burnt fiercely, the paint bubbled in blisters, the pitch ran in sofisoap and the whole light of the schooner’s canvas poured under her in quivering sheets of quicksilver. Mr. Mulready was dark with dirt and sweat, and looked like a man who has passed a weck in stowing a s:ip's hold. Captain Parry stood in the ganzway to reccive him, and the mate’s immediate inquiry was for the commander. He was closeted with Mr. Blundell. *‘What news can you give me?” said the military offic:r, grasping the dry-minded mate by the arm and looking beseechingly into his face. “There’s just plenty of stores and fresh water,” answered Mr. Mul- ready, “‘enough to last a small crew six months. Her after hold is rich in the eating line. Thero are about two dozen cocks und hens.” “Idon’t mean that,” exclaimed Parry wildly. *“Did you find no hint of the fate of the young lady?’ “My answer mustbe,” answered the mate with a cer(ain formal, sym- “I can He looked and began to realize the brutal scene as the girl had sketched it in that last entry. It was hard to think of his immensely wealthy friend, Mr. Vanderholt, m-eting a mean, base end at the hands of a bruial Ratcliffe sailor. What bad they done with Violet? He searched as the two mates had searched, and, of course, found more than they. He beheld in a cabin memorials of his sweetheart—her dresses, her hats, a veil and a pair of gloves lay in her cot. One glove was siill bulked with the impress of her hand, as though she bad but just now drawn it off in a hurry and cast itdown. He peered narrowly. Tl{e cabin” was-a charming little boudoir. He witnessed no sugeestious of violence, nothing appeared to have been disturbed. He sought for mn_rkl of blood, then taought to himsel f she is murdered they did not kill her with a knife, they drowned her.” . SR He stayed for half an hour in this cabin, then enterea the adjoining berth, which had been Mr. Vanderholt’s. H- found nothing to help him here. The old gentleman had been eccentric. He had believed he lo_vad the life of the forecastle, God help him! and he had illustrated his idie imagination of fondness by causing his berth 10 be rendered as uncomfort able as possible. 5 Parry was disturbed in his investigations of this berth by a bustle in the cabin. He looked out and saw a couple of sailors coming down with his luggage. “Tamble those traps in here,” he said. *“‘Are we moving?”’ “Itis a fact, sir,”” said one of the men, who was a Swede. gentle vindt bas begun to blow, and der Alired is going hcme.” “Home? Ido notquite understand,”” exclaimed Captain Parry. He said no more, however, to the men, and went on deck to look about him. Mr. Blundell was a stout, hearty young sailor, about 22 years of age He had that sort of ‘ace which 1s often met at sea under both flags—per- fectly hairless, fleshy, permanently tinctured by the roasting fires and the drying-in gales and 1rosts of ocean travel. He was looking at the com pass of the schooner when Captain Parry approached. Perhaps he- sought for a hint or two in gear that did not lead like a ship's and canvas that was not shaped for tquare yards. Ata motion from Captain Parry he drew away from the helmsman. “I am ata loss,” said the captain, looking at the ship under the shel- ter of his hand. “Isthe Alfred going home?'" “Certainly, sir,” answer.d Mr. Blundell. *“We’ve dipped our farewell. ‘We're now on our own hoot.” “Then I mistook. I supposed when Captain Barrington talked of limiting us to time that be intended we should return to bim here,” said Captain Parry. The young mate smiled. ‘‘His notion in limiting us to time,” said he, “was that we should not run the quest intv a hopeless job. There should be a Lmit.” “10f course, a reasonable limit,”” said Parry. “It nas been left to my judgment, si by you.” ~Thanks, Blundell.” Captain Parry, pronouncing this sentence with warmth and emotion, steppea to the binnacle and looked at the card. “You are bolding the schooner northwest,” said he. reason ? “We must head her on one course or another,” auswered Blunaell. “T propose, with your leave, to carry out Captain Barrington’s ideas. He has sketched me a circular course. I'll compass it off on the chart below presently, and you shall form your own opinion. Loose the square can- vas, my