IBiiiii 00024041626 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA ENDOWED BY THE DIALECTIC AND PHILANTHROPIC SOCIETIES PS2359 C3 This book is due at the LOUIS R. WILSON LIBR. last date stamped under "Date Due." If not on ho) renewed by bringing it to the hbrary. DATE DUE RET. DATE DUE THE CABIN BOY'S STORY. ! THE 'SLAVER DISABLLO BY CffAP XV/7. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2015 https://archive.org/details/cabinboysstoryseOOmait CABIN BOY'S STORY: A SEMI-NAUTICAL ROMANCE, FOUNDED ON FACT. dt the author op the ** pirate doctor," "the lawyer's story," *'the old doctor," etc., etc LONDON: MTLNER AND COMPANY, PATERNOSTER ROW. PREFACE. A PHEPACE Is generally considered to be a necessary ap- pendage to a book. It is true that some readers pass it over with a psha! indicative of contempt; nevertheless, there are others who would consider a book incomplete without it. In the following story the author has endeavored, under the garb of fiction to embody various romantic facts, which have come under his notice in the course of his early wan- derings. He does not pretend to insult his readers by as- serting that he has strictly adhered to literal facts. The veriest tyro in romance reading would know that this were impossible, even if it were desirable. No person, even in recounting historical truths, can adhere to the letter of actual fact. Such and such things he may know to have occurred at certain periods. It rests with him to show in what way they were brought about ; to relate a conversation here, to speak of a fact which happened there, and, so to speak, to dovetail the fiction and the fact together in such a manner that the one may reasonably bring about, or explain the cause of the other, and according to the skill with which he has efifected this, depends the excellence of his work. Whether or not, in the present instance, the author has succeeded, he leaves to the judgment of his readers. With regard to the plot of the story, the following explanations as to the origin of some of the characters may be accep- table. Some years since, it was the fortune of the author to fall in with a sea captain whose characteristics he has endea- voured to portray in his delineation ofseymour. This er- ratic individual commanded a ship of his own, and during his early peregrinations he had fallen in* with, purchased, educated, and eventually married a Greek girl, almost literally under the circumstances detailed in the narrative. Guided by eccentricity in all his actions, he resolved, as much as possible, to isolate this lady from society, and he V PR-PFACB. actually kept her for many years almost secluded from tlie world. The author met her on board her husband's ship, and was much delighted by her extraordinary personal beauty and the innocence and amiability of her disposition, as was every one who saw her. She, some few years after her marriape, came to an untimely end, and her husband, who really loved her to distraction, did not long survive her. "With regard to those portions of the story which illus- trate the method of slave-dealing on the African coast, the author has merely presented disconnected facts in a con- nected manner. King Kettle and the Loango chiefs, are living illustrations of the native slave-dealers on the coast, and their portraiture is drawn from life— ** nothing ex- tenuate." As to the character of Mr. Mordant, the author has en- deavored to portray the vraisemblance of one of those men b^ no means scarce in our community, who, while professing to be actuated by philanthropy in their hatred of the system of southern slavery, and their open admira- tion of abolitionism, are really and truly interested in the procuring slaves for the Cuban market, and it is a well- known fact that vessels have cleared from this and other ports, with false papers, whose destiny was to the coast, for the purpose of procuring negroes. The author has not ventured to discuss the question of slavery, as it at present exists in this country. He is fully aware that all argument on that subject is vain, and that very much evil has arisen from the ill-directed zeal of Abolitionists, whose efforts only seem to exasperate the slaveholder, and to bind faster the fetters of the slave. Slavery as it at present exists in the southern portion of this Union is an evil that can never be eradicated by vio- lent diatribe, and it is equally as certain that the efforts made to prevent the kidnapping of negroes from Africa, have led and do lead still to greater hardships being in- flicted upon the unhappy wretches thus ruthlessly torn from their homes, although the use of steamers upon the coast has rendered of late years, the practice of slave- catching more hazardous than it has been heretofore. The Cabin Boy in this narrative has told his own story, very little varnished or exaggerated ; he has had little oc- casion to do so ; for to use a hackneyed yet veritable phrase, "Truth is strange— strangar than fiction." "With this explanation he gives the story to his readers. JVcu? York, August Ut^ IS^ii. CONTENTS. PAOB CHAPTER L Ho I for California— Shipping Hands for the new El Dorado T. 11 CHAPTER II. The reader is introduced to a New York merchant an d hi s family. The mysterious disappearance of Jane Miller 18 CHAPTER ni. The Alhatross sails from New York, and the secret ohject of her voyage becomes known 25 CHAPTER IV. Showing how the slave-trade is maintained, and expos- ing the heartlessness engendered by fashion 43 CHAPTER V. The origin of the Cabin Boy, and a brief history of his family — ^leaving more to be explained hereafter 63 CHAPTER VI. The Albatross on her voyage — Harry is startled by dis- covering a locket containing the portrait of a beau- tiful female in the captain's cabin, and discovered the original in the recluse of Annabon G4 CHAPTER VII. A letter from a correspondent of Mr. Mordant's at Sierra Leone — ^Another anonymous letter received by tho "Widow Miller— A letter from Captain Seymour, de- nj^ng any knowledge of the abduction of Jane Mil- ler—Some account of the widow's fatjoily— Charlei vii CONTENTS. PAGE Mordant endeavors to obtain money on the security of his expectations 84 CHAPTER vin. Which introduces the reader to Zuleika's abode on the Island of Annabon — Interview between Captain Sey- mour, King Kettle, and the Loango chiefs— The Tunga Jagos woman and her children— The infants cast to the lions in the canebrake „ 92 CHAPTER IX. The birth and parentage of Seymour — His first meeting with Zuleika in the slave market at Constantinople —He resolves to educate and then to marry the Greek girl— The deception of Antorine Dichet and the con- sequences thereof— Sejnmour engages in the slave- trade— Marries Zuleika and finds her a secluded home on the Island of Annabon 106 CHAPTER X. Zuleika's bower — Harry Davis's secret is by accident discovered by the Greek girl 122 CHAPTER XI. Captain Junot relates his mishaps in consequence of falling in with a cruiser — Captain Seymour visits Annabon— The secret is kept from him— Harry is left with Zuleika— A slave drove — ^The Tunga Jagos woman and the lions in the cane-brake — Seymour nearly catches a Tartar 133 CHAPTER Xn. Frank Martin's dangerous escape from the slaver— His rescue from the wreck by the G frigate— Miss Herbert is introduced to the reader 150 CHAPTER XIII. The origin of the mystery of the rings IG3 CONTENTS. ix PJLGX CHAPTEB XrV. Showing how Mr. Mordant obtained possession of the widow's property 170 CnAPTERXV. The mystery of the recluse of the Island of Annabon... W CHAPTER XVI. A surprise and somewhat of mystery arising out of the visit to the white lady of Annabon, and still more mystery aiising out of the interview. 193 CHAPTER XVn. Junot*s diabolical vengeance — A pampero disables the slaver, which is captured by a cruiser, and Junot and his crew are carried to Sierra Leone to take their trial 211 CHAPTER XVm. Mr. Mordant's troubles increase — He meets with a se- vere domestic affliction 230 CHAPTER ITTX. Which treats of strange matters 237 CHAPTER XX. The reader is introduced to Zuleika*s new house 241 CHAPTER XXI. The meeting with Marca— the ancient sybil ol tho Archipelago, and her daughter Zoe 244 CHAPTER XXn. The return of Charlotte Herbert, and her introduction into Mr. Wilson's family— What arises therefrom... 254 X CHAPTEB XXTTT. Captain James is rewarded for his kindness to tlie Yunga Jagos negress , 263 CHAPTER XXIV. Some further mystery leading to an unexpected denounc- ment, arising out of the rings 270 CHAPTER XXV. The birth of Zuleika's infant~Some account of the pa. rentage of Zuleika 279 CHAPTER XXVI. In which King Kettle shows that he possesses as great skill in diplomacy as more civilized potentates— Mr. Mordant hears more unwelcome news, and receives a visit from the Yankee mate Tolcroft , 283 CHAPTER XXVII. Prank Martin returns home, and has an interview with Seymour, during which some strange revela- tions are made • 303 CHAPTER XXVm. Which describes various unexpected interviews 318 CHAPTER XXIX. Seymour's first sight of his child — Jane Miller discovers herself .to Seymour 332 CHAPTER XXX. Marie makes her escape from her guardian, and is res- cued by Captain de Sylva— The interview between Abdallah and Zoe— The gale in the iEgean Sea— The meeting of De Sylva and Seymour— Zuleika begs hei husband to become a Christian— The death of Zuleika and her child. • THE CABIN BOrS STORY. CHAPTER L Ho 1 for Califomia — Shipping Hands for the new El Dorado- The astounding discovery of the auriferous treasure buried beneath the soil of the long-considered barren desert of Califomia, created an unwonted stir amoDgst the shipping in the port of New York, as well as in every other port in the United States; for every merchant, who could by any means manage to do so, was eager to possess himself of a share of the almost fabulous wealth then for the first time laid bare to the cupidity of mankind ; consequently all the ves- sels that could be obtained, were readily freighted for the shores of the "land of golden promise." Freights increased in value— there was a rise in seamen's wages— a scarcity of seamen for every other destination, and a proportionable increase in everything connected with the shipping interest. One fine summer's evening, shortly after the news had burst upon the world, and men had satisfied themselves that they were not dreaming or listening to an exaggerated story, there was an unusual bus- tle in a well known shipping oflBice for seamen, in the vicinity of the East River; for the proprietor had within a few days received almost unlimited re- quisitions from divers ship-owners and masters, to procure crews. The office was thronged to excess with seamen, " Outward-bounders," as, in nautical parlance, Jack is termed, when he has run his tether 11 12 THE CABIN boy's STOET. to its full length ashore, and having spent the hard earned wages of months, and sometimes of years, in a few days, himself snubhed by his landlady and looked shy upon by the fair, but frail nymphs, in the sunshine of whose favours he so lately basked. But, strange to say, there was not that seeming anxiety amongst the men to get a berth, almost with- out regard to the place of their destination, that was customary when the throng was so great. The hardy fellows rather seemed to hang back — albeit, they had not " a shot left in the locker"— and to feel a desire to pick and choose with all the nicety and independ- ence of a cautious Homeward bounder," determin- ed to take warning from past follies and mishaps, and go to sea again before his pockets had been drained by land sharks in the shape of landlords, tavern keepers, sharpers, long-shore-men, cyprians et hoc genus omne. Let us listen awhile to what was going on, and we may be able to understand how this happened. A stout, burly, black whiskered, weather-beaten, and yet, withal, good-tempered look- ing man, walked into the oflSce, elbowed his way through the crowd of sailors, and approaching the shipping master, said, " Good morning, Mr. Sharply, — have you my crew all ready P We haul out at four o'clock this afternoon, and I must have the men all on board by that time." " I am sorry to say, captain," replied the shipping master, "that there are six hands wanting yet. 'Pon my word, in all my experience I never saw such a difficulty in procuring sailors for these northern voyages." Then, raising his voice, and addressing the assembled seam fen, he shouted — *^Now, lads, who's for a trip to Antwerp in the * Mermaid ?* — Fine ship — A — 1 — good captain — first • rate provisions — tip-top wages, and a capital time of year for the voyage. Six hands wanted, at two dol- lars a month above ordinary wages." There was no reply to these tempting ofifers. Two THE CABIK boy's STOEY, 13 or three men seemed half-inclined to come forward ; but they drew back again — a low conversation was kept up amid the throng for a few minutes, and then all was silent. The captain and the shipping master both looked disappointed, but in the course of a few minutes, the former left the office saying sotto voce to the ship- ping master, as he turned to go away— *' Mr. Sharply, you must get me six men by four o'clock, by hook or by crook— some way or other ; even if you have still to increase the wages." Scarcely had the captain of the Antwerp ship left the office before another captain entered. He saluted the shipping master familiarly, and asked if his crew was ready. Hardly yet," replied the latter smiling, " hardly yet, captain. I only received your order an hour ago — but I shall have no difficulty in procuring you a first-rate crew immediately." Who wants to go to San Francisco," continued ho, addressing the sailors, " I want fourteen hands for the Flj^ng Fish, to sail to morrow morning ?'* Scarcely had the words escaped his lips, before there was a rush to the desk of twice the number of hands wanted, all eager to register their names for the voyage. The requisite crew was soon procured, and it was not until the day began to grow late, and there appeared no more prospect of any fresh calls for California voyages, that any desire was express- ed to ship on board other vessels. Then, however, the men who were left, thrust their hands disconso- lately into their empty pockets, and began to think of the cool reception they were likely to meet with at their boarding-houses, and after some cogitation, reluctantly expressed their readiness to take such chances as still offered themselves, and by this means, the requisite crews for the less popular voy- ages were procured. Tha office was considerably thinned of its num- 14 THE CABIN BOY^S STORY. bcrs; indeed, but very few remaintvl, and most of these rather stayed from curiosity, than from any immediate desire to procure ships, and the shipping master was beginning to think of closing the oflSce for the night, for it was growing dark, when a tall, dark, and exceedingly handsome young man, a sea- man evidently — his bronzed complexion told that — but having the martial bearing of an oflScer of the navy, rather than a merchant captain, entered the oflSce. He saluted the shipping master as the others had done before him, and then put the same question to him with regard to his crew — "No, Captain Seymour," replied the shipping master, "since you are so extremely particular with regard to the crew you wish to ship, I had rather you would pick out the men yourself. If you will call to-morrow, I will have some that I think will suit you on hand, and will then let you explain mat- ters to them. Let me see, you are bound to . "To — Acapulco — and — and to California," re- plied the captain, with a strange hesitation in his speech. " You know the kind of men I want; none of your milksop — half and half fellows — but tho- rough sea dogs— every one of them ; fellows that will stand any hardship, and do any amount of fighting if it be necessary.** " I understand you. Captain Seymour," replied the shipping master; "and I have had my eye for some days past on just such a set of men as you re- quire ; but, as I said before, you had better call in the morning and arrange matters for yourself." ** I will do so," replied the captain ; and wishing the shipping master " Good-night," he left the office. Just before the last-mentioned captain had enter* ed, a young, delicate* looking, but very dark-com- plexioned lad had joined the crowd of seamen. He was evidently anxious to procure a berth, and was about to press forward to the shipping master's desk, THE CABIN BOT's STOET. 15 when, observing Captain Seymour, he was appar- ently seized with a nervous timidity, which had been sufficiently manifest before to attract the notice, and call forth the coarse jokes of the rude seamen who were standing near him, and he shrunk back again in a comer, evidently endeavouring to escape notice. He had not been perceived by the shipping master, and yet it appeared that he had been a previous ap- plicant at the office for a berth, for after the captain had retired, the shipping master, as he stepped down from his desk to clear out and close the office, re- cognised him, and said — **Ha! Davis — you here? I didn't see you before. Wait a moment till I close the shutters. I want to speak with you.*' The lad did as he was desired ; and when the shipping master had closed all up, he returned to his desk, lit a candle, and called the lad to him. " You want to go to California, you say, Davis. I have two or three crews to ship for vessels bound for San Francisco, to-morrow or next day ; be on hand, and perhaps I may be able to get you a berth. You have been to sea before i"' "No, Sir I" timidly replied the lad, "that is to say,*' he continued, I have once made a voyage to and fro between New York and Liverpool.** " Indeed ! Why, to look at your sun-burnt face, one would have thought you had been a cruise to the West Indies, or some part of the tropics. Well, come to-morrow and I will see what can be done.** " I should like to get a berth on board the Alba- tross,'* said the lad. " On board the Albatross ! Why, my boy, I think you are hardly fitted to make one of her crew. Why did you not speak to Captain Seymour, when he was here just now "iwas afraid," replied the lad, "I wish you would speak for me. I did go and ask the mate, and he told me you had the shipping of the crew." 16 TKE CABIN boy's STOUT. " Why not any other vessel bound to California, as well as the Albatross ?" " I have taken a fancy to go in the Albatross with Captain Seymour," replied the lad, blushing deeply through his bronzed cheeks as he spoke, although the shipping-master did not perceive the blush. " Well, I will do what I can for you, for I like your looks; but I can give you but little hope; however, come here at nine o'clock to-morrow morning, and I will speak to Captain Seyuiour about you. You might answer for his cabin boy, perhaps." The youth left the oflSce, and proceeded to his boarding-house, which was not one of those fre- quented by seamen, but one of a superior sort, where he had had possession of a room for a week. He walked on with hurried steps, holding his head down, and striving apparently to escape notice. The shipping master observed this, for he had closed the office and was following the youth at a short distance. ** There is something mysterious about that boy," he said to himself — **It's my belief he's running away from home. His looks show that he comes of a better class than sailor boys in general. Some young scamp. I suppose, who has taken a freak into his head, which a rough voyage or so will soon put out again ; however, he's a smart-looking boy — strange he should so particularly desire to go in the Albatross. I should hardly think he would be of much use on board her; still I'll give him a chance." On the following morning, according to appoint- ment, the captain of the Albatross called at the ship- ping office and selected his hands, and a hard, ill- favoured looking set they were, and an uncommonly numerous crew the captain shipped. When at length he was satisfied, the shipping master directed THE CABIN boy's STORY, his attention to the boy, who had called as he had been directed on the previous evening, but who, notwithstanding his anxiety to ship on board the Albatross, had kept himself in the back-ground, as though he shrunk from the ordeal of examination. " Oh, by the bye, captain, now you are satisfied with your crew, do you think you can find room for this lad ; he has a particular desire to sail in the Albatross." " I don't think he'll be of much service to me," replied the captain, *' I want no more hands on board my ship than can catch mice." He was turning away when he appeared struck with some- thing in the appearance of the boy, for he gazed at him earnestly and inquired, " What is your name, boyP" ** Henry Davis, sir," " Well, Henry, I may want a lad to mix my grog for me, in fine weather. I don't suppose for some time to come, you'll be of much use; but I will give you a berth as cabin, boy. What say you — will that suit you ?" " Yes, sir," replied the youth, his eyes beaming with delight, " I shall be glad to accept the berth." " Well, then, be in readiness with the rest of the crew this afternoon; or stay, is your kit all ready ?" "Yes, sir." "Well then, go on board at once, and tell the mate I sent you," The youth did as he was desired, and in the evening of the same day the Albatross was hauled out into the stream. Two or three loungers on the pier wondered to themselves what a vessel bound to Acapulco and California, needed so many water casks for ; for at the very last moment a barge load of "shakings," as staves and hoops for the manu- facture of casks are called, was taken on board ; and other remaiks were made respecting the number of the crew ; some said, jokingly, that the captain 18 THE CABIN boy's STORY, meant to fill the casks with gold dust — and one or two knowing fellows whispered that they had heard there was no insurance upon the vessel, which was strange for so fine a ship; but the Albatross was soon out in the stream, and the loungers and look- ers-on returned home. CHAPTER II. The reader is introduced to a New York merchant and his family. The mysterious disappearance of Jane Miller. A FEW weeks prior to the date of the occurrences recorded in the preceding chapter, a large party was assembled at the splendid residence of an extensive and wealthy ship-owner, situated in one of the most fashionable localities in the upper portion of the city. Seated on a sofa at one end of the large apartments that was thrown open for dancing, were two young ladies, daughters of the merchant, whom we will call Mordant. Near them were two other ladies, one of whom had just left off playing on the piano-forte, and the other was engaged in languidly turning over the leaves of a Book of Beauty, which lay upon a side-table near by. " I am glad you've found time to stop jingling away at the piano, Ellen," said Sarah Mordant, the elder of the sisters to her cousin, Ellen Urquhart. "Come, now, give us your opinion of Captain Seymour. Isn't he handsome ?" "He is a charming young man," said Ellen, " bo gentlemanly, and such an elegant dancer." " And what a sweet moustache, and what lovely black eyes and curly hair he has," said Adeline, the other cousin, whose interest in the Book of Beauty seemed to have departed now Captain Seymour had become the theme of her cousin's and her sister's conversation. " I wonder what he can see to admire so much in Jane Miller," said Mary, the younger daughter of the Eerchant, joining in the conversation — " I wish THE r,Av.m To\h ?Toi?lr. 15 mamma wouldn't ask Jane here when Captain Seymour is coming— he directs all his attention to her. It's hardly polite." **I saw him waltzing with you to-night, Mary," interposed Adeline. " Yes— just for one waltz, and then back he went to Jane and asked her hand for the next dance. It is so always. I have no patience with him.