The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 11, 1897, Page 18

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, APRIL 11, 1897 Synopsis of Preceding Chapters. JONTAGUE VANDERHOLT, & retired Cape merchant, widowed and with S an only daughter, upon the advice of his physician, determined to take ® cruise to the equator nd back to London in his schooner yacht, the Mowbray. He engaged & Captaiz Glew to command the vessel end placed the matter of selecting the crew and purchasing the stores for the men in the fore- castle in his hends. In December, 1848, )Ir. Vanderholt and his daughter set sail irom London for their winter's cruise. On the fifth day of the voyage Captain Glew acknowledged to Mr. Vanderholt that there was dissatisfaction among bers of the crew on account of the quality of the meals served them. All that ¢ there were mutincus mutterings 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 fiying toward the quarterdeck where Mr. Vanderholt and his daughter and Captain Glew were con gregated. Glew, with the assistance of the first mate, Tweed, attempted to piace Jones, the leader of the mutiny, in irons. The remainder of the crew started to rush to their leader’s eid, but were stopped by Vanderholt, who, with hand, declared that be would kill the first man who interfered with the c Daring the threatening pistol, Simon Toole, an Irish sailor, rushed into the melee and stabbed the captain. Atthes Vanderholt fired, but the builet killed Mete Tweed instead of Toole, for it was intended. Then a sailor named Maul killed Vanderholt with & belaying pin. All these horribie events transpired before the horrified eyes of the daughter of the owner of the snip, who found her- self in agonizing helplessness with her dead st sea in a vessei mannea by hali- drunken, murderou madmen. On December 20 of the s vear the ship Alfred, Captain Barrington, bound from India to London, sights the 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. One of the board the Alired is Captain Parry, to whom Miss Vanderholt is betrothed, and he is naturally much moved by the discovery. After some discussion Barring- ton begins a eearch on the high seas for Miss Vanderhoit, and has just secured a clew which he is following. passengers on - “*For God's sake, Mr. Blundell,” broke in Captain Parry, ‘‘don’t joke."” *I mean, sir,” continued Mr. Blundell, in a voice that did nim some honor, as it proved that he could be abashed, *‘that we should have to leave thyee of our people to look after the schooner, so that we should go four to eight in order to fetch them.” “We are armed,” exclaimed Captain Parry. “Two pistols,” said the mate. ing them aboard, we must bring them aboard,” cried r a voice that almost <houted with nerve. *“Will they be content,” he went on after a hard suck or two at his cigar, “to continue washing about in a wreck that might spread under them atany minute like a pack of cards, when they see a schooner alongside willing to receive them ?”’ ““To be hanged, sir.” ' “Who's to tell them that till we've got them under hatches?” said Captain Parry. “They know this craft,” said Blundell, in a note of gloom. *“It'll be & job—eight of 'em and only four of us. It'll take us all we know."” At daybreak nothing was visible in the telescope from the fore royal yard. The weather had cieared in the night. It was a strange mountain- ous morning of huge, swollen cloud, whose sun-brightened bellies amaz- ingly brightened the silver of that ocean. Now and again round about the horizon a spark of lightning would flash in the neart of a violet shadow of vapor, and now and again 2 low note of thunder, distant. trem- ulous as an organ strain, would roil across the sea, as though some huge, deep-throated beast, big as a hill and couchant behind the horizon, was being irritated. There was breeze enough to keep the schooner’s sails full, and sunrise found the Mowbray pursuing the course of the night. Captain Parry re- freshed himself with a bucket of cold green brine and tried to make some breakfast. Mr. Blundell ate heartily, and again as they sat at table they argued upon the course to adopt should they find the eight seamen on the wreck. If they've got Miss Vanderholt with them,” said the mate, *I should recommend asking them 1o allow us to receive her abeard—we leaving them aboard the wreck to be taken off