lads,” he sang out, abruptly breaking from Captain Parry. The captain lent a hana to pull and haul. He dragged to the music of the salt throats at the sheets ana halliard The breeze freshened in a steady gushing! The ocean was a miracie of laughing light. Already you heard the snore of foum at the cutwater and the steady hiss of its passage aft. The Alfred was growing small and square in the blue tance. She was feeling the breeze now, and her pale and shapely shadow leaned as she headed with an occasional dim flash from her wet black sides into the fur northern recess. Captain Parry went below and returned on deck with the binoculars, which he had observed in Mr. Vanderholt’s cabin. The main rigging of the Mowbray was rattled down to the height of the lower masthead. The captain got into the shrouds ana made his way to the crosstrees. Higher, being no sailor, he durst not crawl. With one hand he grasped a topmast shroud that was swealing tar; with the other he lifted the glasses and s2arched the sea till his eyes swelled and throbbed in their sockets. When he descended he said to the mate: “A little “What is it?" and I am willing to be governed “You have a S \) N e ““This will be it,IthinE,’ said Blundell, sticking the compass into the chart.” pathetic gravity, cocks and hens. The cavtein made his appearance, followed by Mr. Blundell. I have drranged with the third officer,” said he, walking straight up to Captain Parry and the mate, “that he shall take charge of the yacht and search for the boat. There can beno hurry while this clock calm lasts. Still 1 dare say you will be glai to zo on board.” “I'm mad to go on board,” answered Captain Parry. *'Get your luggage together, then, sir. Mr. Blundell will provide the schooner with a couple of pistols out of the arms chest angd the necessary ammunition. Ifyou fall in with the boat remember, they are eizht sea- men rendered desperate by murder. You will be but seven. The poss bility is but faint—the chance is the smailest,”” the captain muttered in s dying voice. “I thank yon for your foresight,” said ‘Parry, and he went hastily to his cabin to pack up. 3 The mate toid the captain that there was plenty of rockets and port fires aboard the schooner. A fireball by night might bring the boat to the yacht, He then produced a piece of ‘paper and gave the commander an idea of the quantity of stores in the littie vessel. “They'll want nothing from us, then,” said Captain Barrington. “However, since the mu'iny seems to have been owing to the rottenness of the food, sling a couple of casks of'our beef into the boat.” It was 11 o'clock when all was ready for Captain Perry to go on board the Mowbray. Four men and & oy had volunteered as a crew, and wien the boat was freighted she lay deep along side with seamen’s chests, lue. gage, casks of beef and human beings. The passengers made a tender fareweli of this singular and most romantic leave-taking in midocean. They pressed forward to shiake Captain Parry by the hand. Some hoped that the blessing of God would attend bLis search., More than that one Jady raiscd a handkerchief to her eyes. As tho boat shoved off a hearty cheer broke from the whole length of the vessel. The boat reachsd the side of the Mowbray, and ail that was to be received on board was handed up. Captain Parry breathed deep and wore a wildness in his looks while he stood for a few minutes gazing round about him. Of course he remem- tered the little ship perfectly well—the aelizht!ul -cruise he had ‘taken in her with Vioiet and her father a little ‘While before be returned 10 India, hat nothing is alive on yonder vessel saving a few “I have wondered why the men should have left the schooner afloat. Don’t they usualiy scutile vessels in affairs of this sort?” “I heard the captain and the second officer talk this matter over,” said Mr, Blundell. “The second mate though: that the villatnsknew what they were atout when they left the schooner floating. She would be mat with and boarded. They'd tind nothing to give them an idea of what had bappened. So she'd be carried away to a port as a mystery and that wouid be giving the men a better chance than had they scattled her.” “Why?” 