** 1 can't think what he so admires in Jane,*' said Sarah Mordant; *'I don't think her pretty.'* *' Pretty ! no indeed,'* exclaimed the other ladies, in a breath, and with a toss of their own beautiful heads, and Mary added — " I am sure there are many in the room whose charms quite eclipse those of Jane Miller.** Several gentlemen now came up and solicited the honor of being the partners of the discontented belles for the next dance, and the conversation was for the time suspended. While they are thus engaged we will introduce Jane Miller to the reader, and explain the origin of her intimacy with the beau of the evening— the envy of his own sex and the admired of the fair — the gay, handsome and gallant Captain Seymour. Notwithstanding the remarks of the young ladies in disparagement of Jane Miller's personal attrac- tions, she was, in reality a very pretty girl, of eighteen years of age. She was the daughter of a widow lady at this time on a visit to some friends in New York and its vicinity ; but whose abode was in one of the New England States, near the sea -shore, where she owned a small farm which ensured her a competence, though a very small one. Jane's father, who had been a clergyman, had died when she was still a child, and the widow was left with a son and daughter. The son was the younger of the two, and was, at this period, still at school, studying for the naval service. Mr. Mordant, whose wife was the sister of the late Mr. Miller, (hence the intimacy 20 TlTE CABIN BOY*S SfOIlt. of the family) had promised to procure a midship- man's appointment for the youth, as soon as he had completed his studies. Mrs. Miller was residing at this time near Jersey City, but she with her daughter had been invited to the ball. Captain Seymour was the commander of one of Mr. Mordant's vessels, andfor some reason unknown, was treated by the merchant on terms of equality not accorded to any other captains in his employ. There were many surmises re^rarding the cause of this favor. Some said Captain Seymour was himself a relative of the family ; others, that although captain of a merchantman, he was very wealthy ; again it was said that he bore a commission in the navy. However, though none could correctly define his position, all agreed that he was one of the most gentlemanly and most elegant men they had ever known— full of wit and gfaiety, and capable of ren- dering himself agreeable to ail with whom he came in contact. Consequently he was a constant visitor at all the gay parties given in the neighborhood, and languishing glances were cast upon him by more than one fair damsel. He danced, and flirted and talked with all, but greatly to the annoyance of his fair friends, Jane Miller, the humblest of all the belles he met in this gay society, seemed to be his favorite. It is true that some ill-natured reports got abroad that were prejudicial to the character of Seymour. It was said that he had played the gay deceiver with many a trusting heart; but these reports did not injure him in the estimation of his fair admirers ; indeed they seemed to like him better in consequence, and to dare him to the encounter with their own charms ; — besides, was he not the confidential friend of Mr. Mordant ? and was not that a proof of his respectability and integrity P Several times he had called at the residence of the widow Miller in New Jersey, for the express pur- pose of seeing J ane, and taking her out for a ride THE CABIN BOY^S STORY, 21 with him— and both the mother and the daughtfjjr were proud of the favour he had shown them. Thus matters were progrressing until about three weeks before the period at which we first introduced Captain Seymour to the reader. His visits to Jane became more and more frequent, and it was thought that soraethinj? more than mere friendship was in- tended by these visits. At this period, however, Jane Miller received an anonymous letter written in a female hand, which read as follows : "Lady, beware of the man who calls himself Cap- tain Seymour : he has deceived me and others ; he will deceive you. If you think he wishes to make you his wife, 1 tell you he cannot and dare not. Do not disrej^ard this warning, and you may hear from me again. "One whose hopes George Seymour has blighted." Jane Miller was greatly distressed upon the re- ceipt of this letter, for words stronger than those of mere friendship had passed between her and Sey « mour. She resolved, after much thought and a severe mental struggle, to show Seymour the letter. She would not allow her lover's fair fame to be injured and her own hopes blasted by an anonymous and probably a false and malicious letter, and on their next meeting she accepted his invitation to walk with her as usual, and after some conversation, told him of the letter she had received, and showed it to him. He laughed at it. "A mean device of some of my fair, jealous friends, your rivals for my good grace, Jane,'* said he. " Heed them not; I like you bet- ter than they, and that is the cause of their malice.'* ^ Jane believed him, for her heart inclined her to listen to the denial of the charges preferred against him, therefore, very little protestation on his part ^e^tjsfied her ; (but had she been less infatuated, s^^O 22 THE CABIN boy's STOKY. could but have noted the hollow, tremulous tone of voice in which he spoke. Had she gazed upon his features with an earnest gaze of scrutiny, at that moment she would have noticed the quiver of the muscles of his face and the pallor of his complexion ; but all was over in a moment, and his countenance resumed its composure, his voice its assured and measured tone.) A few days after this, however, Mrs. Miller re- ceived d similar letter to that which had been re- ceived by her daughter, and shortly afterwards Jane received a third letter written in the same hand writing. The mother's fears were aroused, and she forbade her daughter to see Seymour, and for three days Jane complied with her mother's request. She herself had become alarmed, and she refused the Captain's visits. Still her heart refused to cast him off. without further proof than that which a mere letter, the writer of which was unknown, could afford. She listened again to his importunities, and pro- mised, unknown to her mother, who was absent on a visit of a few days' duration to her New England home, to walk out with him and listen to his ex- planations. When, a few days after, the widow returned home, her daughter was not to be found. The widow was in an agony of distress. Captain Sey- mour was interrogated, and he confessed to have walked out with her on the Jersey shore of the river, a few days before, and to have escorted her back to her home, and left her at the door of her mother's house. The other occupants of the house did not recollect seeing her after she left the house with Capt. Sey- mour, but felt no alarm, as they supposed she had gone on a visit to her friends in the city. Seymour appeared as much grieved and shocked as the rest of her friends who had known her. Every ' i|§arcii was i?iade vcl vain \ but it wf^9 discovered by THE CABIN boy's STORY. 23 the widow that her daughter's jewelry had been re- moved, as well as a considerable portion of her clothing; and, as she believed, by her daughter's hand, from the particular articles that had been taken, and the care and caution with which the selection had been made. The Albatross sailed about a week after this ; but, during that week. Captain Seymour called frequent- ly upon the widow, and always expressed great anxiety and distress respecting Jane. Captain Sey- mour had been gone from the port about a week, when the neighborhood of Mrs. Miller's residence was alarmed by a report that the body of a young woman, which had apparently been two or three weeks in the water, and the features of which were so much decomposed as to prevent the possibility of recognition, had been picked up by some boatman, floating near the banks of the river. Some persons who had seen the body, said that the clothing, (what remained of it, for it had been much torn) resembled that usually worn by Jane Miller, and the unhappy widow went to see the body. She thought she recognized the clothing, and also a ring- on the third finger of the right hand, that had been placed there by Captain Seymour in the mother's presence, at the time when she thought the Cap- tain's intentions to her daughter were dictated by feelings of honor, and when she had, therefore, rather encouraged his addresses, little dreaming that she would have been so soon called on to mourn over so melancholy a termination of that daughter's earthly career. But who was the murderer? Did her poor child die by violence or by suicide ? These were the fearful questions that alternately presented themselves to the widow's mind. Perhaps she had, by forbidding her daughter any further intercourse with Captain Seymour, been the cause of the rash act which now placed that daughter's form in its present shape, before her ? Again, it might be that 24 THE CABIN BOY'S STORY. the author of the mysterious letters which she and her daughter had received, was in some way con- nected with the murder ; or perhaps, Captain Sey- moyar was really the bad man her anonymous cor- respondent described him to be. Each of these pro- positions had some weight, but none of them were bufficiently proved to settle the question in her mind. A coroner's jury was summoned, and an inquest was held, and after such evidence as could be brought forward was heard, the jury returned a verdict to the efiect that the deceased came to her death by drowning accidentally or otherwise," and that was all that was known of the matter. Mrs, Miller had the body decently interred. Some time after, a gentleman residing in the neighbourhood, with whom the widow was partially acquainted, in- formed her that he had met her daughter walking out with the captain, about the period of her disap- pearance, and that both appeared to be highly ex- cited. The captain was vehemently expostulating, and the young lady was weeping. He said they were on the banks of the river when he met them, near the spot where the body was found. He hinted his suspicions of Seymour ; but the widow, almost heart-broken, disregarded them. She, too, had her suspicions, and she had spoken to Mr. Mor- dant about 6eymour; but the merchant had given the captain so high a character, that she scarcely knew what to think. She had noticed the state of excitement ho had appeared to be in when he called upon her, after her daughter's disappearance ; but this might either be the excitement of guilt or that of natui'al feeling and anxiety. She, therefore, kept her suspicions within her own breast. Mrs. Miller wore the ring as a memento of her lost child and her sad fate. She could not take any measures calcu- lated to clear up the mystery surrounding her daughter's disappearance, except such as she felt would rake up sad remembrances she would soo^^^er Wt slumber. THE CABIN BOY'S STOEY. 25 CHAPTER III. Tlio Albatross sails from New York, and the secret object of her voyage becomes known. Some days had elapsed since the departure of the Albatross. The ves sel, notwithstanding she had a very light cargo on board, had been so hampered, at the moment of sailing, with goods that had been brought down in a hurry, and were as hurriedly taken on board, that it had occupied all this interval to stow things away in their places, and make everything shipshape. As long as this necessary work was going on, Captain Seymour had displayed great energy, superintending the arrangement of everything himself, and scarcely seeming to need rest. Fortunately, the weather was fair, and the work was effected with greater rapidity than it would otherwise have been, and at the expiration of the period alluded to above, the Albatross wore an entirely different aspect ; she had proceeded to sea more lumbered up than is usual with even vessels employed in carrying emigrants or troops ; in fact, many persons wondered for what cause her departure had been so hurried ; now she presented the neat and trim appearance of a pleasure yacht, or of a ship of war. The utmost cleanliness was observable everywhere, above and below, and her decks were " holy stoned" to an almost chalky whiteness. Every visible piece of metal was polished until it shone like burnished gold and silver, and wherever the paint on her sides or bulwarks had been chafed or smeared, in the hurry and bustle of preparing for sea, the spot was carefully retouched, until not a speck was to be found to mar the exquisite finish of the beautiful craft, within or without. All this labour, however, had been so systematically effected, go apportioned out to the crew, which was, as wo have noticed, exceedingly numerous, that, although ftU were busy, the work did not fall with excessive 26 THE CABIN BOY'S STOET. Beverity upon any one, unless it were on the captain himself. The man-o'-war regulation of "watch and watch" was strictly observed, and every officer and seaman had his share of needful rest. Up to this period the sailors had had little or no opportunity to become acquainted with each other, or to indulge in speculations relative to the voyage, as is generally customary; still it was very evident that some eight or ten amongst them knew more than the others, and they kept their council to themselves. The crew had been divided into " messes," and to each " mess" two or more of the knowing ones had been appointed, not for the purpose, as it appeared, of exercising any authority over the others, still not without some obvious cause for the arrangement on the part of the commander. Another regulation, seldom, however, to be met with except in national vessels, but which waa ob- served on board the Albatross, was the complete se- clusion of the captain from his officers. It is gen- erally customary, however private the captain's ca- bin may be at other times, for the first and second mates to take their meals there, in company with the captain himself; not so on board the Albatross. The crew were divided into three "watches," under the command, severally, of the first, second, and third mates, and these officers "messed" together, in a small cabin partitioned off from the after part of the steerage deck on the starboard side ; while a similar cabin on the larboard side, immediately opposite, was appropriated to the boatswain, carpenter, sail-maker, armorer, and gunner — none of whom were expected to keep watch at night, but who were all required tc be on duty the whole of the day — although the du- ties of the two latter officers seemed merely nominal, and were the source of much speculation and not a little merriment to many of the crew. ** It is necessary that we now endeavor to describe the appearance of the mates, upon whom, now that THE CABIN boy's stohy. 27 the ship was made " tight and trim," appeared to be devolved by the captain, her sole management. The first mate was a tall, sinewy-built, athletic Yankee — a fair specimen, if one might form a judg- ment from his appearance — of the nautical produce, in human form, of Nantucket and Martha's Vine- yard. His age might have been fifty, for his dark hair was slightly grizzled, as were also the bushy dark whiskers, slightly tinged with red, which met beneath his chin and almost concealed his sinewy throat. His face was furrowed with deep marks, and the skin was tanned to a fiery bronze color, which effectually resisted, now, any further action of the elements, and the large collar of his coat was usually turned down over his broad shoulders, ex- posing his brawny chest. His mouth had acquired a permanent upward twist, in consequence of his habit of constantly keeping a plug of tobacco in his left cheek, and from the opposite, downward corner of his mouth, a canal, through which the surplus to- bacco juice constantly flowed on to his chin, had been created by the same habit. The expression of his face, though indicative of recklessness, had not, perhaps, originally been unpleasant ; but constant exposure from boyhood, to freezing winds and scorch- ing heats, and the presence of a suspicious cicatrized wound extending from his brow across his cheek bone to the lower part of the face in front of the left ear, gave him a stern, sinister aspect, that was not calculated to impress the beholder favorably. The name of this worthy was Abijah Tolcroft, and he was as rough and ungainly in his actions and con- versation as he was in appearance, although gener- ally tolerably good-tempered after his own fashion ; but there was one peculiarity in Abijah — he could not endure to be questioned with regard to the scar upon his face, and the unlucky querist who alluded to it in his presence, was sure to arouse his ire, al- though sometimes, h©"^o^ld say to himself, cs^siiall^, 28 THii; CABIN B0"X'S STORY. as though in excuse for its ugliness, that it had boea occasioned by his falling^ forward upon the gunwale of a whale-boat, when he was a mere boy. So much for Abij ah Tol croft, who, from his position, necessar- ily was a prominent personage on board the Alba- tross. The subordinate officers we shall describe more briefly ; the second mate, Edward Allan, was a short, stout young man of about twenty eight years of age ; he possessed a very dark complexion, with regular and handsome features, was lively in dispo- sition and usually good tempered; but liable to sud- den gusts of uncontrolable passion. He hailed from Virginia, but his accent was that of a foreigner, and when carried away by passion, he was wont to in- dulge in terrific Spanish oaths. Many persons sus- pected, although they dared not hint it to him, that he was a Spanish Creole — and that, like a good many sailors he went by an adopted name. Both the above described officers had sailed several voyages with Captain Seymour — but the third mate, Francois Per- rin, a native of Louisiana, born of French parents, and more of a Frenchman than an American, in manners and appearance, had been shipped in New York. Francois was quite a young man, apparently not more than twenty-five years of age ; but of immense stature, possessed of great personal strength, and morose and surly in his disposition. Such as we have described were the officers of the Albatross. The captain's quarters were more retired, and consisted of two small cabins, one of which, the private cabin, was quite in the stem of the ship. It was a very small place, but rendered light and airy by the two stern windows and the large sky- light above ; although a mere closet, it was compact and perfect in every point, and furnished after a fashion that would have done credit to the most refined taste ever shown in the arrangement of a lady's boudoir, A sofa pf c^^:y§4 irosewood, with ffilS CABIir fiOY*S STORlr. 