by the next thing that passes.” “1like that idea,” said Captain Parry. *‘It would save bloodshed. We want nothing but the young lady. They should be glad to get easily rid of her as a witness. If they are short of food we can supply them with stores enough to keep them going for a time that would allow of a reason- able chance of their being rescued.” “They’ll want provisions anyhow,” said the mate. craft float on their cargo. You need to dive to getat the grubin those derelicts. I'm counting upon hunger courting them into the schooner, without obliging us to try what coaxing them with four men and two pis- tols is going to do.” They went on deck and stared at the sea line through glasses. A little before noon, just at the moment when Mr. Blundell was coming out of his cabin with his sextant, a man stationed aloft on the lookout hailed him. “What is hatch. “There is a black object away down upon the port bow. It looks like a boat.” **How does it bear on the bow?’ cried Blundell. “*About two points,” was his answer. Mr. Blundell shifted his helm for it, but whatever it might be it was not yet visible from the deck. The mate got an observation of the sun and went below to work it out. When he returned he found Captain Parry examining a dark object on the bow with a telescope. “It's & ship's boat, most unquestionably,” said the captain, turning to Mr. Blundell. The mate was at this instant hailed afresh from the masthead. “There’s another dark object about a point on the weather bow,” said the fellow, dangling hieh in air, his hoarse voice softening in falls as it reached the ear from the hollows of the sails. *‘She’ll be the wreck, sir,” he howled, after working away with his glas Captain Parry was as pale as the dawn with excitement and expecta- tion. *“I vow to €od,” said he, bringing his fist down on the rail, “I would certainly lose my left arm with cheerfulness to know at this instant that Miss Vanderholt is alive and well in the timber-ship that chap sighted and recoverable from her.” ““If she is with them they'il all come on board together,’” said the mate, with scarce conscious dryness. ‘Hunger and thirst will work their way with beasts, let alone men.” Little more was said while the schooner, driven by a five-knot breeze, swept in long floating launches down upon the boat that came and went. There had been wind somewhere, and a small swell rolled in from the westward, running lightning flushes through the water. No :man could =ay 1t was the Mowbray’s long boat till they bad luffed and shaken the wind out of the schooner, close alongside the little fabric. Then her iden- tity was settled by a single glance at her through the glass. The yacht's neme, “Mowbray. London,” was painted in large black letters upon the backboard 1n the stern sheets. “'Stand by to hook her,”’ shouted tHe mate. A seaman aft, jumping for a boathook in one of the quarter-boats, sprang into the little ledge of “‘Stove timber m shouted Blundell, springing through the companion the main chains; the schooner was slightlv maneuvered; the boat wrs brought close alongside and captured. She was as empty and dry as an old cocoznut shell. *“What does that signify ?” said Captain Parry. “One of two things, clearly,” answered Brundell. “Either ther have carried all the stores they left the yacht with aboard the wreck, or the ship that picked them up emptied her before sending her adrift.” “Would they let a valuable boat like her go?” The mate shrugged his shoulders. There are some questions concern- ing the sea which even a saiior cannot answer. “Do you see that her long painter is trailing overboard?” exclaimed Cavtain Parry, who remained white with excitement. *‘Does it not look as if the knot had unhitched and let her ship away ?” “But from what, That trailing length of rope might as easily mean that she was let siip from a ship as that she slipped of ker own ac- cord from a wreck.” , uttered swiftly, occupied a minute while they overhung the into the boat alongside. “We must have her out of that,” said the mate, “‘and restow her.” The man who was hanging to her by the boathook, turning up a face rolled with the sickly sluggishness of the water-logged huik. As the schooner approached features of the wreck grew plain. She carried a deckioad of lumber and her hold was evidently full of timber. By some desperate gale she had