'Always one of the men who've been concerned in bioody business of this sort finds his way to a hospital. He lies alongside another man and gabbles. The second mate seemed to think that if one of the men of this yacht turned up ata hospital and gabbled less would be made of what he said if the schooner had been towed into port as a mystery than had she been sunk. For my part,” agded Mr. Blundell, I believe they left her afloat because they couldn’t find the Leart to sink her. She is a beauty,” he murmured, and he whistled as he looked aloft and aropad. 1 take the second mate's view,” said Oaptain Parry. “This is how Captain Barrington hopes we'll work it, sir,” said Blunt dell, coming out of Captain Glew’s berth a little later and putting a char- upon the tab'e. He also produced a pair of compasses and a nautical instrument for measuring distances. He pulled a paper covered with calculations from his pocket and placed it by his side. *This wiil be it, I thirk, sir,”” said Blundell, sticking a leg of the com- pass into the chart. “Where the point of ihis leg is we were when we parted company with the Alfred. ‘We allow the boat a start of thirty- 81X bours, remembering always that our weather will have been hers.” “Quite 80," exclaimed Captain Parry, devouriog every word. ‘“Iam now heaaing,”” continued the mate, with a glance at the paper, “‘to arrive at t, point.”” Here he put the pencil end of the compasses upon tue chart. **When we arrive there our navigation will be this” He now, with great care and coustant references to tie paper of figures, together with a frequent use of the nautical instrument for meas- uring distances, described a number of circles. These circles lay one within another, and when completea they might be likened toa cone- shaped spring, or 1o a corkscrew, looked at vertically. **You will perceive, Captain Parry,” said the mate, ‘‘that the distance between each circle is the same, How far can a man see from the schoo- * 's 1o, d? Weli, Geptain Barrington would not aliow that he :;«:n‘ldr Ev-‘]an{e“m see so smnfl an object as a boat even, witha fiwd tele- scope, at a greater distance than fifteen miles. lh‘quzrg Dr?‘bab :‘ a ma.n mught lift a gooa forty-mile view of the horizon by climbing tie sc oope; s foremast. Fifteen miles to port and fifteen to starboard. Hach circle, therefore, is thirty miles wide.” E o - “If the boat is afloat,” exclaimed Oaptmn Parry, viewing the disks with admiration full of hops, *'she must posiiively be within one of these circles.” *‘Unless shs has taken a breezy and blown clear, or means to come ranning into the inner while we're steering our dead best for the outer circles.” **What chance do we stand "’ ” “Frankly, sir, the smallest chance that ever was found at sea,” an- swered the young mate, rolling up his chart. Y ““The horribie consideration with me,” said Captain Parry, “is that the yourg lady may not be in the boat.” Mr. Blundell looked slowly around the cabin, but made no answer. CHAPTER VIL THE DISCOVERY. The wind that evening fres ened out of the northwest glare of sunset. The sky thickened and some small wings of scud flew southeast, bron by the wes.ern splendor dimming fast. The sea ran in a cioudy green, but without weight in the light tropic surge. At sundown Mr. Blundell hailed the royal yard and the answer, Loarse in tone as a seagull’s scream, after another patient search of the sea line with a high-perched telescope, was *‘Nothing in sight, sir.” Then the mate ordered the man to come down on deck, and haifan how Jater, when kness was on the :uce of the deep and the last red scar had died out of the stariess sy, the Mowbray was slopping softly through the creaming waters under her mainsail and standing jib only. The little ship stood against the black of the night, fire-tinctnred. She looked, with her glowing yellow masts, her fiery shrouds, to be buiit of flame. The night came in walls of blackness to this beautilul vision, and the noise of the sea, and tue sense of the infinity of the deep that was running and seething out of sight filled the glowing picture with an en- trancing spirit of mystery. You would have said that sue owed her life and light to the sea zods. Both Farry and the mate while this flare was burning repeatedly di- recied their night glasses at the ocean, and even