29 crimson velvet cushions and pillows, ran the whole breadth of the stem, and formed a luxurious lounge wherefrom to witness the white foam that the vessel left behind as she cut her way swiftly through the yielding water, or, when crossing the tropics to in- hale the cool breeze and gaze down into the deep, where sported the many-hued dolphin or tha beautifully formed bonito, or to watch the hungry yet timid and cautious shark, as surrounded by its parasites in the shape of pilot fish, it now advanced towards the treacherous bait and smelt it — even touching with its shovel-like snout tho seemingly dainty morsel, and then turned as if seized with sudden fright, and swam rapidly away, again and again to return, each time grown more bold, until at last the fatal grip is made ; for a moment the white belly of the huge monster, as it turns upward to seize its prey, flashes like a phosphorescent gleam beneath the blue water, and then a hurried flight with the line, and a desperate thrashing of the water with the monster's tail, tells that the terror of the ocean is captured by his inveterate foe, the sailor. The rudder pipe was veneered with the finest mahogany, with, gilded satin-wood panels — and behind it, Ijetween the two stern windows, was a book-case reaching from the sofa to the ceiling of the cabin, well stored with handsomely bound volumes, chiefly consisting of poetry and works of imagination of the very highest order, although the lower shelf was devoted to books of science and navigation and commerce, and other subjects connected with the profession of the mariner. In the centre of the cabin, firmly lashed to the floor, was a handsome centre table of highly polish- ed, solid mahogany, and on each side of the cabin were two recesses adapted for sleeping places, which were hidden from view by crimson silk, and muslin curtains tastefully disposed ; curtains of similar hue and material also shaded the cabin windows. The so ffiJ: CABm BOY^S STORY* main portion of the front of the cabin was occnpied by a large mirror, with a gorgeously covered and gilded frame, and in the vacant places round about, hung small but exquisitely finished paintings, while from the ceiling, immediately over the centre table, was suspended a handsome gilded chandelier, with ground glass globes. The deck was covered with oil cloth neatly paint- ed, and over the starboard bed cabin, which was appropriated by Captain Seymour to his own use, hung a pair of richly mounted pistols, and a sabre, carved after the fashion of a Turkish scimitar, en- cased in a crimson velvet scabbard surmounted with gold, of which metal the hilt appeared to be formed. The pistols and sabre, indeed, were the only articles to be seen which would have led the casual observer to disincline to the belief that the cabin had been purposely fitted up for the accommodation of a lady of taste and fashion. From this beautiful little apartment doors on each side of the mirror led into the fore-cabin, used by the captain as a dining cabin, and for general purposes. Here the furniture, though good, was of commoner material, and more appropriate to the generally conceived idea of a merchant ship's cabin. The desk was covered with oil-cloth, as in the after cabin ; but the only light came from the sky-light above, beneath which depended, directly over the dining table, a thermo- meter and barometer. Muskets were placed in racks along the wainscot on either side, and some half dozen ottomans, in lieu of chairs, were ranged around the cabin; and, in a bracket over the companion way, was suspended a large ship's spy glass. There was no other furniture in this cabin, except a small mahogany stand screwed down in one of the aft corners, on which was firmly secured the captain's chronometer. From the fore-cabin the deck was reached from a winding stair-case, forming a semi- circle, around which was the steward's pantry — with a sleeping pUce for that functionary beneath. mv. CABIN BOY^S STOUT, 31 There was, as there are in all merchant vessels, a forecastle cabin on deck, filled with bunks and ap- propriated to the use of the sailors — but after the vessel had been thoroughly set to rights, to the as- tonishment of the united seamen, these bunks were filled up with the immediately required stores of the boatswain, sailmaker, and carpenter, and the men were ordered to swing their hammocks between the decks, man-of-war fashion — and to bring them up every morning, at the sound of the boatswain's whistle, and stow them in the hammock nettings, the " watch below," during the hours of daylight, snoozing on their pea jackets, on the lower deck, or amusing themselves by mending their clothing, and such other employments as generally engage Jack, when at sea. Henry Davis had suffered severely from sea sick- ness during the first few days after the vessel had left the p6rt, and he had been treated very leniently by the captain, or rather had been left pretty much to himself — Captain Seymour's time having been, as we have said, fully occupied. He had been in- dulged with the use of the larboard sleeping berth in the after cabin — where rest for a few days, until he had become accustomed to the motion of the ves- sel, restored him to his general health. It was un- derstood that he was then to occupy the post of steward, which, during his temporary sickness was filled by a lad named Frank Martin, who had been several voyages in others of Mr. Mordant's ships, although this was his first trip in the Albatross. Frank was kind and considerate to his young ship- mate, notwithstanding he was compelled to fultil his duties for him, for he had hitherto been employ- ed wholly as a cabin boy, and his ambition now prompted him to go forward and rough it out with the foremast men, and to learn the duties of a sailor. At length Henry recovered so far as, by the ad- vice of the captain, to go on deck and take an air- ing— S2 tins CABIN boy's story, ' ^ ** And go with him, Frank," added the captain, ; addressing the other lad — ** have a chat with him ' and tell him the name of the ropes and sails; it ■ will cheer the poor fellow*8 spirits up a little, 1 am ; going to read awhile in the after cabin — ^and will ' ring the bell if 1 want your services." I The two lads went on deck together, and after j strolling up and down the quarter deck for a few I minutes seated themselves upon the tafii-ail, and ■ entered into conversation, ** Have you ever sailed with Captain Seymour be- ij fore," asked Henry, or Harry, as he was now called. ] "No : 1 have been six voyages to sea in others of j Mr. Mordant's ships, but this is my hrst trip in the | Albatross." i ** Are they all as handsome ships as this ?*' con- tinued Harry. ' Frank laughed — !i "No, indeed they ain't," he answered. "For ; my part, I don't understand this ship at all — and I ' don't understand Captain Seymour either. I once i went on board a man-of-war, when on a voyage up \ the Mediterranean, and they had just such rules ] and regulations aboard as they have here ; and, an- ! other thing, I can tell you, one half the men don't . seem to know what to make of the appearance of ^ things. I have heard them talking matters over — * and I believe they would ask an explanation of the ■ captain or the officers, if it wasn't for fear of the < others — those rough looking, bearded fellows that j the captain has placed in every one of the new ; fangled " messes" as they are called. These chaps \ hang together, and I believe, though they don't ij say so, that the other men are frightened of them." "Captain Seymour seems to be quite a gentle- ; man," observed Harry. i " A good deal too much of a gentleman for me to 1 understand him," resumed his companion; "1 will J tell you something strange. Do you know that \ TITE CABIN BOY'S BTOET. 33 since the third dny after leaving port we have been steering to the eastward instead of the regular course of California ships ?" " Perhaps the captain and oncers have their own reasons for so doing," replied Harry. " Perhaps they have ; reasons that no one else can fathom, for we are sailing close to the wind, when a more southerly course would give us a lead- ing hreeze; but as to the captain, I suppose be gives the mates orders how to steer ; but 1 never be- fore saw a captain take so little heed of what was going on. He's more like a passenger on board than anything else ; and then, since we have got in- to * blue water,' he togs himself off in a navy un- dress and wears a cap with a gold band. Seems to me that either I've got into an enchanted ship, oi else into a man-o'-war in disguise. I can't under- stand it." The bell in the captain's cabin rang, and Frank descended to learn what the captain wanted. *' Is Harry on deck still, Frank ?" asked the cap • tain. *' Yes sir," replied the lad. " Send him down ; tell him I want to speak to him, and come with him yourself." Ay-ay, sir," responded Frank, as he left the cabin and nejoined his companion. Captain Seymour wants you, Harry," said he, ** you are to go down with me into the cabin." Harry rose from his seat and prepared to follow his young shipmate ; his cheeks flushed, and a slight tremour pervaded his limbs — the boy was naturally timid, and perhaps he feared that the captain, although hitherto considerate towards him, was about to find fault with him for the idle life he had led since he had come on board, while every one else had been so busily employed — he followed Frank to the cabin. The captain was reclin^'ng upon a sofa reading; 383 0 31 THE CABIN boy's STORY Le laid aside the book as the boys entered, and thus addressed Harry — " Have you quite recovered from your sea sick- ness, boy?'* " Yes, sir, 1 hope I have," answered the lad. " And you will be able to do the light duties that will in futnre be required of you in the cabin ?** " I hope so, sir, I will try my best." ** Well, no one can do more. All 1 ask is that ^very one on board this ship shall obey my orders implicitly and without a murmur; then you will find me a kind and considerate master — otherwise, let them look out for themselves. They had better wish themselves in h — 1 than onboard the Albatross." A stern expression, such as neither of the lads had seen before, came over the handsome features of the captain, as he gave vent to this last expression — but it immediately vanished. It made apparently but little impression upon Fiank, but Harry trem- bled to such a degree that he was scarcely able to reply that he hoped he should be able to please him. "Don't be frightened, boy," said the captain, smiling. " I have no doubt you and I shall agree very well together. Consider yourself from this moment installed into the duties of my steward. You, Frank, Mr. Mordant informed me, are anxious to learn a seaman's duties, so I suppose you will be glad to relinquish your post to your successor. VV^oll, you are in the right, boy—I will tell Mr. Tolcroft to appoint you to one of the messes, and I hope I shall hear a good account of you. You can both go now"— and taking up his book again, the captain was soon apparently deeply absorbed in its contents. " Captain Seymour has more spirit than I gave him credit for, in spite of his dandy dress and his white hands," whispered Frank to his companion. *'Tho expression of his face was terrible," an- ewered Harry— still trembling, " I never could THE CAUlN BOt's STOfll. 35 have believed such a change could have come over any one*s features in a moment, least of all— so handsome a face as that of Captain Seymour— I am half sorry I shipped with him," and a deep but ex- pressive sigh escaped from the breast of the boy as he spoke. Frank laughed — " You will soon find out that a handsome face often conceals a d — Vs heart," he re- plied. " You are like a young bear, all your sorrows have yet to come." We have never been able to understand to what particular sorrows a bear is subjected, beyond those natural to all quadrupeds, or bipeds, too, for that matter; but it has been, from time immemorial a common expression amongst seamen ; is, by them, we presume, considered as remarkably witty, and therefore Frank is held excusable in our opinion for delivering himself of it. Harry Davis took charge of the steward's pantry, and Frank Martin went on deck again to commence his new duties. While this conversation had been going on in the cabin and on the quarter deck — a group of seamen, tempted by the fineness of the evening, instead of returning to their hammocks, when the ** watch" was "piped below" had seated themselves in the the head of the vessel, and were amusing themselves Mith their pipes and cozy chat. "Tell ye what it is. Bill," said one, as after knocking the ashes out of his pipe, ho had tempo- rarily laid it aside. ** Tell ye what it is— there ain't none o* them black a vized chaps within ear hail, be there?" — added the man, stopping suddenly, and looking cautiously around. "No — by luck's chance there ain't Dick— what then?" " Have ye got any bacca P" "Yes." " Then give us a chaw — and, shipmates, I'll tell ye a bit of my mind." 36 THE CAEIN boy's ST0T5Y, The quid was supplied, and Dick forthwith de- posited it in his cheek, and giving it two or three rolls over with his tongue, so as to draw out the flavor — thus proceeded. " Shipmates, there's somethin' or other as I can't understand as regards the regulations o* this here craft; blowed if it don't conflisticate me entirely. I've sailed in many a craft in my days. I've sailed aboard * Uncle Sam,' and I've sailed in merchant- men of every sort ; but I never seed sich rummy moves as goes on board this here hooker; d — me if she ain't like a craft as has been metarmorfussed — she's got man-o'-war rules without man-o' -war guns. Then there's the skipper saunterin* about, dressed as fine as a leeftenant, afore he's got used to the swabs upon his shoulders, or a post-captain for the matter of that, while the first mate's as rough and ready a chap as ye'd find aboard a Nantucket whaler ; t'other mates they never hardly speaks to the crew, except it be them black a vized chaps, they're stuck into every mess — and they seems jist as distant with the captain. Now, shipmates, I've got something else to say, I don't pretend to be anything of a schollard, seeing as how I never had more nor a quarter's Bchoolin' in my life ; but a fellow as has been upon the salt water, man and boy, a matter of twenty years or more, doesn't want much book larnin' to know as a East South East course ain't the nearest way to steer to reach the 'Quator, at least, about midships between the African and American shores to get to Californy. It's my opinion as the skipper ain't bound to Californy at all. Then, shipmates, who on 'arth ever see a crew of well on to thirty hands, besides officers, in a small vessel such as this craft is ? b'lieve me, all ain't right aboard, and its our duty to know where we are going to, and what sort of a craft we have got aboard of," then lowering his voice to a whisper, Dick added, " shipmates, its my private opinion as this 'ere blessed craft is either a slaver or somethin' worse." THE CABIN BOY'S STOKY. 37 " But she ain't got no guns aboard," replied one of the listeners. ♦* Not so far as we knows/* replied Dick, " but who among us knows what is aboard and what ain't ; she's got an armorer and a gunner — at any rate, — and I guess guns'll be found when they are wanted." "The skipper don't look much like a slaver captain," observed one of the group — " He's too soft spoken, and too dandified." "If you'd had the trick at the helm, night afore last, Tom," replied Dick, "you wouldn't ha' said that. He and the first mate were a talkinp: earnest- ly together, and the mate, he said somethin' that the skipper didn't seem to like, and blow me, if I don't think it was relating to the crew — however, whatever it was, the skipper looked as savage as ever I seed a man look in my life, and he turned on his heel, and says he : " * We'll see when the proper time comes, Mr.* Tolcroft; I never found the man yet who daro oppose my will,' and away he walked ; puffing the smoke from his cigar like a high pressure inline, as ho strode half a dozen times up and down the quarter deck, and then he dived into the cabin, and I seed no more on him during that watch." ** What had best be done, shipmates P" asked one of the group, after they had sat silent for some mo- ments. *' Why," answered Dick, who appeared to have taken upon himself the office of spokesman for the party; "what I recommends is this; there's on'y ten of them black-a-vized chaps — and there's twenty of us — I b'lieve them to be in the skipper's and mate's secret and we ain't; they may look fiercer with their mustachers and black whiskers and beards ; but they ain't no stronger nor no braver men than we be. I propose, as we makes up our minds to send a * round robin' to the skipper, respect* S8 THE CABIN boy's STORY. fully axin* to know what sort of a T*yage weVe shipped for. If he tells us, so, well ; if not, we must j think o* Bomethin' else — but I goes dead ag*in sail- ing in the dark." One of the men alluded to under the name of black-a-vized chaps" now carelessly joined the group, and the party shortly broke up and went below to their hammocks. A fortnight passed, audit appeared that nothing had been determined upon by the malcontents, since no "round robin" had been sent to the captain. A | greater distance than ever appeared to be observed ) by one portion of the crew with regard to the other, and the symptoms of discontent were noticed by the captain and the mates, but no movement towards an explanation was made. During this period, the wind had come round farther to the westward ; the ship's yards had been squared, and she had made extraordinary progress towards her destination, wherever that might be. The wind had increased to a gale but the ship sped gallantly on before it, and made excellent weather, bounding over the billows like a duck, without throwin g a drop of spray on her decks. The captain, whose listless habits had attracted the notice of the crew, now appeared often er upon deck, and some- times, especially towards nightfall, he carefully scanned the horizon with his spy- glass. Once or twice he remained on deck throughout the whole night, merely taking an occasional nap on the hen- coop, wrapped up in his boat cloak. One of the crew always chosen — although as if by a mere chance order — from the ten men already alluded to, was constantly stationed at the topmast head, on the look-out, and one morning the well known but always startling cry of " sail ho !" was heard. The captain, who had gone down into the cabin to breakfast, was on deck, spy-glass in hand, in a mo- ment. Where away ?" he shouteij to the look-out^ THE CABIK BOY'S STOBY. 39 " On the weather bow , sir ?*' was the reply. «*What does she look like?" I canH make out yet. I can but just see her topsails — the canvas looks white and square. She may be a cruiser." ** Mr. Tolcroft," said the captain, " we are out of the range of any regular traders ; that vessel must either be the craft I am looking out for, or one of the infernal British cruisers. Any way, we had better get the weather gage of her. Brace for' aid the yards, men," he shouted to the crew, for the first time since the vessel had sailed from New York, taking the direction of the vessel into his own hands. The. yards were promptly braced almost sharp up, the vessel careened over to the pressure of the wind, now brought abeam, and the captain again shouted to the look-out aloft — ** How does the strange sail bear now " On the lee beam," replied the man. " Can you see anything more of her ?" •*No, sir; her topsails only are yet in sight." "Mr. Tolcroft," said the captain, "we will keep her on this course for a couple of hours until we have worked well to windward, before we approach her any nearer. We can then do as we please, after obtaining a closer view." Then again addressing the look-out, he shouted, "let me know if the strange sail alters her course, and also as soon as you can distinguish her courses. Mr. Tolcroft," he added, " it would be as well now to get up the guns ; not however, that they will be needed, because, if the stranger should turn out to be a cruiser, I mean to show her our heels, and I should like to see one of the vermin that could touch the Albatross in a breeze like this, and if she proves to be the vessel I expect, why her captain and I will shake liippera together instead ot fighting." * " Would it not be better, Captain Seymour, to ^eak to the men now, a^ore I gives the order 'i^^p 10 THE CABHT 30y's STOEY. time must come. Seems to me there's no time like tlie present," was the mate's reply. ♦* Ah, well thought of, Mr. Tolcroft. Call Allan and Francois aft, and then direct the boatswain to pipe all hands." Thus saying, the captain descended to his cabin and armed himself with the pistols described as hanging above his sleeping berth. Carefully con- cealing the weapons in his bosom, he re-ascended just as the men, some of them still half asleep, were emerging from the hatchways. Allan and Francois were standing conversing with the first mate. ** By gar j" said the latter, in reply to some re- mark of the first mate's, just as the captain approach- ed, and loud enough for him to hear — " By gar! I would make short vork of it ; they should not dare to say dere soul vas dere own. Join us or walk de plank—'* Silence, Francois,*' interrupted the captain, in an authoritative tone. "Allan once got me into a scrape through such brutality as you seem inclined to. Moral suasion is the tiling. There are few cases in which a spoonful of oil will not go further than a quart of vinegar." . By this time the men were assembled, wondering, the greater part of them, for what purpose they had been summoned, yet partly guessing the cause. " My lads," said the captain, stepping forward, " I wish to know from your own lips, whether or not you have found yourselves well treated since you have been under my command V* Ay, ay, sir," was the universal reply. None of the men could have responded otherwise to this question. "Well then," continued the captain, "I shall say but a few words in explanation. I dare say many of you, believing that you had shipped on board a merchant vessel bound to California, have wondered not only at the regulations of my ship, but THE CABIN BOY'S STOBY. 