evidently been wrenched till her butts started, her stron- fastenings gave, her topmasts went and the green frothing seas rushed in, drowning her into a lifelessness of helm. On board tne schooner they could perceive no wreckage floating near. What stfferings obscure and horrible was that little wreck memoriaiizing? The phantoms of the imagination peopied her. White-faced men, dying in squatting positions, sat upon the sea-broken deckload of timber. There was no captain, no commanii; the fingers of famine had effaced distinctions. Tnen one would die with a groan, tailing sideways, with his white eyes glazing to the sun, and another would mutter in delirium and csll upon the Lord Jesus Christ, and motion with a ghastly smile to his mother to make haste with the delicious urink of cold water she was bringing him. Phantoms or no phantoms, all were gone. The wreck lay apparently lifeless, absolutely abandoned, a yawning frame, sofdden by weeks of washing to and fro. Thus it seemed to the eyes aboard the schooner as she drew closer and closer to the desolate, mournful, storm-broken fabric. *“There may be rats in the vessel,” said the mate, with a countenance made up of relief and extreme curiosity, “but I don’t see them, Captain Parry, neither do I see anything else that’s living.” “A ship has taken them off,” said Captain Parry in a tone of hopeless misery, “and it may be months and years before I find out what is the fate of Miss Vanderholt.”” They were now within a musketshot of the wreck. The yacht's way was arrested, and she scemed to stand at gaze with her people staring. The long swell swung a dismal roil into the lifeless hull. A raffle of rig® ging bung over Ler sides, and whenever she rolled away she tore these up from the water as if they had been sea plants whose roots were a thou- sand fathoms deep; they rose hissing to the drag, and sank like baffied snakes wihen she came wearily over again. It made the heart sick to watch her, to figure oneself as alone upon Ler, the loose timbers olatter- ing through the long, black nizht, the dark water welling in sobs along- side, the awful and soul-subduing spirit of siillness that lives in the sea when i:s billows are silent, as though the hush in the central heart of the profound rose like n emanation of wind or vapor, taking the senses of the lonely one with the maudsuinz undertones of spiritual utterance. Mr. Blundell continucd to view the wreck through a glass. Captain Pairy stood beside him with tightly folded arms, death white with grief and sickness of disappointment, and silent. “‘There is nobody aboard thuat vessel, sir.” “I fear not,” the captain answered in a low voice. “The only place where people could find shelter,” said the mate, *lis in that little green deckhouse. 1f thers were eizht men sitting in that house, one would have seen us, and all bave tumbled out long ago.” “The long boat has told us the story.” said the Captain. “They have been taken on board another vessel. 1s Miss Vanderhoit with them?” He started #s to a sudden accees of temyer and determination, and said, “Blundel], give me ino of your men, and lower that boat. I'll b oard that brig. I may find sometbing to sive us a clew.” “‘Put one of the revolvers in your pocket, sir,” said Mr. Blundell. A boat was lowered and two men and Captain Parry, armed, enterea her. Aliwas lifeless abcard the wreck. 1t would have been ridiculous then to suspect amtusn. She had oid-fashioned channels, platforms by which ber lewer rigging was extended and secured to dead-eyes. Theso platforms remained. The hulk would souse them hissing and lift them seething and :treaming, but through long intervals they would sway dry with pendulum 1eul . “The mwain chzins will be your only chance, sir,” said one of the ses. men. “Am I 1o go on board with ye?” “If you will.” “Then, Tom, wken we're out of it shove off for God’s sake, and keep clear of them chains. If they come down upon you, your life and the boat #in’t worth a drowned cockroach.'’ Watching bis chance with great patience, Captain Parry sprang. He stumbled, but with a wild flourish of his arm brought his arm safely to *“ He r Ighness the Duchess taught me how to behave myself in the eyes of royalty when I was a young ’un, and thisis how it’s done,” said he, giving Captain Parry a shove that drove him some feet from Miss Vanderholt. as dark as a new bronze coin, exclaimed: ‘There’s something white right aft jammed away aown under them stern sheets.” It was immediately wanted, of course, but the man with the boathook could not get at it and keep a hold of the boat, too; so another man jumped in and brought up a pocket handkerchief. “It's a lady’s,” said the mate. “It’s Miss Vanderholt’s,” exclaimed Captain Parry, observing a small “V. V.” in the corner. Two or three marxs of blood stained it, as though the lip, nose or ear bad slightly bled. *“What does it betoken 2’ said Captain Parry, looking at the handker- chief and speaking soitly, as though to himself. “If it isa memorial, why in God’s name should it come to me blood-stained "’ They got the boat aboard, all hands, including Parry, pulling and hsuling at the tackles. When she was chocked a course was shaped for the derelict brig according to the instruction of the masthead man. It was a time of thrilling anxiety for Parry. The handkerchief was no war- rant that the girl had been in the boat. They might have bound her and drowned her at the side of the schooner and yet a handkerchief of hers might have found its way into the boat. The hand kerchief, then, proved nothing. Nevertheless Parry found a sinister significance in the blood marks. Was not this blood-stained token most tragically portentous as the only relic or memorial of bis love that the sea had to offer him? He looked at it and in the wildness of his heart he made a meaning of it—it was a farewe!l to him, a message mute and eloquent; it said to him that her father was slain and that she was lost to him forever. Thus he stood interpreting the thing. Sbortly afier 1 o'clock the derelict was in view right ahead. The tele- scope then easily resolved her. She was & small black brig, with her lower masts standing and bowsprit gone. She sat tolerably high, bu t uniron belaying-pin in the rail above. He seized another hard by and lifting his knees to the rail gained the deck. He stood holding on. The peculiar jerky rolling of the hull threat- ened to throw him, until a minute or two of sympathetic feeling into-the life of the fabric should have put some government of It into his legs, ‘The sailor had easily followed. Captain Parry was looking at the forepart of the vessel, which was a horrible Iitter and muddle of hsaped up timber and smashed caboos when his companion muttered in his ear in a low growl, *My God, ma: ter, there’s a living man.” A living man it was, stanaing right in the door of the deckhouse. He was a seaman, and carried a strangs face to those who looked at him, though one might have said he should be familiar enough to anybqdy belonging to the schooner Mowbray. He was James Jones, the boatswain of the yacht. His cheeks were gaunt and grimy, and his eyes blazed in their hollows. His hair lay in sireaks over his ears and down the back of his bead, as though to repeated greasy tuggings and pullings. He was witbout his coat, and his great muscniar arms were bare to above the elbow. Captain Parry recoiled a step, thrusting his hand into the pocket where the pistol lay. He suspected this man to be one of the eight, and that the seven would burst out in a minute. “I'm d—d if ye ain’t come just in the nick of time,” said Jones, and his grin and exhibition of yellow fangs, and bhis dirty skin and flaming eyes made his face horrible. “I tell ye what I've just found out. There ain’t no death. How do I know that? says you. Why, ye see, a man n’t dead till he dies, and when he’s dead death ain’t got no existerce for him. D’ye see it?’ said he with an inimitable teer. vaptain Parry saw that he was mad, but in the moment of detectingl his he observed something more. Behind the madman, looking over his 0ld Ironsides. 1t was “Old Ironsides” that, after the in- 1812, led off a series of splendid victoriesat sea. The honor of the first capture of a | CONStitution the Constitution destroyed the Guerriere. Buu the Essex carried’ thirty-two guns, tle British craft were compelled to quit their zuns, and within eight minutes to f on was gained over a craft nearer | tilus had struck to an English squadron, British war vessel undoubtedly belongs to | 1eF own size and strength. But, while | being the the Essex, Captain David Porter, whoee de, | Y1¢/ding the laurels of priority to the gal- | either side. Under these untoward cire feat of the Alert occurred six days before lant Essex on this score, the Constitution, | cumstances, under Captain Isaac Hull, can claim them again for success in a trial of seamanship | ron lel by the Africa, a 64-gun sbip. | th squadron of warships, whereas our Nau- fitst warship captured on Constitution, returning | zrom Europe, fell in with a British squad- suers. 