while it burnt a man came aft to the call of the mate and sent up a couple of rockets. The fireballs hissed, burst and vanished in spanglis, darting a luster as of lightning across a little space of sky. The flare rackled, leaped up, smoldered and was extinguished by a bucket of water. A couple of lanterns, brigbt, globular glasses, were lighted and hung up in th® main rigeing, one on each side. This brought the hour to about 10:15. The sea was agein searched, its ghasily face had stolen out and the heads of the breakin. biliows under that thick and pallid sky were like the flashes of guns in mist. “If the lady isn’t in this circle, Captain Parry,” said Mr. Blundell cheerfully, “lev’s bope we'll find her in the next. If the boat’s withia ten miles of us they’ll have seen our flare and those fireballs.” ‘‘But we are moving through tbe sea,” said Captain Parry. “It we make them a head wind and continue to sail, how are thiey to fetch us?” ““The schooner’s only just under command, sir. i I heave to thedrift will put me out. With your kind leave I'll go below and get a glass of s They both went into the cabin leaving a man to look out. They were waited upon by the boy, who was indeed a young man of about 28, with a face fell of sallow fluff and an old man’s look in his eyes and in the con- traction of his brows, as though he had been born in the workhouse and kn w life. But at sea there ure but three grades, anu if you don’t sign articles as an able seaman, then if you were 80 years old aud could scarcely creep over the ship’s side with your cargo of scythe and hour glass, you'd be called a boy. The mate and Captain Parry sat for a little in the cabin sipping cool brandy and water. g “Stould the men in the boat see our flares and rockets,” said the captain, ‘‘what will they think of them?"” *“They’ll approach us to take a look.” “‘But if they make out that we are the schooner of their piracies and murders witl they come on board 2"’ *‘Bhe’s an open boat, sir, and you have to consider how men will be driven by cxposure. Anyhow,” said Mr. Blundell, “if we can only corx her this side (he horizon we may easily keep her in sight till we've worn them out!"” *'I have been thinking of these rea-hot skiez, too. Will Miss Vander- holt be able to survive the exposure of even a day and night?” and Captain Parry swayed in his chair with a grief of the thought. “Well,” said the mate, with the note of a stout heart in his voice, *“only a sailor is able to tell a man what ladies really can go through. Low-class females, emigrants and the like, cave in quickly; they are the sbriekers, They cannot bear terror, and it kills them on rafts and in boats. But your thoroughbred lady is always the one that I've seen, heard of and read of who has shown a lion's heart and the coldness of a stone head in shipwreck. If Miss Vanderholt be in tie boat you'll find that she’ll huve suffered less than the men.” A faint smile stirred the lips of Captain Parry, but he grew quickly grave again'with thedistress of bis imagination. At that momenta hoarse cry in the skylight made them spring to their feet. ““There's a big ship a-bearing down upon us.” The mate rushed up the steps foliowed by Captain Parry. Theghostly sbeen of the moon still clouded us with sieam the thickness of the night, and the scene of heaven and sea was mystical with elusive distance, with the soft, near flash of the surge and the windy chzos of the herizon. On the bow, not hall a mile distant, was a large, pale shape. The night-glass made her white hulled, with canvas to her trucks. The schooner was thrown into the wind. It was clearly the intention of the stranger to speak the Mowbray. Through the small, scattering hiss of the seaon either band you might have heard the low, constant thunder of the bow wave of the sbip as she came crushing through the brine, making a ligiit for herself with her sides and white heights, but showing no lights, till on a sudden the human silence was broken by a short, gruff comman i, weak with distance. The sound might then be heard of ynids being swung, ropes crowed 1 blocks, parels creaked on masts, and in a few minutes a large white ship, with the fires of the sea drirping at her cutwater, lay abreast of tt.e schooner, all way choked out of her by the backed topsail. “Schooner auoy!” “Hello!" shouted Mr. Blendell, sending his voice farinto the darlk- ness over the ship's rail whence the hail had proceeded. “What's wrong with you that you are sending up rockets and burning fires?'’ “‘We are in search of a boat. eight men and a lady ?”’ A short silence ensued. “What schooner are you?' ‘The Mowlbray, of and now for the Thames, when we recover the boat. ‘What ship are you?” “'The Georgina Wilde, Liverpool, to Melbourne. I expect your people have been rescucd\ We passed a schooner’s long boat vesterday morn- ing, and read your name, the Mowbray, in her stern sheats,’” *If toat's the case,” exclaimed Mr. Biundell quickiy to Captain Parry, *‘there’l] beno good ieft in this circ.e joo. “‘Has he no more information to give * said Captain Parry, with a hopeless stare at thetall, pale shadow, upon whose decks nothing was vis- ible in that thickness save a dull will-o'-the-wisp-like glimmer where the binnacle stand stood. The schooner was bniled again. “Hello!” answered Biundell **We sizhted a derelic: yesterday at noon. She was within a mile or two of the long boat. Looked like a small brig timber-laden.” “How would she bear from us now ?”” baweled the mate. “The bearing of the derelict,” shouted the voice in tones of the velume of a speaking trumpet, ‘‘will be northwest by nortn, balf north. Aboat, Don't take this as.if wasan observation. Try about forty miles on that course, and if nothing beaves into 'view sweep the sea. ‘The derelict’s bound to be afloat. Farewell, good luck attend you.” Then, a minute L.m-. “‘Swing the maintopsail yard. Ease away your weather main race.”’ The pale, lofty shadow leaned from thé damp night breeze and the water trembled into fire along the visionary length of her, when, with a soft stoop of bow to some invisible heave of the ocean, she broke her way onward, dissolving quickly into the night. “About forty miles distant,’ said Mr. Blundell, stepping to the com- pass. “Shall we hezd on = course for her, sir?” *“Oh, most certainly,” answered Captain Parry. “Better jog aiong under easy canvas till it comes daylight, anyhow,” said the mate. The course was shifted, sail trimmed, the gaff foresail was set and the rchooner, carrying the minight breeze abeam, glided soundlessly through the gloom over the biack, wide heave of the sea. Captain Parry was too anxious to take a rest. He lighted a cheroot and paced the deck with Mr. Blundell, who had heroically resolved not to turn in that night—not to turn iu at all until the timber-laden derelict had been sighted. boarded and run maged. They kept the lanterns burn- ing in the rigging. They never knew how it might be with the eight men and the Iady, supposing the ladv to be with them. It is true that the long boat had been fallen in with adrift, but then, as Mr. Blundell put it ““that wight be dus to an accident without signifying that they’d been re- ceived on board a ship and their boat let go. “My own view's this, sir,” said be, s he iighted one of Parrs's cheroots at the glowing tip of the captain’s. *“The men saw that timber crait, and, being scorched with heat and wild with cramp, they resolved to make for the she!ter of it, where they could streich their arms and’ take the kinks out of their legs. The painter which beld the boat slipved and she drifted sottly off, and when they saw that she was gone she was a dozen ship’s lenxins aistant. They could do Bothing aboard a drownea timber ship with empty davits ani @ Jist of perbaps 40 degrees, but let hergo. TLat's my notion. Wa shall fina all hands abourd. If 80, what will you wish me to do, sir?”’ “Bring them into this schooner,” answered Captain Parry, - have murdered Miss Vanderholt they shall swing Tor it, hl; Goar i **But pray consider ‘his, sir,” said Mr. Blundell, coolly. “They are eight men—daring defiant devils, no doubi, bullies in the alley, joliy ex- amples of your Jack Muck. We are seven. To bring them on board we should be obliged to ietch them. But, sir, we can’t leave the schooner deserted. She might run away from us. She got her liberty once, and the appearance of the derelict might excite her appetite afresh for freedom.” (7o be continued.) Have you met with a boat containing ) l