41 also at the course I have thought proper to steer. I aui ^^lad, however, to find that none amongst you have thought it necessary to remonstrate. Had such been the case, it might have led to something unpleasant (laying a stress on the word). I am not in the habit of having my slightest word disobeyed, nor even disputed. My lads we are bound not to California, but to the Coast of Africa—not after gold, but after what will put gold into our pockets, faster than it can be found by the luckiest adventurer in California. The Albatross is bound to the Coast for slaves, which we shall dispose of in Havana or in the Brazils. There are some amongst you who have all along known this. 1 have not thought it necessary to inform the others until now. I wish- ed first to see what you were made of. As seamen, I acknowledge I am proud of you. Your conduct hitherto proves to me that 1 can trust you. 1 am expecting hereabouts to meet with a consort, who will give me perhaps, some valuable information respecting the state of affairs upon the Coast at pre- sent. There is a vessel now in sight which may be the one of which I am in search, or it may be a Britisher. I do not intend to approach much nearer till I am satisfied which it be. Mr. Tolcroft is now about to bowse up the guns which have hitherto been concealed in the lower hold. I have heard some of you joking at the idea of my having a gunner and armorer on board. Well, lads, I have no objections now and then to a harmless joke ; but you will see that henceforward the gunner and armorer will find employment for themselves. ** Now, men, give one cheer to show that you are satisfied, and then to work with a will, and bowse up the guns from below." The men, not in the secret, had listened with amazement; but the confident manner and tone of the captain had pleased them, and certain remarks he had made had shown theui, intuitively, that he 42 THE CABIN boy's STORT. was not a man to be trifled with. We have observed in a preceding chapter, that the seamen had all been picked out by the captain, on account of their ap- pearance, and his belief that they were such as would suit his purpose, though he had confided his secret but to a few, chosen on account of the special truculency of their appearance, and the recommend- ation of the shipping master, who knew them. The novelty of the idea pleased the rest — sailors like novelty ; besides they saw at a glance they could not help themselves, and visions of gain floated before their eyes m the distance. One loud, unanimous shout was the response. We will stick to you, captain, to the last," and under the direction of the mates they proceeded to put the vessel into warlike trim. Harry Davis had heard the speech. He was standing by Frank, who whispered— " I guessed this from the first. I don't care ; but what would my mother say, if she knew I was on board a slaver." *' Good God I" was the reply of Harry. **l8 it possible I Captain Seymour the commander of a slave ship. Can Mr. Mordant be aware of this?" ^'Francois," said Captain SejTnour, as, his harangue concluded, he left the mates and crew to the execution of the orders he had given, and return- ed to the use of his spy-glass, as if he felt satisfied that he had done and said enough. *' Francois, let this be a lesson to you. I see you are inclined to be impetuous ; in nine cases out of ten, impetuosity is not only needless, but positively injurious. Men are to be governed by finnness and suavity mingled. When, as 1 grant sometimes you may, you meet with doltheads too stupid to listen to reason and unable to understand moral suasion, then hit right and left ; kill and slay without compunction ; but such things should bo avoided if possible. Just take a look through your g^lass, Mr. Allan,*' add^4 THE CABIN boy's STORY 42 he, addressing the second mate. " I fancy I can discover the strange ship»s top-g'ant sails." The second mate did as he was requested, and leaving Captain Seymour and his crew keeping a sharp look-out after the stranger, we will close the present chapter, and beg the reader to return with us to the residence of the owner of the Albatross in New York city. CHAPTER IV. Showing how the slave trade is maintained, and exposing the heartlessness engendered by fashion. On the very day week after the Albatross had sailed on her voyage, Mr. Mordant on returning home from his office in the lower part of the city, had taken his dinner as usual with his family, and then, something contrary to his usual custom, had left the ladies in the parlor, and retired to his study, taking with him a roll of documents, which he sat himself down to read carefully. There did not appear, however, to be anything disagreeable in the nature of these documents ; for Mr. Mordant, on entering his study, before he sat down, had lit the globe lamp that stood upon the centre table; then unlocked the door of a small buffet beneath a book-case, and taking therefrom a decanter of Port (Mr. Mordant was a lover of Port wine, and always indulged himself with a few glasses during the evening), he placed it on the table, with a wine glass, then took off bis coat, and taking a voluminous dressing-gown from a peg, he hung up the coat, and wrapped the gown around him : this done, he poured out a glass of wine, drank it oK smacked his lips, and with a smile upon his rather handsome, benevolent looking face, he touched the bell pull, and finaliy threw himself lazily down into the chair. A negro servant jinswered the summons. 44 THE CABIN boy's STORY. " Ned," said the merchant, " bring up my slippers, and the coalscuttle." "Yes, sir," replied the man, and leaving the room, he returned in a few minutes with the articles his master had called for. Put some coals on the fire, Ned ; and, Ned, I expect a gentleman to call upon me this evening. When he comes, show him up stairs.** Yes, sir," a«:ain replied the servant, and Mr. Mordant was left to the perusal of his papers and the enjoyment of his wine. He took things very leisurely ; taking in one hand his gold double eye- glass, he separated the glasses by touching the spring, and applying them to his optics, slowly perused paper after paper. An exclamation of satisfaction, something between a sigh and a grunt, proceeded from his lips as he laid aside the last of his documents and then, after drinking a second glass of wine, he muttered to himself as he sat turning the glasses in his fingers, and gazing at the flickering flames in the cannel coal fire. " Altogether a very well managed piece of busi- ness — very — good — indeed (these last words were uttered slowly). I shall make a capital thing of it, if Seymour only is as lucky this trip as he was on the last. He may lose the Albatross during her next voyage in that case. One voyage has cleared her cost and all the expenses, not only of that, but of the present one. Cautious, and a devilish clever fellow is Seymour, and such a gentlemanly dog withal ; brave as a lion, too ; perhaps a little —just a leetle wild, but merely the hot blood of youth ; it must sow its wild oats. 1 wonder what keeps Grindley ; it's past the hour on which he promised to call." There was a ring at the bell at the hall door, and in a few moments the sound of footsteps was heard ascending the stairs, and there was a rap at the door of the study. THH CADIN boy's STOUY. 43 "Come in," said the merchant— Ihe negro ser- vant entered and announced Mr. Douglass.'* Mr. Mordant never swore in the full acceptation of the term — never even made use of an ill-sounding word excepting when by himself, and then only when unusually elated or depressed ; but a naughty word almost escaped from his lips when the an- nouncement was made by the servant man. (He was almost excusable under the circumstances — he had been on the tenter hooks of expectation, await - ing the arrival of Mr. Grindley, and Mr. Douglass was unexpectedly announced.) However, by a strong effort he suppressed the wicked exclamation, and welcomed his visitor with a smile. " I am happy to see you, Mr. Douglass," said he, rising from his seat, and taking his unlooked-for visitor by the hand. ** Pray be seated. Ned" — turning to the servant — '* place a wine glass on the table for Mr. Douglass. Take a glass of wine, Mr. Douglass— such port as you don't often find, sir — my own importation, vintage 18 14-. Mr. Douglass poured out a glass of wine and drank it, and took the profiered chair. " I have called, knowing your benevolence, Mr. Mordant," said he, " on an errand of charity. Some friends of mine, and yours too, who take great interest in African emancipation, are stirring themselves to raise a fund to enable a free negro in this city to purchase his wife and children from their owner in I^ouisiana. The price demanded is 1,100 dollars, and we have already raised 700. "What sum shall I put down opposite your name, Mr. Mordant ?" "You may put me down for fifty dollars, Mr. 4)ouglass. I am always glad to give my mite in the cause of charity." ^ Very handsome, indeed, Mr. Mordant — very handsome; besides, sir, it is not only your dona- tion, liberal as it is, which pleases me ; but I con- sider the example set to other wealthy men. Your 40 THE CAEIK BOT'S STOUT. subscription will bring others, and amongst us, we shall have the pleasure of serving our fellow crea- tures, the poor benighted children of Africa.** •* I am thankful that I am in a situation to render such assistance," replied the merchant, who was evidently impatient for his visitor to take his depar- ture. Perhaps Mr. Douglass noticed this, for after sitting a few moments, he said— " I see you are engaged, Mr. Mordant. I will not longer intrude upon your time. I am confident that a gentleman so extensively engaged in business I as you are, must have all his time fully employed." ] I am rather busy to-night, Mr. Douglass,*' said j Mr. Mordant, glancing at the papers on the table ; ' * but I shall be happy to see you ai any time. Drop in, in a friendly manner, whenever you may chance 1 to be passing this way." Then shaking his visitor ,| by the hand, he bade him " good-night,** and Mr. I Douglass leit the room, and was shown out by the servant man. "A very obtrusive man, thatDouglass," ' muttered the merchant after he had heard the ser- vant close the street door. " There are fifty dollars ij 1 hrown away. Not that I care for the money, thank | heaven I I can afford that ; and after all, these 4 t liings do no harm ; they help people on in the world | and raise them wonderfully in the estimation of their | friends, and then when one comes to think of it, there \ is charity, real charity, in such donations as these. 5 Here is a poor man whose family are separated from 1 liim, and held in slavery — a few wealthy persons in- j terest themselves, and his wife and children are set j at liberty, and he is rendered happy. Now (again J glancing at the papers on the table) here the case is | altogether different. They will purchase slaves in j Cuba and in the Brazils, and somebody or other will ' bring them from Africa to sell. I fit out a ship for i this purpose; take care that everything on board is ' adapted for the comfort of the poor wretches on the j voyage — and I dispose of them it a great profit to j I - 1 THE CABIN BOT'S 6T0EY. 47 myself, and to all who are engaged in the undertak- ing with me. Very probably I am sowing the seeds of their adoption, or at least the adoption of their offspring into the Christian Church, and fitting them for future emancipation. At all events, Seymour assures me they are slaves to greater tyrants in their own country than they are in Cuba or anywhere else — and, therefore, under any circumstances, I am doing them a service. Then, it may be said, I am evading the laws of my country. So does every- body who fetches a piece of silk or a bundle of lace over the water. Such offences are merely venial. The guilt only lies in the discovery, and that I have taken every precaution against." Mr. Mordant was interrupted in his speciously argumentative soliloquy by a second ring at the door-bell, and in a few seconds more Mr. Grindley was shown into the study. " Good evening, Mr. Grindley," said the mer- chant, rising from his seat, and cordially shaking the hand of his visitor. *' I have been expecting you for some time; I wish you to go over these writings with me to-night, to see that they are ail correct, in order that you may make no mistake in the entries at the Custom House. You are sure these are duplicates ?" I copied them myself, Mr. Mordant, and will take my oath of their correctness." " I am satisfied, Mr. Grindley, and your services shall be well rewarded. There were no suspicions about the non-insurance ?" ^The matter was spoken of," replied Grindley, who) aa the reader will perceive was a clever and cunning, though pliant tool in the merchant's hands — and who was generally supposed to be merely a clerk in Mr. Mordant's employ. " The matter was spoken of, but I effectually silenced any unpleasant remarks that might have been made, by observiDg that you had 80 much merchandise embarked — in so 48 fHE CA15IN boy's stout. many and such, varied channels— that you found it cheaper to risk an occasional loss than to pay the immense sum that the insurance companies would annually draw from you." " Quite right, Mr. Grindley, quite right ; but how will that apply with regard to the Stoi*my Petrel, which will sail for Calcutta on the first of next month. She must be insured, you know." *' Oh, we must make her an especial case. Such a valuable cargo on board, you see; insured by other merchants in diflferent offices, and so much of your own merchandise on board besides, that in this case you think it really advisable to insure.*' "You are a sharp fellow, Grindley,'* said the merchant, laughing. " Let me see — I promised you 1000 dollars if the Albatross came cleverly through her former voyage, and 1000 more if you succeeded in getting her clear off to sea on the present occa- sion. In both cases you have succeeded admirably. Here is a check for the amount, I brought it with me from town to-day" (handing Grindley a paper). "Thank you, sir,'* replied Grindley, "you will always find me ready and I trust able to serve you." " Help yourself to some wine, Grindley,** said the merchant. " By the by,** said Grindley, after helping himself to a glass of wine ; " did you hear of the discovery of the body of a female found floating in the river, near Hoboken, yesterday ?'* " I saw a paragraph to that effect in the morning papers, but these things are of such common occur- rence, I took no heed of it,** — answered the merchant. " The body appeared as though it had been about a fortnight in the water,*' continued Grindley ; " it was a silly thing in me, perhaps! but I couldn't help thinking it might have been the body of the young lady. Miss Miller — who has been unaccount- ably absent from her home about that time.** " Oh. no — impossible I impossible," exclaimed Mr. THE CABIN boy's STORY. 49 Mordant. " Miss Miller is distantly related to our family. I would not have such, a report get abroad for anything, Mr. Grindley." " Then, of course, sir, it shall go no further — but pardon me. Have you any idea whether Captain Seymour knew anything of Miss Miller's abduction, or elopement, or disappearance in some way or other ? They were said to have been very intimate, and he was in her company — near the spot where this body was found — not many days before she was missing." " Mr. Grindley," said the merchant ** the subject of Miss Miller's disappearance is a painful one to me. I beg that you will not again allude to it in my presence, nor say anything to any one about the inquest held on the unfortunate female's body yes- terday, in connection with Mis s Miller's name. Kest assured, however, that Captain Seymour knew no- thiDg of Miss Miller, further than as a friend whom he met at my house, and to whom he paid the com- pliment of two or three calls at ihe house of her mother." "lam aware," answered Grindley, "that the subject must be a painful one. It was mere thought- lessness on my part that induced me to mention the matter. Of course, at your request, I shall be silent upon it in future." "You will find your accounts in following my wishes, in that regard, Mr. Grindley," returned the merchant, " and now I will wish you good night. Mrs. Mordant and my daughters will be getting anxious for my appearance in the parlor." "Good night, sir, and success to the second trip of the^lbatross, and to her gallant commander. Captain Seymour," replied Grindley. " I thank you, Mr. Grindley,** answered the merchant, as his visitor descended the stairs. Mr. Mordant sat for some time silently and thoughtfully gazing upon the fire. There was a gloom upon his brow, which but little comported with nis late 383 D 50 THE CABIN EOY*fe STORY. hilarity. At length he rose, looked most timidly around him, and shuddered slightly, as exclaiming— ** No, no — that could not be— I will not believe it," he descended the stairs himself, and joined the party in the parlor. It comprised on this evening only his own family, consisting of his wife, the two daughters already introduced to the reader, and his son Charles, a young man of about twenty-five years of age, who was nominally studying for the bar, in Boston, but who had for a month or two past, been on a visit to his father and mother. This youth was living a gay life upon the liberal allowance he received from his father, and the credit ho could readily obtain on the security of his future expectations. Charles Mordant rather liked to be thought what is vulgarly called a "fast man," and therefore, he spent more money than was con- venient to himself, and indulged in vices and debau- cheries that were injurious to his health, not so much because he took pleasure in them as to dis- tinguish himself from slow men," whom he, in common with his companions, held in scorn and contempt. He had visited his family with the object of per- suading his mother to induce his father to foot some heavy bills he had incurred in Boston, and on this evening he had succeeded in obtaining her promise lo enlist herself on his side. The old lady doted on her son, and he had persuaded her that his allowance was quite inadequate to his position in life. His private tete-a-tete with his mother had been interrupted by his father's entrance, A short silence ensued, and then Sarah, the eldest sister, by way of starting a new subject of conversation, alluded to the mention in the morning papers of the discovery of the drowned body of a female in the river between Jersey City and Hoboken. Did you see the report in the paper, Charles P** she asked of her brother. THE CABIN I^Oy's STOBT. 51 A slight shudder passed over the frame of the young man, and his face turned pale, as he replied : — I glanced at the paragraph; but I never read Buch things — they depress my spirits and make me nervous." ** Why, Charles," retorted his sister, " one would think the ghost of the woman had passed before your mental vision. My brother Charles frightened by a newspaper paragraph I Ha, ha, ha!" " What a very shocking thing it is when viewed in connection with the singular disappearance of Jane Miller," said Mary Mordant, taking up the subject of conversation. ** Very shocking, indeed ; if the body found in the river was really hers," said Charles, speaking in a tone of forced calmness : but such things happen every day." " Yes, but not in our circle," interrupted the eldest sister. It's so much more dreadful when these things occur in our set." Jane Miller was hardly entitled to that distinc- tion," said Mary. "You know the Millers are so dreadfully poor." "But, unfortunately, Mrs. Miller happens to be one of those terrible bores called * poor relations,* whom one can never get rid of," replied Sarah Mor- dant. " I do desire that the unfortunate occurrence may never be alluded to in my presence," suddenly inter- posed Mr. Mordant, who had apparently, for some minutes past, with diflBculty restrained himself from interrupting i^e conversation. "Jane Miller has disgraced herself— let us forget her, otherwise we may share in the disgrace." " By all means, my dear papa," exclaimed Sarah. " I assure you I never had any great store of love for J ane Miller — the forward, conceited thing I She —-so poor as she was, to think herself pretty I and ^ve herself such airs in company." 