2and the Alert only eighteen; so that very | between herself and a British squadron. | During four days she was chased by this | sea in that war. soon after opening fire the crew of the lit- | Till then affairs were looking gloomy for | squadron. Through calm and through l | us at sea as well as on land. The British | breeze the flight and :he pursuit went on. & : frigate Belvidere, while convoying = fleet | At one time she had uo.isout towing her; suspicious opentng on land of Lte Wee of | Strike their flag. This victory, though grat. ‘ of merchantmen, had escaped from a whola 1 at another time her crew were hauling ifying, was inevitable; whereas tbat of the a upaon a kedge anchor that had been car- ried out and dropped a long distance ahead. On the fourth day the longed-for wind came, and, with every sail set, the Constitution drew away from her pur- Some of the historians describe tas the first of our triumphs on the | by the But in our time, of course, the fame of the Constitution is more familiarly asso- cisted with her capture of the Guerriere. It was on August 19, 1812, tnat the two vessels met, both eager for a fight. The scene was off the coast of Massachusetts. Thne British craft was first to open fire, but Hull manguvered his vessel into the right position before he replied. The enemy’s mizzenmast soon went board, followed by her mainmast. When she struck colors she was so completely used up that she minad. tion was a liitle the larger, the two ves- sels were nearly enonghs matched for the | 20 the Java, too, had to be blown up. [t victory to produce a tremendous impres- | sion on both sides of the ocean. Alison | Ameri describes the ‘“sbock of this unwoated | Java had been literally picked to p naval disaster” in England, where the be- Lief that Britannia ruied the wave was so profound that the American navy had seemea & mere mouthiful for her. In the same year the Constitution, under shoulder, stood Miss Vanderholt. She was robed in white ani wore a small straw hat. Sne was pale, as though exhausted, perhaps f-om the want of food or drink; otherwise, but for her impassioned, transfceming gaze, she looked as though she had but now come with Captain Pary to view the wreck. : +0b, Violet, my dear one, Violet, I have found you,” cried Perry, and he rushed toward her. 5 She shrieked, standinz still and clasping her hands and looking up to God. “There's no admission 'ere,” roared tne madman, barricading the door by extending his arms. “This is a royal yacht. Why don’t you cast your eyes aloft and view the royal standard a-flying? The Prinoess Victoria is within, Don’t I know her gracious mother, the Duchess? I'm an Enghsh sailor, and I'm loyal to my native country. God save the King.” Saying which he turned and bowed with every mark of profound veneration to Miss Vanderholt. *“Let me pass, man,” cried Captain Parry, pulling out hisrevolver and bustling the poweriul fellow. g *‘Hide it!” screamed Violet. *He is mad. He has been kind to me. Ob, God, George, sm I dreaming? lsityou in the flesh, or am I mad, too?” She put her hands to her eyes, and reeled to a stanchion,against which she leaned. The madman continued to barricade the door, both huge arms extended. ““Look here,” cried Parry almost as mad as the seaman he confronted with impatience, infuriated by this hellish lunatic obstruction, wild to clasp the girl whose reel and motion of hands had stabbed his beart, “‘we want to get at this young lady at once to take her on board yonder schooner. Make way, for God’s sake. I’ll hear all about your views on death when we're comfortable aboard the vessel.” “‘There’s no blooming man,” shouted the madman, “a-going to ap- vroach the Princess Victoria without falling down upon his bended knees and crawling to her feet as the custom is at St. James Palace.” Miss Vanderholt went into bysterics. She shricked with langhter, she sobbed as if heart was breaking. “I think you'd better go down upon your knees, sir,” said the sailor who had accompanied