62 THE CABIN «OY*S STORY. And then, liow dowdily she always dressed,** said Mary; " I'm sure the silk dress she used to wear at our parties, to which ma would invite her, was quite shabby. I was really ashamed to acknow- ledge her; and — that reminds me, pa," she con- tinued, running to the old gentleman and kissing him, " that you promised to buy me a mantilla as soon as the latest fashion from Paris came out at Madame De La Tour's. They came out yesterday. Now, pa, you must keep your promise — musn't he, Sarah?" " To be sure, and so he will," said Sarah, in her turn drawing near to her father, throwing her arm around his neck, and kissing his forehead. "You are a couple of coaxing minxes," said the merchant, gently disengaging himself from his daughters* embrace; "but your old father will be as good as his word, only let me never hear Jane Miller's name mentioned by either of you." So saying, he placed a roll of bills in the hand of his eldest daughter, adding, laughingly, "Deal fairly with your sister Mary, Sarah." ^ The two girls skipped playfully away from his side, and resumed the seats they had occupied at the table when the old gentleman had entered the room. Charles looked wistfully at the bills ; but, at a sign from his mother, he thought it advisable to keep silent on the subject of money until she had pre- pared the way with his father, and the remainder of the evening was spent in general conversation. Some weeks after this, the merchant received a letter from a correspondent on the coast of Africa, which occasioned him much unexpected annoyance; but we must reserve the details to a future chapter. THE CABIN boy's STORY CHAPTER V. The origin of the cabin hoy, and a brief history of his family— leaving more to be explained hereafter. In a neat little cottage on the coast of Maine, near Camden, Penobscot Bay, there resided, some few years prior to the date of the commencement of our story, a widow lady named Martin. Her husband had been an oflBcer in the United States army; but, for many years before his death, he had retired from the service, in consequence of ill health and infirmity superinduced by the fatigues he had gone through during the campaign of 1812-14 in the course of which he had been twice severely wounded. At the close of the war he had retired to a small property in the locality we have mentioned, which he had inherited from his father. Here his health had rapidly improved, and although already past the middle age, he had, to the surprise of every one, foi he was considered to be a confirmed old bachelor, taken unto himself a wife, several years younger than her husband, who bore him three children, William and Frank and Sarah, the second of whom has already been introduced to the reader on board the Albatross. Lieutenant Martin, ^however, did not live long after the birth of his daughter, and at the period of his death, the eldest boy, William, had but just attained his tenth year. Frank was th^ee years younger, and little Sarah was only two years of age, Mrs. Martin was left by her husband in rather- straitened circumstances, although in the distant part of the country where she resided and where living was much more moderate than in the cities, she had sufficient, with tbe practice of economy, to support her family in comfort. It was a wild romantic spot where the cotta^^e was 8iti;ated, overlooking as it did, the rude and stormy 54 THE CA.BIN BOY'S STOUT. bay. Yet it was not devoid of natural beauties. In summer it would have been considered a pleasant spot by the tourist, if ever any summer tourist had thought of venturing so far in search of health or pleasure — for the cottage stood in an ornamental enclosure, plentifully supplied with evergreens and such hardy shrubs and trees as would withstand the rigors and exposures of the winters of that latitude, while the wide parterres of flowers, which bloomed and blossomed in profusion, enchanted the eye with their gorgeous colors and loaded the surrounding atmosphere with their perfume — the smooth green- sward in front of the house— the neat gravel walks edged with box bush — the pretty secluded cottage almost hidden amidst the woodbine and sweetbriar bushes, which clambered over the walls and roof, and clustered around the windows, showed a mark- ed and agreeable contrast with the dark rugged cliffs which formed the back- ground of the lands- cape, for the cottage stood in a dell or ravine, ap- parently created by some sudden convulsion of nature at a remote period, which seemed to have severed the huge cliff that towered above and around, and opened an agreeable valley, in which the verdure that was denied to the surrounding ex- posed lands, grew and flourished in perfection, all the more grateful to the eye, in consequence of the barren bleak aspect of the mountain scenery. On both sides and in the rear the cottage was sheltered from the winds by tall over-hanging cliffs, which, in summer time were clothed in a scanty garb of brownish moss of a neutral tint, which well set off, in a sort of frame-work, the fresh verdure of the valley. In front were the waters of the bay, above which the cottage stood at an elevation of some three hundred feet; this in summer was an additional attraction, but in winter it looked bleak and cheer- less—although a jut of land stretching for a milo into the bay on the soutliern side of the valley, pro- THE CABIN BOY*S STOEY. 55 tected It in a great measure, from the rude breezes of the open ocean. A winding descent led from the eminence on which the cottage was located to the sea beach, which formed a narrow rim at the foot of the cliflf, the sea, at high water rushing up to its base, in which it had worked several dark, gloomy caverns, wherein numerous sea birds had taken up their abode. Such was the appearance of the home of Frank Martin, and it is not to be wondered at, that with these associations around them from their earliest childhood, the two sons of the widow should, at an early period, have shown a strong predilection for a sea life. Their hours of leisure were spent in playing upon the sea -shore, sailing mimic ships in the pools left on the beach by the receding waves — paddling amongst the slimy rocks, and gathering seaweed— or scaling the cliffs and penetrating into the dark, gloomy caverns in search of the eggs of sea-birds ; and from the period they first began to lisp, they expressed a wish to become sailors. Until the death of Lieutenant Martin, the boys being mere children, these expressions were laughed at by their parents, but when the widow was left the sole pro- tector of her family, she sought, by every means in her power to dissuade her children from thinking of a sea life, and endeavored to turn their inclinations into some other channel. With William she suc- ceeded. He was of a more sober, sedate disposition than his younger brother, generally not so much liked by his boyish companions, for he was fond of making shrewd bargains with them, and always managing to gain the upper hand ; but he was a much greater favorite with the schoolmaster at Camden, who praised him highly for his diligent attention to his studies ; and his serious behaviour in school hours, while Frank was a young scape- grace, generally at the bottom of his class, except i^hen he chose to exert himself to learn some favorite 56 THE CA13IN BOY'S STORY. lesson, when his natural aptitude enabled him to master it in advance of most of his class-fellows* Frank was, however, the idol of his school- fellows and playmates, and if the widow entertained any partiality towards either of her sons, it was towards her second son, Frank, although she always said, and always tried to persuade herself, that her sedate son William was the better behaved and more affec- tionate lad of the iwo. At the age of fifteen, William Martin had, through the kind influence of a friend of the widow's late husband, been taken into the office of a lawyer at Augusta, where, at the date on which our story commences, he had resided four years. Frank, as soon as his brother had gone forth from his mother's roof, to make his own way in the world, began to urge the widow to consent to his wishes and give him her permission to go to sea— although at this time he was but thirteen years of age. This the widow would not consent to, and his sister Sarah also added her persuasions to her mother's, for truly the widow had reason to dread the vicissitudes of the treacherous element ; she was the daughter of a sea-captain, who had perished at sea while engaged on a whaling voyage from Nantucket. She thought there was a fatality attending those of her family who ventured upon a sea life — and hence shrunk with dread from the idea of either of her own child- ren becoming sailors : but all was of no avail — a sailor Frank Martin was resolved upon being — and although he did not plead any longer with his mother, after once or twice seeing her weep when he had pressed the subject with unusual warmth, for Frank was an affectionate boy — for all his high spirits and mischievous pranks — he secretly resolved that the sea should be his chosen profession at last, even if he had to wait for years to attain his object, and commence his initiation in the duty of gaining his own living in some other, and, to him, less cojj-» THE CABllf BOY'S STOET. 57 genial employment. One thing, however, he deter- mined upon without his mother's consent, he would not, while she lived, act against her wishes. Ho trusted to time to work a change in her ideas. Meanwhile he attended school regularly, and spent his leisure time as usual upon the beach or on the cliffs, where, on a fine day, he would stroll for hours, looking longingly upon the vast sluggish waters in the calm, or in imagination bounding in some gallant ship over the swelling billows as they danced and sparkled, and foamed whilst borne onward by the breeze. We have as yet said little of Sarah Martin, but it is at least necessary that we give a partial descrip- tion of this, the youngest of the widow Martin's family, since all the personages therein comprised will play their part individually in the due course of our narrative. Sarah Martin, at this period, was only eight years of age; yet she already gave promises of exceeding loveliness. Hers was not, however, beauty of the showy, dashing description, calculated to make an instant impression, a heart sensitive to the influence of feminine attractions, often proving as evanescent as it is sudden and lively at the moment ; beauty, but of thai gentle, timid, retiring character, which gradually but surely winds its coils around the heart of the incautious beholder, and from which there is no escape — which only entangles him who struggles to get free stilUnore deeply in its meshes. At this period Sarah wa^ a lovely little girl, with large soft eyes, of a color which partook alike of a shade of blue and grey, with long silken eyelashes, which drooped gracefully over the lids when half closed, and dark, arched eyebrows, soft and silky as if drawn with a limner's pencil. Her hair was of a rich brown auburn, and fell in natural ringlets over her shoulders, forming a rich setting for her oval face, and pretty, regular, delicate features^ . She was very 68 THE CABIN dot's STORY. fond of her brother Frank, and as we have stated, would join her childish persuasions to those of her mother, and entreat him not to go to sea and be drowned, as she was sure he would be, if he ven- tured upon the treacherous element. About six months after William Martin had gone to live in Augusta, he sent a few presents to his mother and brother and sister, not of great value in themselves, but as a proof of his remembrance of them, and his wish that they should share in the benefits derived from a gift bestowed upon him by his employer, as a proof of his satisfaction with his conduct. Frank's share of his brother's generosity, consisted of two books, which William had evidently chosen with a just appreciation of his younger brother's tastes — the volumes consisted of Robinson Crusoe and Capt. Cook's voyages. Nothing could have been more acceptable to Frank, who greedily perused their contents, and wished he had lived in former years, and had had the good fortune to share the ex- ploits and dangers and triumphs of the gallant and i| adventurous Cook and his companions ; but K-obin- ! son Crusoe opened to his imagination a fairy world of delight. It was read and re-read, each time with increasing satisfaction. Every word was believed l)y the enthusiastic boy to be strictly true, and j Robinson Crusoe was envied as having been the j happiest of mankind. Oh," sighed Frank, " Oh I that I could only be cast away upon some desert Island, without food \ or clothing, and amongst lots of savage cannibals. '| How happy I should be, and then if I could but get l| a Man ^'riday to help me to build a hut ; and a parrot to call out, * Frank Martin ! poor Frank Martini' and a cat to follow me about ; and a goat- skin dress to wear. Oh, wouldn't it be jolly ?" From much musing upon this subject, Frank be? gan to conceive a plan of establishing a sprt of Crv^ THE CABIN boy's STOPwY, 50 soe's dominion upon a rugged promontory, which extended from the lower section of the cliff beneath his mother's dwelling, and which was only accessi- ble at low water, by scrambling over slimy and ragged rocks. Out of an old buffalo robe which he managed to purloin from the house, he manufac- tured a mock goatskin cap and coat, and his mother's tortoise shell cat supplied that important addition to Crusoe's household. A natural cave at one end of the promontory served for a ready-made habitation, as perfect as any Crusoe amateur could reasonably desire, and a parrot he had ready to hand, for the widow had a favorite parrot, which greatly to the wonder and distress of the lady, shared in the mys- terious disappearance of the cat, and though it could not say, * Frank Martin I oh, poor Frank Martin T it could and did screetch, without ceasing, What's o'clock, pretty Polly ? Poll, what's o'clock ?" and that temporarily answered the purpose. A Man Friday was a much more serious affair to be got over; but it was managed at last— all things can be managed by those who will — though the Man Friday was not a human subject of the amateur Crusoe. Frank pondered long upon this difficulty; his object was to do the thing properly ; and there- fore it was necessary that he should rescue his Man Friday from his pursuers, and that he should do it on a Friday, too — or else, how could the name bo appropriate? Fortunately for the success of his scheme, one Friday just as he had stolen secretly over to his cave to revel in his fancies for a few hours, he was startled by the sound of a barrel organ — rather an unusual sound in those parts — and notwithstanding Frank was attired in his buffalo, cap and all, he could not resist the curiosity that impelled him to find out whence the sound pro- ceeded. He recrossed from the promontory, and peering round a projecting comer of the cliff, espied two Italian organ boys, who were wending their CO THE CABIN BOX'S STOIiY. way to Camden from the villag^e of Lincoln ville. forgetting in his curiosity the oddity of his attire, he emerged from his hiding place — the boys saw his strange figure, and screaming with affright, taking him to he some strange and savage brute, they started to run with all haste along the path- way, while a monkey that was seated on the organ broke loose from them, and also impelled by fear, rushed down the cliff to the beach, and across the bridge of rocks which led to Frank's imaginary domain. It was a godsend to Frank — a Man Friday was on the very day of the week presented to his hand, actually flying from his captors and taking refuge in Jiis cave, for in that recess, the poor frightened brute secreted itself, and was then easily captured by Frank— and therefore retained a prisoner until it began to know and be attached to its master. The Italian boys grieved over the loss of their monkey, which they believed had fallen a prey to some monster which had suddenly sprung up from the deep; but they never sought to recover it, being glad to make their own escape. Frank now had everything complete — and spent most of his leisure time in his cave, still poring over, and gathering fresh ideas with regard to his pursuits from his favorite volume. His mother and sister often remonstrated with him on account of his absenting himself from the cottage ; but he always excused himself, by saying that he had been strolling along the cliff, and thus carefully kept his secret. One day, however, a cousin of the widow's— who was a sea captain, paid her a visit. He asked after her son Frank — Mrs. Martin replied that she sup- posed he was fctjrolling upon the clilfs, to which amusement he showed a great partiality, ** Then," said the captain, " I will take a stroll out, and look about me, and perhaps I ma^^ fall in with the boy." THS CA^TTT B0t*3 STOHf. 61 Thus saying, he took his hat and walked leisurely along the cliff. He saw nothing, however, of Frank, and was on the point of returning to the cottage, for it was'growing dusk, when turning a point, his attention was arrested by a human figure beneath him, apparently struggling with the tide. It was Frank — who was also thinking of returning home, and who having waited until the water had nearly covered the bridge of rocks which formed the road to his domain, had stripped himself in order to cross without wetting his clothes, which he had tied up in a bundle and was carrying on his head. The captain gained the beach as quietly as possible, in the hope of rescuing what he believed to be a lad struggling for life amidst the rocks, for he had no idea any one could have voluntarily placed himself in such a position, and he just arrived in time to see his young cousin land on the beach. ** Why, Frank I" cried he, in amazement, " what on earth have you been doing out on that jut of rock?" "Nothing, Captain Dobson," replied Frank — to whom the captain was well known, and with whom lie was a great favorite — " please wait till I put on my clothes, and I will go home with you ; but don't say anything to mother or to Sarah," *' And why not, Frank "Because — because," repeated Fr^nk — "I often go there — and I don't want them to know." " Why, what attraction is there, Frank ? I shall stop across myself, at low tide to-morrow, and see." " Please don't," implored Frank. The captain laughed. "Then tell me your secret," said he. "Will you keep it?" " That depends on circumstances. At all events, if there is no danger to yourself in it, I shall not say anything to annoy you." " Then I will tell you," said the boy, after musing 62 TtTE CABIN BOY*S STORY. | for some time, and he told his good natured cousin i of his scheme. " Upon niy word/' said the captain, laughing as 1 he listened to the explanation. "I must visit this | i Robinson Crusoe's cave of yours, Frank — I will go with you to your domain to morrow." " You won't say anything about it to mother to- 1 night ?» I " No, make yourself easy on that score," — and i thus chatting together, the captain and his young ' cousin wended their way along the cliff to the widow's cottage. i On the morrow Frank showed his cousin the ! mysteries of the promonotory and the natural cave. 1 " And you have stolen the parrot that I brought , your mother from the West Indies, the strange loss of which she has been lamenting to me. Oh, Frank, you should not have taken the parrot without your mother's leave, and the old tortoise shell cat. 1 declare I and what the d — is this ? a monkey, by all that's wonderful; "Why, what do you do with a monkey, Frank ?" " That's my Man Friday," replied Frank, gravely, and he proceeded to tell his cousin how he had got possession of it. " Why, you are a most romantic youth," said the captain, after having given way to a burst of laugh- ter, but I must tell your mother where her parrot is secreted. What put such a fancy as this into your head ?" I wish to be a sailor," replied the boy, "and mother won't let me ; but I never will be anything else." The captain was silent for some minutes; at length he said — I " Frank, I shall tell your mother what I have dis- J covered, lor I don't think it safe for you to visit this ^ place. Some day you will be carried away by the j tide in attempting to cross; but as a recompense ^ THE CABIN BOX'S STOBT. ^3 for breaking up your favorite amusement, I will endeavor to persuade your mother to let you g:o to sea with me, I think I can manage it, since you are determined upon it." " Oh, if you can persuade her to that, you are welcome to tell her all." That very evening the captain broached the subject to his cousin, and obtained her reluctant consent. The parrot and the favorite tortoise - shell cat were returned to their mistress, who said little to her son with regard to the loss — for she had not the heart to breathe a word of reproach, now that he was about to leave her, and even jocko was well housed in a vacant dog kennel and taken under the protection of Sarah. Frank's object thus unexpectedly obtained, the promontory was restored to its original solitude, and Frank, it was arranged, should go with his cousin to New York, and sail as cabin-boy with him in one of Mordant's ships—which the captain commanded. A week from this period, after having bidden a tender adieu to his mother and sister, and receiving numerous warnings and admonitions from the former relative to his conduct, and with regard to the necessity of not exposing himself too much to the night air during his voyage, and always wear- ing a night cap whjan he went to bed, and saying his prayers, and reading his Bible, and keeping the Sabbath day holy, and various other advice, which the widow gave in her solicitude and ignorance of nautical habits, and which the youth promised to obey, which made the captain smile to himself—but did not think it necessary to explain ; and, above all, bidding him never, never to forget his mother, and receiving a hundred kisses from his sister, and promising her treasures such as she had never dreamed of, to be brought from foreign parts, Frank Martin started with his cousin to New York, and was immediately installed as cabin boy in Captain Dobson's ship. 64 ^Itfi CAfili^ BOY'S StOHT. Frank found that he had many disagreeable duties to perform, that he had not thought of in his aspira- tions after a sailor's life; but he was too manly to complain — and he set to work at once and cheerfully endeavoured to fulfil his duties. A few weeks after- wards the vessel sailed — Frank having meanwhile written to his mother and sister, taking care to daub the letters with a little tar as an emblem of the change in his life — and to give the paper a true ship - like flavor. He sailed several voyages with Captain Dobson, until the latter retired from the sea, and then, after a brief visit to his home, he was placed by Mr. Mor- dant, by his own request, on board the Albatross, where we firat introduced him to the reader. CHAPTER VI. The Albatross on her voyage—Harry is startled by dis» covering a locket containing the portrait of a beautiful female in the captain's cabin, and discovers the original in the Recluse of Annabon. i We left Captain Seymour in a great state of anxiety with regard to the character of the vessel which had been described by the man on the look-out aloft. The second mate, who had been ordered by the captain to look through his glass and give his i opinion, whether or not they were the topgallant ; sails of the stranger that he could discern from the u deck, peered long and anxiously — - "I think. Captain Seymour^ it is only a cloud — | the outline seems undefined,*' said he, at length. i " I am half inclined to think so myself," respond- J ed the captain, putting aside his glass, and walking •] to and fro for some minutes; he then raised the spy- | glass again, and peered long in the same direction — | " No ; by heavens I it is the upper sail of the 'I stranger that I see. I can discern her topsails now | —the haze is clearing." | As he spoke, the man aloft sung out, *^ On deck 1 there." 1 THE CABIN boy's STOUT. 65 "Halloa I" replied the captain. " We are nearing the strange sail, sir. She must have seen us, and hove to. I can see the black line I of her bulwarks since the haze has lifted." " We must creep further to windward, Mr. Tol- croft," said the captain. " See that the yards are braced sharp up." ** For'ard, there ! brace the yards sharp up,' shouted the first mate. "How does the vessel bear now, my man?" shouted the captain, when the order had been eflfect- ed. " I have lost sight of the white speck again,*' he added, addressing the mate. " D — n this con- founded haze — it's rising from the water like a thick fog." " She was on our lee quarter this moment, sir," replied the man ; " but the fog is so thick that I have lost sight of her." " Keep a bright-look, and hail the deck if you catch a glimpse of her again," shouted the captain. " Keep her close, my man," he added to the man at the helm. " Quartermaster, see that the steering is well attended to. We will keep on this course for an hour or two, and then I will bear down upon her until I am satisfied as to her quality. Having given this order he descended to the cabin to finish his breakfast. In the course of half an hour he was again on deck. The sun was shining forth brilliantly, a;idj;he heat was growing oppres- sive. The haze was fast clearing off, and in the course of a few minutes, the man aloft again hailed the deck, saying that he could distinctly see the outline of the hull again. The strange sail was soon seen distinctly from the deck, with the aid of the glasses, and it became very apparent that she was " lying to." " It must be our consort, sir," said the mate. " Where she one of the cruisers she would have 283 E 66 THE cabtpt hoy's story, : given chase, seeing us making to windward, for Bh seemed to be maintained. | In the course of an hour, the captain and contra- J mrestre of the Dolphin returned on board, and the two vessels parted company, the Albatross steering direct for the coast, while the fears of the captain of the Dolphin still urged him to hang aloof. Henry Davis, who, when he shipped onboard the AlbntroRs, had not possessed the slightest idea of the real character of the vo?kc1, found himself in a very TliE CAliiN BOy's STORY. 71 oncomfortable position ; and he could not reconcile himself to the idea that Mr. Mordant could really be aware of the destination of his ship. His only confidant was Frank Martin ; and he being now engaged forward with the crew, he seldom was able to converse with him. The two lads did, however, now and then, in the first watch, find a few minutes leisure to chat together, and Frank did his best to cheer the spirits of his shipmate. If he felt any uneasiness himself, he never showed it before Harry ; but would say, in reply to the other's re- marks : " We can't help it; and therefore, my maxim is, ' Let us make the best of a bad bargain, and keep a still tongue in our heads.* If we are heard to grumble, trust me, we shall soon become food for the sharks." As to Harry's expressed doubts of Mr. Mordant's knowledge of the destination of his vessel, he would reply : " I fear me, Harry, he knows all about it. I have heard hints of this before ; though, to tell the truth, I never believed them." "But," said Harry, during one of these conversa- tions — for his ideas respecting the avocations of slavers were not very clearly defined, and he con- founded them with those of pirates — of whose dread- ful deeds he had often read— "surely, we shall not sink any peaceable merchant ships we c6me across and compel the cr6v^ to walk the plank, as I have read of?" " No," Frank replied—** I don't suppose we shall ; though, for the matter of that, I don't imagine Captain Seymour would miss a good chance where the risk was worth anything. I tell you, Harry, I have no good opinion of Captain Seymour ; for all his good looks and gentle voice, when nothing ruffles his temper. But I often wonder what made you take to a seafaring life. You are so timid and 72 THE CABIN boy's STOEY. quiet. There must have been some strange reason for your choice. I should like, some day, to learn your history." ** Perhaps, some day, and too soon, you may learn it," said Harry — speaking the last words inaudibly — as he left the deck to reply to the summons of the cabin bell. The weather had become almost calm, and the Albatross made but very slow progress towards the point of her destination on the coast ; and the captain passed a considerable portion of his time lolling on a sofa he had brought on deck, and placed beneath the awning. He was thus actuated, partly in con- sequence of the sultry weather, and partly by the natural anxiety he felt, as he neared the land and feared interruption from the cruisers. One day, just after he had gone on deck, some duty or other called Harry into the after cabin, on the sofa in which the captain had been reclining. Lying upon the sofa was a locket with a piece of black ribbon attached to it, which Harry had frequently seen around Captain Seymour's neck. Curiosity prompted him to unclasp it, and the mo- ment he did so he started back as if struck with a panic; his breath was for a moment suspended, and the blood forsook his cheeks, while the next moment it bounded back from his heart, dyeing his clear olive skin to the color of crimson. An ejaculation of pain burst from his lips, and he almost allowed the trinket to slip from his hands. In a few minutes however, he recovered himself, and stood gazing in- tently upon the portrait in the locket, although his breast still heaved convulsively ; and yet there was nothing apparently 1o cause this perturbation in the Portrait he held in his hands. It was the face and ust of a most beautiful female, with the peculiar almond-shaped eyes of the maidens of the East, and a rich profusion of yellow hair, contrasting singular- ly with the rare beauty of the dark eyes and eye- THE CABIN boy's STORY. 73 brows and long silken eyelashes. The features were I egular as those of the Greek Ideal ; the brow was low and broad, the nose, mouth, and chin of the purest Grecian cast, the nostrils thin and finely curved, almost seeming to breathe with life in the picture, the lips were of a rosy red, slightly parted, and displaying a row of teeth, white and even as pearls; and the complexion wasof the clearest white and red. Harry could not withdraw his gaze. Was it the surpassing beauty of the portrait that enchant- ed him ? So Captain Seymour appeaired to think ; for while the boy stood thus seemingly entranced, the captain descended into the cabin, unheard by him, and stood behind him, gazing intently upon him, apparently pleased with the admiration with which he fancied the boy was gazing upon the pic- ture. He had always been particularly gentle and conciliating to Harry, treating him more like a com. panion than as his cabin boy, often lending him books, and appearing to find relief in his conversa- tion from the rude companionship of his officers and crew, and he was not displeased with what he con- ceived the boy's admiration of the lovely counten- ance he was examining. At length he said — "Why, Harry, you seem quite enchanted with that portrait. Well, in a few days you may perhaps see the original ; but, my boy, you must not look upon her with such evident admiration,'* and he smiled as he spoke — "or I shall grow jealous.** Harry started, and again the color forsook his cheeks. Perhaps^ it was through fear — evidently the captain thought it was — for he continued : " Boy! T am not angry with you. No one could look on that lovely face unmoved. I have admired many maidens — almost loved some— but I have never really loved any but her." Harry trembled still in every limb, but the captain did not seem to observe him, for he took the locket from his hand, and sat himself down on the sofa, 74 THE CAlilN boy's STOKY. ! and for some minutes appeared buried iu thought. His features assumed a mildness, almost a gentle- ness, that Harry had never before observed, even in his most pleasant moods. " Harry," he at length said, ** I heard you read- ing aloud the other day, boy. You read well ; your voice is soft and musical as a woman's. Come here I and read to me. I am in a strange wayward mood to-day." J Harry came forward at his captain's call, having | hardly yet recovered his composure. He advanced | to the book-shelves ; but seemed to hesitate what I book he should take down. | "Reach down Byron's poems, Harry," continued u the captain, " and read from the ' Bride of Abydos,* commencing — | * Pair as the first that fell of womankind.* % and continue on through the verse." | Harry obeyed, and read in a voice that soundtd | tremulously sweet, the more so in consequence of j the boy's emotion, until he had reached the conclu- \ ding line — \ ** And oh, that eye was in itself asoul." Captain Seymour had listened attentively to the i first lew lines, but ere the boy had concluded, his thoughts appeared to wander, for he did not for some | moments observe that he had ceased. At length he < raised his head and said — "Most admirably read, boy. "Where did you acquire that rich soft voice ? It reminds me of Bah ! — no matter ; turn over the pages and read the concluding lines of * The Corsair,' commencing at the verse — \ "* His heart was formed for softness, warped to wrong.* *» Again Harry read, and this time the captain sat gazing intently at him, and listening to the beautiful verses of the poem. It was concluded, and the captain repeated aloud, and half unconsciously, tho last line, i THE CABIN EOy's STORY. 75 "linked with one virtue and a thousand crimes.** " That will do, boy, you can go. You are a good boy, and some day must tell me your history. You are not what you seem." The boy started, looked earnestly and half fear- fully at the captain ; but he was again, apparently, deeply absorbed in thought. The captain's gentle mood did not last long. Towards evening of that very day it fell calm, and for a week the ship scarcely made any headway. The sea was smooth as the surface of a mirror, while a thin scum covered it as far as the eye could reach, and a light thin haze floated above to the height of two or three feet, which reflected a glare from the rays of the tropical sun, glancing perpendicular up- on it, that was oppressive in the extreme, not only prostrating the physical faculties, but depressing, also, the spirits of the crew; the sails hung in heavy folds against the masts, and the decks and sides of the vessels were so heated that the pitch fairly boil- ed out of the seams — while the iron and brass work was rendered too hot to be touched even by the hard, horny hands of the seamen. It was a situation calculated to try the temper of the most equable disposition, and Captain Seymour fretted and raged after a fashion that fairly terrified those with whom he came in contact. We have remarked, that hitherto he had been kindly disposed towords Harry ; now, however, he was querulous with him. No- thing pleased him ; his books, his chief companions during his leisure hours, were neglected; and he was never a quarter of an hour at rest night or day. The crew felt the change severely ; hitherto he had issued his orders to the mates, havingf only on very rare occasions communicated them directly to the seamen. Now the watch was never at rest ; the sails were continually being uselessly shifted ; they were kept constantly wetted in the hopes that they might catch and hold the slightest chance flaw of 7G THB CABIN sot's STOHY. wind — the standing rig^ng was set up again and again, as it relaxed under the intense heat, and, at a time when it was a difficulty and trouble even to move, the men were kept constantly busy ; yet they dare not complain. There was something in the tone of Captain Seymour's voice, and in his look, that told them he was not to be trifled with. On one occasion, only, a stout, burly seaman ventured to grumble, though almost inaudibly, at what he con- ceived to be some unnecessary order. In a moment a powerful blow from the captain's muscular arm, well directed and aimed at the man's temple, laid him senseless upon the deck, cutting a deep wound, and causing a contusion of the brain. The poor man fell over the raised poop upon the deck below, but the captain merely turned to some of his mess- mates who were looking on in terror, and said calm- ly — more calmly than he had spoken for many days — " Take that mutinous dog to his hammock and see to him," and then resumed his orders as though nothing had happened. At length the long looked for breeze sprang up, the almost stagnant sea resumed its billowy motion, the haze cleared away, and the Albatross went gaily bounding on her course at the rate of six knots an hour. The captain's good humor returned, and though he still remained a good deal on deck, he again left the management of his ship to his officers, contenting himself with the duty of keeping a sharp look-out around, often spending an hour at a time in the topmast cross-trees, scanning the horizon with his glass in all directions. Harry had never yet been aloft, but one morning the captain ascended the rigging without his spyglass, and he called Harry to bring it up to him. The boy obeyed, but in descending the cat-harp, ings, after having delivered the glass into the cap- tain's hands, he suddenly became giddy— the ship careened over to a sudden gust of wind, and as she THE CABlIs boy's STOUT. 77 righted and slightly inclined over again to windward, he fell headlong into the sea. Fortunately he had fallen with the weather roll or he must have tumbled in board, and in all probability have been instantly killed — as it was, the coldness of the water restored him ; he rose to the surface and attempted to swim. He was, however, evidently frightened, and unac- quainted with the exercise, for he tossed his arms wildly about, and it was doubtful whether he could have kept himself above water until a boat could have been lowered to his rescuOb The captain had descended shortly after the boy had reached him the glass, and coming down the rigging more rapidly, he was only a few feet above him when he fell. " Lay the main yard aback and lower a boat," ho shouted, and the next moment he plunged into the water, and striking out, caught the struggling youth just as he was on the point of sinking for the second time. The boat was lowered, and both were brought on board — no mischief having occurred fur- ther than the fright which Harry had received. "Go below and strip yourself, boy," said the captain to the lad — a pretty fellow you are for a sailor. You have caused me to loose my best spy- glass — and that is more than you are worth. Here, stay," he added; "I will send Frank aft to help you — and send some dry clothes on deck to me." " I can do without help," said the boy, timidly. "Pooh! nonsense. Here, Frank, go below and get this lubberly fellow some dry clothes." Frank obeyed, and descended to the cabin with Harry, but he soon reappeared with a bundle of clothing for the captain, which Harr^T^ad desired liim to carry up, and when Frank returned he tound that Harry had already stripped himself and put on his dry clothing. "You are smart enough in putting on your toggery, at any rate," said Frank. " By Jove! it tnt. CAtJiN BOY^S STOEY. \ras lucky for you thi\t the captain jumped over- board after you, or you would have g:one to Davy Jones* locker, sure enough, before the boat could have reached you. I didn't give the captain credit for so much humanity. Well, he is a strange fellow ; I can't make him out," and seeing that his service55 were no longer needed, Frank returned to the deck. A day or two afterwards the ship reached the meridian of Cape Palmas, and standing close hauled on the larboard tack, steered across the Gulf of Gui- nea — holding a W. S. W. course to Majumba, a port in Loango, to the northward of the capital, where the captain expected to find his cargo ready for him. A few days brought the vessel in sight of the small, beautifully wooded island of Annabon, the southern shore of which the Albatross closely hug- ged — so closely, indeed, that the enchantinc: scenery of the island was plainly distin guishable. The cap- tain kept a white flag flying at the gafiend, all the time the land was in sight, and stood on the quarter deck with spyglass to his eye, intently gazing at one particular spot. The vessel was still a considerablo distance from the shore, but some of the sailors said they fancied they could discern a similar white flag- fluttering in the breeze amongst the dark green foliage. Whether or not, the captain seemed satis- fied ; for as the island gradually receded from view he lowered his £lass, and during the remainder of the day was in a particularly amiable temper. In the evening a double allowance of grog was issued to the crew, and for the first time during the voyage the mates were invited to dine at the captain's table. Three days after they sighted the main land, and towards nightfall anchored off the little native town of Majumba. In the course of the evening several canoes filled with negroes came on board, each canoe bearing a chief. They were, generally speaking, fine, athletic looking men, with forms that would have served as THE CABXK BOY'S STOET. 