Parry. *Here, my lad,” said he, crooking his tinger into a fishhook at the man. *You just make way for the gent to crawl to her gracious ’ighness, and while he's kow-lowing give me that there yarn of yourn about death.” He winked at the capuin, who sank uvon his knees. The scene was grotesque, tragic, extraordinary. The boatswain watched the figure of the captain with fiery suspicion while he passed on all fours through the door of the deckhouse. Miss Vanderholt was still in hysterics. “Damn the rufiian, I can’t stand it,” shouted the captain, and he sprang to his feet and clasped the girl. Miss Vanderholt lay in her lover's arms weeping and lsughing, but a_ few kisses and murmurs of devotion produced a sood effect. She con trolled herself and then they were able to talk in swift questions and eager answers. .~ Qutsidge the mad sailor continued to argue with the sailor on the subject of death. “There ain’t no death,” be roared, with all the strength of his throat. “D'ye call it a good job, man? Here stands the man as has got rid of the terror of the world. Hark you, bully. Ye can turn in now without fear- ing to die. IvIl do away with prayers, for there ain’t no death.” ““Let’s get away from t:is wreck,” said Parry, clasping the girl’s hand. “Yet, what a wonderiul meeting,” he cried, devouring her with his eyes. “What a miraculous deliverance. Gh, the hand of God isin it, and I am grateful—I am grateful.” They moved toward the door, and the madman saw them coming. “‘Look here,” he cried, making for them in a jump or two, With an air so menacing that Pary's hand instantly sought bis pistol. “No man walks alongside the Princess Victoria aboard this royal yacht. Her 'izh- ness the Duchess taught me how to behave myselfin the eye of royalty when I was a young 'un, and thisis how it's done,” said he, giving Cap- tain Parry a shove that drove him some feet from Miss Vanderholt; then, stepping in front of the gir, he bowed low, with all those marks of abject veneration which bad distinguished his former obeisance, and saying, “If your ’ighness will now step out,” he moved backward; but a long plank lay athwart his path; the captain and the seaman saw what was to happen; the madman fell heavily backward over it. “Bring the boat alongside, Jim,”” bawled tbe sailor. “This is the ryle yacht. Seethe standard a-flying? The Princess Victoria is aboard, and we’ve got Lo back her into the boat, according to the custom of the court of St. James Palace.” The boatswain was up again, and, flourishing his hand, he cried, “Right! Right!” “You leave him to me, sir,’”” said the sailor with a look at Captain Parry, who was absolutely ata loss. He would not for a million have shot the unhappy madman, and yet he durst not approach Miss Vander- holt while that huge and brawny lunatic watched him. The seaman in the boat concluded that his shipmate had lost his What the blooming blazes, he thought to himseif, is Bill a-jawing about with his ryle yachts and ryle standards? And he looked right up into the sky. “Stand by now, Tom, to receive her ryle "ighness,” shouted the sailor, with a glance at the madman. *‘As her 'ighness must go first, there's no barm, I hope,” said he, *in walking face foremost 2" “'She always do,” shouted the boatswain. ‘“Bow her to the rail and hand her over.” Nothing ceuld have been betier. . The swell gave them a gooa deal of trouble; but two of them were sailors, and presently Miss Vanderholt was in the boat. Captain Parry sprang into the chains and, watching his op- portunity, leaped, and was by his sweetheart’s side in a minute. ‘fhe madman overhung the rail, staring greedily. He knuckled bis brow as one who would drive a pain out of his braig, then began to iaugh when Captain Pary sprang into the boat, and talked to himself. “Bring him aloag, Bill. You lay he’ll know what to do,” cried the sailor in the boat. *‘Her ryle 'ighness commands you to attend her, sir,” sajd the sea- man. “Step right over the side into the chains, and don’t jump back ward.” The boatswain dre w bimseif st fily erect, and after gazing aloft at the vision of the siandard, which blew in rich folds under the swelting clothes to bis insane eye, he exclaimed, *“Who's going to look after her ryle ’high- ness’ yacht if I leave her?” “Sne’ll lle quiet enough, mate, till you return,” said the sailor. “Hark. Her ryle 'ighness