79 models for the sculptor's chisel, and as they were all entirely naked, every opportunity was given of judging of their physical perfection. They were unmistakably negroes, but they had nothing in common with the repulsiveness of the slave negro in their open countenances. They were deeply scarified across the chest and on the calves of the legs— not with the handsome, regular tattoo of the South Sea Islanders, but with deeply cut, gaping, black wounds, which had cicatrized, and left frightful scars, the only drawback to their generally tine ap- pearance. The chiefs, however, were distinguishable by their uncommon and unique finery, which ap- peared to have been borrowed from the cast-oif dresses of some theatrical wardrobe, and scrambled for and appropriated promiscuously by the wearers. The garments had probably been the gifts of various slave captains and captains of men-of-war and merchantmen, who had at diff"erent periods visited the coast, and the chiefs certainly presented a motley appearance. One, for instance, who seemed to think himself of no little importance, had decked himself out in a woman's flannel petticoat, over which he wore the red jacket of a marine, while a woollen nightcap covered his head, and his feet were encased, one in a dress pump, and the other in a huge sea boot. One had a sailor's jacket only, which he wore closely buttoned round his body, while all the rest of his person was entirely naked. Another took pride in a pair of blue navy pantaloons with gold laced stripes, but disdaining the servile fashion of crippling the limbs by wearing them in the ordinary manner, he wore them buttoned round his neck with the legs dangling behind. Some had nothing but vests; the garments of others were confined to a simple pair of knee-breeches— rarely, however, worn where breeches ought to be. One stalwart savage, totally naked otherwise, rejoiced in a pair of long woollen hose, drawn up above the 80 THE CABIN boy's STORY. knee, the feet of which having worn out, had been cut off at the anclea, and, ornamented with feathers, were worn about the owner's neck, and esteemed as a most powerful fetish, upon which no evil eye of man or beast couid look and remain scathless ; but the crowning glory of attire was that worn by the celebrated King Kettle, well known in the annals of the slave trade, and notorious for his skill and cun- ning in diplomacy, he having for a long period managed to keep on equal good terms with the commanders of the English ships of war that visited the coast and the captains of the slavers, who con- stituted his best customers, This cunning and powerful chief wore an old cocked hat, which he had himself gaily fringed with feathers; a blue dress coat, rather shabby and threadbare, but the shabbi- ness of which was in a great measure atoned for by a pair of officer's epaulettes which he had mounted on his shoulders. He had a stock about his neck, but no shirt, vest, or pantaloons, although a black silk apron was tied around his waste and hung down in front of his person, reaching nearly to his knees. He discarded stockings, probably on account of the heat of the climate; but his feet were encased in Blucher boots, considerably dilapidated. The orna- ment, however, in the possession of which he chiefly prided himself, and from which he had derived his European appellation, was a small copper tea-kettle, polished to the utmost brightness, which was sus- pended from his shoulders by a leathern strap, and dangled against his posteriors as he walked. The interior contained a varied and valued, if not valuable, assortment of sea shells, pieces of old iron and copper, and pebbles, which made a most con- founded clatter as his majesty walked along with haughty stride, the kettle banging against him at every step. It had been especially blessed by the sorcerers, and was considered the most powerful fetish in the country, and the source of all King Kettle's power and influence. THE CABIN BOT'S STOUT. 81 Most of the members of this motley group were welcomed as old acquaintances by Captain beymour and his tirst and second mates, while the third mate and several of the crew were also recognized by them, thus proving that although it was their tirst voyage on board the Albatross, it was not their iirst visit to the slave coast. The conversation was chiefly carried on in Spanish and French — few of the natives, not excepting the chiefs, being able to speak more than a few words of broken English. Aguardiente was the first thing asked for, and then tobacco in the leaf, both of which were mod- erately supplied. On being questioned by the cap- tain, the cniefs informed him that the whole line of coast from Majumba . as far south as Loanda had been for many weeks narrowly watched by two British men-of-war, and King Kettle found it neces- sary to remove his slaves to Quaddah, a village on the Zaire river, beyond where it was unnavigable by any thing but native canoes, and a distance of seven days* journey from the coast, in consequence of the men-of-war's boats having pulled a great many miles up the river. King Kettle also mentioned with pride and satis- faction that he had entrapped4he captain and crew of the brig that had given information to the men-of war, and had massacred them all, and to prevent suspicion, had burnt the vessel, alter having robbed her of every portable article. It would, he added, be at least half a moon or more before the slaves could be brought back to the coast, although he believed the King of England — as he termed the ships-of-war — had got tired of waiting, ar.d fancy- ing the information had been false, had sheered ot^ and had not been seen for nearly a moon. Captain Seymour, finding that he had a great deal of leisure on hand, left the management ol the ves- 8el| until the arrival of the slaves, to his mates, and 383 82 THE CABIN BOY*S STOUT. resolved to pay a visit, on private business of his own, as he stated, to the island of Annabon, and with this object he ordered the large pinnace which the Albatross carried for the purpose of sailing up the rivers, after slaves, to be got ready, and supplied with a fortnight's provisions, and taking with him half a dozen of his men and the cabin boy, Harry, he immediately set sail for the island. Making long stretches during the day, and taking advantage of the land breezes at night, the pinnace reached Annabon in three days from leaving Majumba, and Captain Seymour landed at a native Portuguese village, consisting of a score or two of wretched huts, and taking Harry with him, leaving his crew to take charge of the pinnace, he walked a mile or two from the village along a wild native road skirting the ocean, and winding amidst some of the richest verdure and most enchanting scenery that the world can produce. Mangoes, bananas, limes, and tropical fruits, hung in clusters on the bushes that skirted the road, which was little more than a beaten foot-path — the trees forming an archway over the head at an elevation of sometimes a hun- dred feet, thus sheltering the traveller from the ardent solar rays, without obstructing the free cur- rent of air from the ocean. After having proceeded for two miles, they came upon a cultivated clearij^g amidst the forest, open to the sea — which was thickly studded with negro huts — and in the rear of which was a small cottage with a verandah running around it after the style of a West Indian country residence. A winding walk led to the cottage, edged on either side with mango and other fruit trees in full blossom, or bearing rich clusters of ripe fruit which perfumed the atmosphere. Several negroes welcomed the appearance of the captain in Portuguese and broken Spanish ; but he cautiously THE CA15IX BOY*?. STORY. SS Tie entered the door without ceremony, appearing to be well acquainted vith the place, and proceeded to an inner apartment — bidding Harry wait in the passage. As the captain entered, Harry heard a musical female voice exclaim, in tones of delight, *'AhI Caro mio quien es V* — a light, baunding step flew to meet him — and then was heard the soft, indistinct murmur of mutual caresses — the door was closed and all was silent. In a few minutes the captain came out of the room, and taking a carpet bag which Harry had carried up from the boat, he took from it a small casket, which he desired Harry to carry into the room, while he looked over the contents of the bag — adding, "Harry, I told you one day at sea you should see the original of that portrait you so much admired; but beware, boy," he continued laughing- ly ** beware of my warning." Harry felt as if he had been transported into some scene of enchantment. He scarcely knew what the captain said, but he mechanically took the casket and entered the room. At the first glance he was still more astonished and bewildered by the light and airy elegance of the apartment. It appeared as though by some magic spell a fairy abode had been dropped in the midst of a primeval wilderness; but turning his head, an object met his gaze which attracted all his attention, for, lounging in a languid yet elegant posture, upon a crimson silk ottoman, was the original of the portrait in the locket, far surpassing in rich, living loveliness, the exquisite beauty of the painting. She was attired in a Greek costume, and a negress, fancifully dressed, was Beated near her, holding a huge fan in her hand, with which it appeared she had been fanning her lovely mistress. Harry had read of the exquisite refinement and beauty of the interior arrangements of the dwelling of the favored mistress of a Turkish J ^% Titt: CABIN boy's story* harem. To his fancy it seemed as though he had been suddenly transported into one of these forbidden abodes. He stood transfixed with astonishment, and a mingling of overwhelming seiisations. So much was he bewildered, that he even hesitated when the sweet voice of tlie lovely lounger bade him approach and deliver into her hands the gifts of her HUSBAND. " Habl V, Castellano T* she added, noticing the hesitation of the youth. ^^Mealegro mucho de ver a V. Que es esto T pointing to the casket. Thus addressed, although he knew but little of Spanish, Harry advanced to the lady and placed the casket in her hand. " MucMsimos gracios** she replied, as she opened the box, and took thence a jewelled miniature of Captain Seymour. CHAPTER VII. A letter from a correspondent of Mr. Mordant's at Sierra Leone— Another anonymous letter received by the Widow Miller — A letter from Captain Seymour, denying any knowledge of the abduction of Jane Miller — Some account of the widow's family — Charles Mordant endeavours to obtain money on the security of his expectations. We mentioned in a former chapter that Mr. Mor- dant had received a letter from a correspondent on the African coast, which occasioned him some con- siderable uneasiness. The letter was from his factor at Ferando Po, and it stated that the ship Dolphin, Captain Junot, commander, in the success of which he had some considerable interest, and, he had learnt, been driven from the coast in consequence of the rigid watch after slavers that was kept up by the British cruisers, and he feared that a fine assort- ment of slaves, admirably adapted for the Cuban market, would be lost. He added that the Albatross under the command of Captain Seymour, was THE CAEIlf BOY'S STOUT. 85 expected shortly to arrive upon the coast, and although he had great confidence in Captain Sey- mour's judgment and discretion, he feared he might rush on to his destruction. There was suflBcient in this letter to occasion the merchant a great deal of uneasiness. To be sure, if the Albatross should be captured, he thought he would not actually lose money, but he would miss a fine opportunity of making it, which was as much to be deplored as would be an actual loss ; but this was not all. The honest, upright, straightforward, and, in the estima- tion of mankind, most worthy merchant, was fear- ful that, if the Albatross should be suddenly cap- tured, without giving time for Captain Seymour to make such preparations as he might think advisable, his own good name might suffer, since there were numerous letters and other matters that might bo readily traced to him. Meanwhile Mr. Mordant was considerably haras- Bed by the importunities and complaints of the widow Miller, who was, as the reader is well aware, still troubled with doubts in regard to the fate of her child. At first she had been almost satisfied that the body of the unfortunate female found in the river had been her daughter's, though she was at a loss to account for the manner of her death ; then again doubts arose in her mind, in consequence of the knowledge that certain articles of her daughter's scanty wardrobe and store of jewelry had been car- ried off, which were just the articles she imagined she would have chosen to carry with her herself had she been going anywhere upon a long visit. Amidst all these doubts she began to credit the suspicion that had arisen in her mind that Captain Seymour must have been concerned in her flight from home, and that possibly he had managed to secrete her somewhere, and she might be still living. The mother's heart clung to this belief, and she besought Mr. Mordant to make such inquiries of Captain 80 THE CABIN boy's STOET. Seymour as should set her mind at rest. To add to her distress and uncertainty, though she did not place much faith in anonymous letters, she had re- ceived a third letter from the same singular and mysterious correspondent, which contained the following lines : "Madam, grieve not for the death of your child, if you would sooner know that she still lived, though forever disgraced, than that she had passed away from the earth forever. The hody of the un- fortunate female found in the North River was not that of Jane Miller." The ambigious phraseology of this letter troubled the widow exceedingly. It was scarcely comprehen- sible to her. Sometimes she thought that some per- son was trifling with her, but she could not bring herself to believe that any one could be so heartless, merely for the sake of mystifying her and gratifying a cruel propensity to sport with her harrowed feel- ings. She called, therefore, at the office of Mr. Mordant, down town, and implored him so earnestly to write to Captain Seymour, and ascertain truly whether he knew anything respecting her daugher's fate, pro- mising even, if he would only relieve her anxiety, to pardon him the wrong he might have done to her daughter and herself, that the merchant promised to write, and as he was himself anxious to know how Captain Seymour had succeeded, and whether the fears of his agent had proved groundless, he did write by the very earliest mail to Fernando Po. It was of course a long time before any answer was received ; and when, at last, a letter from the Captain arrived, Mr. Mordant was relieved of a great deal of anxiety, foi- Seymour said that he had evaded the cruisers — indeed they had, he believed, left the vicinity of the Lcango coast before he arrived there ; that he had secured a prime lot of negroes — young and healthy — and that there "vvas still a sufficient THE CABIN boy's ST..ltY. ^7 cargo left to fill up the Dolphin when she should arrive, which she had not done at the date of his writing. Then followed a few words of .badinage at the poltroonery of Captain Juuot, and the captain concluded Lis letter in the following words ; " By the way, there is one subject mentioned in your letter which occasioned me a great deal of un- easiness and annoyance. You ask me if I know anything ofthe unfortunate young lady, Jane Miller, and insinuate that probably I might have abducted or kidnapped her from her home and carried her on board the Albatross. You hint, also, that if I have 80 done, you will look it over, if I can manage to set her on shore somewhere on the coast, or in the Brazils, on my return, so that the affair may not be noised about in New York — and further, that if her mother is satisfied that the girl is living, she will be relieved from much anxiety, and yourself from much unpleasant importunity, if she is made aware that her daughter is in some foreign land — and that under such circumstances you will take measures to enable her to rejoin her. I desire to inform you positivelyy that no one, even amongst her own rela- tions — setting aside her mother — was more shocked than I was myself, when I heard of her disappear- ance. I did not seek to entice her on board the Albatross, and she is not on board that vessel ; but if she were I would not act up to your expressed wishes regarding her. I know that I am accounted a sad fellow amongst females — but I wish you to know that I am incapable of premeditatedcruelty to any woman, however much 1 may disregard the feelings of the sterner sex. I paid considerable attention to Miss Miller when I was last in New York — more, much more than I was justified in doing. I thought her a most fascinating girl. I was at her mother's house only a day or two before her mysterious disappearance, and I walked out with i;er. Our conversation was serious, and when J 88 THE CABW HOY'S STORY. quitted her, after conducting her home, 1 left her weeping. I will confess I have had sad forebodings respecting her fate ; but although my own conscience might not acquit me, if any thing serious should have happened to her, I am at least legally innocent of any crime against her. You are at liberty to show this letter, or rather this postscript, to Mrs, Miller, and to rest assured I am writing the truth. I positively know nothing respecting the fate of Jane Miller," The merchant delivered the postscript into the widow's hands. He and she both felt satisfied that the captain had written the truth, and the widow went home in despair ; the last straw of hope at which the drowning wretch catches, was snatched from her. As to Mr. Mordant, he was much annoyed at the tone of the latter portion of the letter. He perceiv- ed that Captain Seymour knew iuU well the inde- pendent position which he held with regard to the merchant— his nominal employer— and he saw that it would be necessary for him in future to be guard- ed in his expressions in order that he might not of- fend the young seaman; besides, he was disappointed to a certain degree, because Jane Miller was not on board the Albatross. He would far sooner she had been for ever cast off and lost to society, than that subsequent discoveries should prove that the drown- ed female was really her, as thus a sort of stigma might attach itself to his family, in consequence of the distant connection Nvith the deceased. When the clerical cousin of Mr. Mordant had died, he had left his little property in the hands of the merchant, who was at that time a much poorer man than he was at the date in which our story opens ; but being even then extensively engaged in mercantile business, the simple-hearted clergyman had believed that he would do his best to increase the property, so that on her attaining her majority, THE QA.BIN BOy's STORY. 89 Jane might have at least a comfortable dowry to carry with her to the man whom she might marry. The widow had some little property of her own, and it was therefore with his wife's full consent that he had devised his daughter's property to be subjected to the management of her guardian. Mrs. Miller had been informed a few years after- wards that there was a flaw in the title deeds of the property, and that it had been given up in consO' quence of an original Dutch claim having been preferred ; and as she had perfect trust in the in- tegrity of her late husband's cousin, she had believ- ed him, and had instituted no inquiry. She had ex- pressed her regret at the unfortunate change in her child's future prospects, and that was all. Thus matters had stood between the two families up to period of the present history. Charles Mordant, notwithstanding he had received a considerable addition to his allowance from his fa- ther, in consequence of the pleading of his mother in his behalf, still found that his expenses far out- stripped his income, and he at length came to the resolution to endeavor to raise some money upon the security of his future expectations. With this object in view he called upon a lawyer, who had done some rather dirty work for him two or three times before, and asked his advice how to proceed, guaranteeing him an ample remuneration, if he would procure him an advance of money. By the suggestion of this crafty limb of the law he managed to procure a copy of bis father's will, informing him also of all the circumstances that he was acquainted with relative to his father's aflfairs. The lawyer promised to consider the matter, and desired the young man to call again in a day or two, and he probably by that time might be able to assist him. This the youth agreed to, and at the ap- pointed time he waited upon the lawyer, *' You see^ I am true to appointment, Mr. Uar- 90 THE CABIN boy's STORY vey," said "he, gaily. "What can you do for me now, old fellow ; come, let's hear what you have re- solved upon ?" " I think I may be able to raise some money, Mr. Charles," said the lawyer, " but there is one thing I wish to ask you about ; that little property in New Jersey? Are you sure that belongs to your re- spected parent, or does he only hold it on trust ?'