is a-calling of you.” *‘Pray, attend upon me. I command your presence in this boat,” cried the girl in the loudest, most imperious voice her condition would permit her to maaage. The poor creature bowed low over the rail, then in silence dropped into the chains, followed by the sailor, and in a minute or two both were seated in the boat. All went quietly. The boatswain shifted restlessly in his seat with & grin of superstition. His burning eyes rolled over the Mowbray, and again and again he pulled his hair with hands that sweated like tallow. Miss Vanderholt’s first exclamation when she was handed over the side was “My father, my poor father.” And then she began to cry. The dreadful scene rose before her mental vision and she shook with old sen- sations of terror. Captain Parry, passing his arm through hers, gently and tenderly led her below. She had been too much moved to address Mr. Blundell, and, for a little while, she needed the privacy of the cabin and her lover's company. Presently, while they sat below, she told Cap- tain Parry the story of the mutiny and her adventures up to this hour. It seems that some of the men ‘were for going away at once in the long boat after scuttling the yacht. Others were for letting ker lie afloat, but all agreed that she must be abandoned. Then Miss Vanderholt found out that they were undecided what they should do with her. Most of them, sbe gathered, were for leaving her in the yacht to take her chance of being picked up. “Why not ? said they. “We can shorten sail for ber before we leave. We can lash the helm amidships. She's got plenty to eat and drink. She can’t come to hurt in these waters and is bound to be rescued.” But the boatswain, who had grown ferocious in temper, and had manifested many symptoms of insanity, swore that she should not be abandoned to her fate. She was 2n English woman—he was an English seaman. By God, he would brain any man who talked of leaving the poor young lady alone, to wash about in the schooner. She told Captain Parry that this Jones overawed the men, and they seemed to treat him as though his madness made him superior to them- selves. The boatswain next morning went quite mad and took Miss Van. derhoit to be Princess Victorie. He bowed humbly to her in the boat; he would sometimes kneel to her. He whipped a straw hat off a man’s head 10 shade her with. His hallucination was fortunately a sober one.. He sup- posed the men tobe the crew of the cutter of some royal yachtor other, and himself in command, seeking the vessel that her gracious highness, as he frequently called, might sail round the worid. When they fell in with the derelict they were exhausted with the scorching heat and the ex- posure by night, and determined to take shelter and rest aboara and sig- nal for help, if belp should heave into view. They emptied the loag boat, put that same evening of their entering the derelict, about an hour before sundown, a small brizantine leisurely came flapping down upon them and seven men entered the long boat and rowed for her, leaving the boat. swain and the young lady to their fate. Not long afterward it was discovered that this brigantine wasa Frencaman; that her crew had mutinied and sent her captain and mate adrift, and that, though they perceived the tigures of the boatswain and the young lady on the brig, yet, on the Mowbray’s men telling them that one could bear witness to the mutiny and that the other was a dangerous madman, they put up their helm and sailed away. Belore the set of sun the Mowbray was heeling toa fresh breeze, every cloth that could draw was driving her cutwater through it, and her clip- per stem rose the white brine ravinz to her hawse pipes. She seemed ike those on board to have got the scent and fo know thatshe was going home. THE END. coula not be taken into port and had tobe | Bainbridge, gained another great victory blown to pieces. Although the Constitu- over the Java, off the coast of Brazil. This victorv was as complete as the preceding, was a great exhibition of good seamanship and superior gunnery on the part of the can vessel; for, as Coopersays, “The e shot, spar following spar, until mS’ifii not one left.” Her loss in killed nnd wounded was very heavy. Finally, in 1815, under Commodore Stewart, the famous old ship made a double capture of tha British frigate Cyane and the :Toop Levant.