* " I am sure he claims it as his own and receives the rents. I have often heard him chuckle over the rapid increase in its value. Why, Harvey, ten i years ago, when my father purchased it, it did not fetch 300 dollars a year. Now, it's worth a cool i,000 dollars." " Humph I Of whom did your respected father purchase this little property, sir, may I ask? I thought it once belonged to Mr. Miller ?" " I fancy it did once ; but there was some flaw or other in the title deeds, and it fell into the hands of some Dutchman, and I believe my father purchased it at a low rate from him — for the fellow was poor and ignorant ; but I never bother my head about these matters. What have you done old fellow to- ^ ^rds raising the wind ; you know there will be plenty of money by and by to make all fair and square again." "I have done little as yet," replied the lawyer. You see, Mr. Charles, your respected father may liv^e a long time yet, and it is difficult just now to raise money ; but call on Monday, young sir, and I will see what I can do." Charles Mordant left the office, inwardly cursing the plodding notions of the crusty old lawyer, sliU believing when he called again something satisfac- tory would be effected ; " For," said he to himself, ** I see plainly enough the old codger only wants me to come out with better offers to himself for the share he may take in the matter." No sooner, however, had the young man reached THE CABIN boy's STORY. 91 the street, than the lawyer, who had sat engrossed in thought, started up, and exclaimed, " A pretty piece of information you have let me into the secret of, Master Charles. Procure money for you, indeed . No, by my faith ; but I'll make the old man plank down handsomely to me, or else, by God, I'll spring a mine beneath his feet that he little dreams of." Charles Mordant, on quitting the office of the lawyer, proceeded to his father's counting-house to arrange some business with the old man. Mrs. Miller happened to be there, and Charles saw her for the first time since her daughter's disappearance. She held out her hand to him as he entered, and his attention was immediately arrested by a ring she wore on the third finger. He let her hand fall from his grasp, and shudder- ed perceptibly. Both the widow and his father inquired if he felt unwell. "No,"saidhe; *' it was merely a momentary qualm. I have been subject to such attacks of late." And he seated himself, until the widow was about to leave, when, to the astonishment of his father, and, indeed, of the widow herself, he offered to escort her home. She declined, but he insisted, and they left the counting-house top^ether. " Mrs. Miller," said he, in the course of the con- versation, " may I ask where you obiainod that ring with the remarkable stone in the centre ? I never saw but one resembling it before, and then it was on the finger of an intimate friend. Excuse me for the seeming rudeness of the question, but the ring attracted my notice the moment I saw it." " Alas !" replied the widow, " I fear that the ring is the only memento of the kind I have left of my poor, unfortunate Jane." " Pardon me for recalling such painful recollec- tions," said the young man. " Had I known the circumstances, I would not have asked the question." He left the widow on board the Jersey ferry-boat, ai^d walked towards the family residency, 92 THE CABIN boy's STOHY. "Good Heavens!" said he, half aloud, after ho had walked for some minutes, deeply absorbed in thought; "can it be possible that there are two rings of such very peculiar appearance? It may be, nay, it must be, the case. I am a fool to trouble myself about the matter." CHAPTER VIII. "Which introduces the reader to Zuleika's abode on the Island of Annabon— Interview between Captain Seymour, King Kettle, and the Loango chiefs — The Yunga JagoB woman and her children — IThe infants cast to the Hons in the canebrake. i In the preceding chapter we left Henry Davis in the presence of the beautiful original of the portrait that had so fascinated his gaze in the cabin, on the i occasion of his taking up the locket from off the sofa. \ "What a charming present! How handsome it j is I How like my husband I It was what I wished to possess when I last parted from him. How kind of him to think of me when he is so far, oh, so very far away," exclaimed the lady, in Spanish, as she gazed with admiration upon the beautifully executed | miniature. \ Harry did not understand her (although he had, through hearing some of the sailors who spoke Spanish, occasionally talking to each other in that language, become sufficiently familiar with several expressions to gather the meaning of her words, especially when coupled with the animated expression of her features), had he really heard her speak ; but a fit of abstraction, such as he had experienced in the cabin on the occasion above alluded to, had again seized the bey, and he stood still as a statue gazing earnestly upon the young girl, who, although she called Captain Seymour her husband, could not have numbered more than sixteen summers. On her part, the lady was so occupied with the picture tHE CA-BIN boy's STOEY. 93 that she seemed to have forgotten the presence of the youth ; both were completely occupied with their own thoughts, when Captain Seymour, having com- pleted his search in the carpet bag, re-entered the apartment, bearing several other costly trinkets in his hands. He stood for some moments, looking at the boy and at the young female, and then he gave way to a peal of laughter, which rung merrily through the room. Oh Harry, Harry," said he at last, " I see you are not inclined to take my warning. I shall posi- tively become jealous. Why, I declare the boy is blushing like a girl," he continued, as Harry, re- called to himself by the captain's voice, reddened through his clear olive skin to the color of crimson. " But I need not be jealous of thee, mi tesora," add- ed he, seating himself on the sofa beside the girl, and fondly placing his arm around her waist, and addressing her in words of endearment, as he placed gift after gift in her lap. " You can go and amuse yourself in the garden, Harry," he said to the boy, who left the room, still moving as if mechanically, scarcely seeming to know what he was doing. '* What a handsome boy," said the young girl, after Harry had gone out and closed the door. **Yes, the boy is good looking enough — pretty enough for a girl, Zuleika." ** And you will remain a long time with me? It is so long since I have seen you, caro mio" mur- mured the girl, after some conversation had passed between her and Seymour. "Nay, dearest, ijiot long — willingly would I s(ay ■with you altogether ; but I cannot. I hope the day will come when we shall reside constantly together; two or three more voyages and then I shall quit the sea, and nothing but death shall separate us." The countenance of the young female assumed a melancholy aspect, as she replied— 94 THE CABIN Lor'b STOUT. ''Oh, I am very sad, dear George, wlien you are absent from me, and so long absent. I have nobody here to speak to—nobody but the negroes ; they are kind ; I love them ; but I cannot be happy when you are away from me.'* " And yet this is a pretty spot, and you have your p^uitar and your books, and everything to make you happy, Zuleika?" "Everything but you, dearest; and were you here always, 1 could well sacrifice all the rest." There was such a tone of gentleness and sadness in the young girl's voice, such an expression of child -like, trustful, and confiding love in her large, soft, dark eyes, as she gazed up in the captain's face, and nestled close to him, as though she feared that he would even now slip away from her, or as if she could scarcely realize the happiness that his visit had brought to her heart, that it was no wonder that Captain Seymour caught her in his arms and covered her with caresses, and gazed upon her with a look of fondness— such as a father would bestow upon a child, mingled with the intense affection of a husband— a lover still. " A week I shall be with you, dearest," he said ; "for one week we will talk and think of nothing but love ; we will stroll together along the beach at sunset, and listen to the murmur of the surf as it breaks amonp:st the rocks. We will walk in the coo) groves, and cull the fruits and flowers at early morning, and at noonday we will recline in the shade, and I will read to you, or you shall sing to me, and I will accompany you upon the guitar. Yes, for one week we will forget that there is any trouble or misery in the world. Our world shall be this lovely paradise, and you shall be my Eve, and we the only inhabitants of this, our own Garden of Eden. Wo shall be all in all to each other." The girl smiled, and i)ressed the hand of the cap- tain and again looked up into his face with her gentle, THB CABIN boy's STOBT.- 95 confiding look ; but a shade of sadness again covcreil her brow, as she asked : " And is there, then, so much misery in the outer world and do you share it ? This island is almost all the world I can recollect. Ah ! you are sad when you are away from me. But surely you have no troubles ? Yov. know no wretchedness ?" A pang shot through the bosom of Seymour, as he listened to the innocent, artless expression of the lovely girl. " And have yovk known no misery during your short life, my Zuleika he asked ; have you, indeed, no recollection of other scenes than these ? No : I forget ; poor child ! you were too young to have had more than an indistinct recollection. Do you reeollect nothing of your father ? of your mo- ther, Zuleika? Nothing of the days when you were a child, like yonder j^icaniwed 7" pointing to a little negro child who was amusing herself by throw- ing pieces of stick into a rivulet that trickled beneath the window of the apartment where they were sitting. Tears came into the eyes of the young girl, as she replied, still smiling through the tears : "Little, very little. Sometimes I think 1 do; but all seems lost in mist, as though it were a dream. You, my husband, have been my father — my bro- ther — I never knew my mother — " ** And never need care to have known her," re- plied Seymour, in English, speaking as it were to himself. A tigress loves and will protect its young. Men and women only, are such demons as to cast asunder and trample on the ties of nature." *' Qtttf dijo ely senor said the young girl, archly. "You must tell me that English language which you say your countrymen speak." ** I3y-and.bye, when we live always together, Zuleika, i wiU teach it to you^'* replied Seymour. Then he continued in a more lively tone, " So you saw my flag when the Albatross sailed past the DC THE CABIN boy's STOEY. ialand the Other day. I saw the white ijag- flying in answer to my signal. It gladdened me, but it was almost more than I expected, Zuleika. Were ou looking out for me You could hardly think should pass on that particular day ?" " Do 1 not look out for you every day when you are absent?" replied the girl. *' My first walk in the morning is to yonder eminence where the flag- staff stands ; my last walk in the evening is to the same spot. How many days do I wait with dis- appointment ! How long I watch and wait I Oh, George, you have provided everything here to make me happy ; but I am very — very lonely." "Poor child I" murmured Seymour. "Can I not sail with you in your ship, if you must still go those long voyages to sea ?" asked the girl. " I have read in the books you have brought me of women who sailed with their husbands and shared all their dangers." " My ship would be no place for you, nor such as you," answered Seymour, moodily; "but are you indeed so very lonely ? Well, I must leave you iu a week ; but before 1 go to America I will see you again." A sudden thought seemed to strike him. " Zuleika," he continued, " I shall perhaps be a month or six weeks away. Shall I leave you Harry for a companion. He will teach you that English language you wish to learn, and will talk to you of that America that some day I will carry you to, and about which you so much like to hear. I am wrong, poor child! to leave you without any com- panions but these ignorant though trusty negroes. I will try and get you a female companion when, next I return here from America." The girl's eyes sparkled with joy. " I shall none the less long for you, dear George," she said, " but that will be something new to amuse me;" and then she laughed as merrily as a child (she was lit- tle more) as she continued, " b^t, Senor, I must THE CABIN boy's STORY. 97 teach Harry Spanish or Greek before I can learn English from liim. You have forgotten, Senor that he does not speak my language." Oh, he will soon learn, and no doubt you will get along very well together," answered the captain, laughing. *' Harry is a good and trusty lad, and ad- mires you exceedingly, and I have no doubt will learn either Spanish or Greek from your lips. I know it would not take me long to learn the latter, if you were my teacher, though now I have forgot- ten what little I once knew." Thus matters were planned. Captain Seymour was glad that he had thought of something to re- lieve in some measure, the monotony of Zuleika's life, and the next day he told Harry of the arrange- ments The lad seemed pleased with the idea, though he hardly expressed any satisfaction beyond a mere acquiescence in the arrangement. Captain Seymour remained a week on the island ; his boat's crew enjoying themselves and making the most of the holiday, for it was little they saw of their captain, whose whole time was engrossed by Zuleika; but, at the expiration of that period, the pinnace was got ready to return to the coast, and the captain bade Zuleika a tender, although brief, farewell, reiterating his promise to return in a month or six weeks at the farthest; and leaving Harry, according to arrangement, to bear the young girl company until his return. A few days after this, we again find Captain Seymour on board the Albatross in Majumba Bay. During his brief absence every preparation had been made for the reception of the slaves — the coopers had been employed in forming the bundles of shakings into water- casks, and a portion of the crew were still engaged in filling the new casks with water, a task of no slight difficulty, since the boats had to toil several miles up the river before 283 o 98 THE CABIN boy's STORY. the water could be procured sufficiently fresh and pure. Other gangs of sailors, assisted by natives, were busied taking in stores of Indian corn, plan- tains, and sweet potatoes ; in fact, everybody was as busy as possible. As yet, but a small portion of the expected slaves had arrived, and these had been so hardly driven from the de^pdi at Quaddah, that it was found impossible to take them on board until they had been allowed some days to recruit their ex- hausted strength, to anoint and bathe their blister- ed feet and skins, and to heal the sores made by the lashes of the slave-drivers. They were of all ages and both sexes; but, altogether, such a sorry-look- ing set, that Captain Seymour remonstrated sharply with King Kettle, assuring him that if the remain- ing portion were not in better condition, he should re- fuse to take them on board. He resolved to go him- self to Quaddah, and ascertain the number and con- dition of the slaves said to be in readiness for him ; but, previously, he made a selection amongst those who had arrived, of such as he deemed capable of making the voyage, resolving to leave the remain- der (ineligibles) on King Kettle's hands. There were about a hundred in all, and of these at least one-third were aged persons, whom the captain at once and firmly rejected, despite the remonstrances of the chiefs, who said that they had been at a great expense in procuring them as they were, and that they would be useless to them, as they were only fit to " eat rice and plantain — very mooch — and to sleep." " And what matters that to me ?" asked the cap- tain. " Do you suppose I want a parcel of useless cattle, only fit as you say j'ourself to *eat rice very much.* No, no, Kettle— and you too, Gumbo addressing the chief next in rank, "I must have a better set than those, or else I shall weigh anchor and be off to Cabenda— and see what King Jacko has got to dispose of." THE CABIX •nOY*S STOHY. 99 "King Jacko — very much bad man, cheat too much— no make good bargain — nevermind, es todoSy" replied King Kettle. Very well, then, see that you don't cheat me. I shall start for Quaddah to-morrow ; meanwhile, see if you can't bring this lot round a little ; allow them exercise— give them plenty of rice, and let them bathe every day — by that means they may be ren- dered worth something. You must give the children to some of your own women to nurse till the mother's get strong — as to the batch of old ones there, you must dispose of them as you best can. I shall have nothing to do with them. We shall have to throw quite enough overboard before we get to Cuba, under any circumstances; the Albatross can't be burdened with such a lot of superannuated carrion." Tambien. JiJ«^ieMc?o" replied King Kettle, who saw that it was useless to remonstrate. The pinnace was again got in readiness, this time to ascend the river, and taking Mr. Tolcroft and a dozen men with him, the captain took his departure on the following morning. The land on the coast from Loando to Majumba, although very fertile, is flat and swampy— the river, one of the branches of the Zaire, running for several miles through a simi- larly flat, but tolerably well cultivated country. At intervals there were groups of the wine palm tree and the lofty boabid, and groves of limes, papaws and plaintains; but the land is mainly occupied w ith fields of Indian corn, beans, cabbages, and manioc— amongst which are scattered, at distant intervals, native huts grouped two or three together within the customary com fence, reaching about ten feet high and keeping the occupants sheltered from the sun ; while the uncivilized parts, which in the most fertile districts are covered with tall rank grass, afford shelter, to a variety of wild beasts — amongst which there are numerous lions, and Diyriads of poisonous reptiles. There was nothing, 100 THE CABIN boy's STORl. therefore, to obstruct the view of the bay for several j miles above the mouth of the river. | The river is of tolerable width, butis so overspread I with rank weeds and trunks of fallen trees that the I progress of a boat is necessarily slow, and though \ the wind blew fresh from off the sea, and all sail i was set on the pinnace, the men had enough to do with their oars and poles and boat-hooks, to keep j the course clear of the numerous obstacles. In some i places, even where the river was more than forty feet in width between the banks, the rank herbage had grown out, partially buoyed up by the water, to a distance of ten or fifteen feet on either side, scarcely leaving space for the boat to pass between it, and occasionally its progress was facilitated by tugging it along by the branches. At length they came to a sharp bend, with low ' marshy banks, the marsh extending almost to the i sea- shore, and giving them an uninterrupted view of the town and coast, for although they had sailed and tugged several miles, the river was so tortuous and winding, and the bend so abrupt and inclining to a seawar d, that they were still but a short dis- tance, comparatively, from the shore. Mr. Tolcroffc ; was at the helm and Captain Seymour was standing I in the stern sheets looking towards the coast and ' occasionally raising his spy-glass to his eye and | scanning his ship as she lay at anchor in the bay. " Hallo ! what the mishiefs up now ?'* exclaimed ] he, lowering his glass and addressing the mate.^^ " Give me the helm, and take the glass, Mr. Tol- | croft ; they surely can*t be putting the slaves on \ board already. Mr. Allan would never dare to dis- .\ obey my orders, and yet it appears to me that those i three canoes are full of blacyk figures," The mate, thus addressed, gave the helm to his i commander, and giving his everlasting quid a roll ^ between his teeth and his cheek, he raised the glass c to his eye and peered long and earnestly in the I direction of the bay. ] TrtK OABIN boy's STORY. 101 *^ What do you make of it ?'* aslred the captain. The mate lowered his g^lass, chuckled in an un- der-tone, as though he were laughing internally — the nearest approach to merriment he ever showed. *' I guess Cap'n Seymour as King Kettle is ex- pending the old *uns," said he. "Yes, by gum! there go the woolly heads — one, two, three, four on *em overboard from the foremost canoe — and there goes a batch from the second one. They eat very mooch rice," he added, and so old Kettle thinks it just as well the sharks should eat them afore they breeds a famine,'* and again he gave vent to the peculiar chuckle until his frame appeared to shake with suppressed merriment. He's a 'tamal old cuss, that Kettle, sure?y," he exclaimed, as he handed the spy-glass back to the captain, and again took the helm. The captain raised the glass again. *' It is so, I declare," said he ; *' well, poor devils ! It can't be helped — they'd come to that at last, and the sooner, perhaps the better for themselves. By Jove ! I believe the whole twenty-five are overboard now, and he must have tied stones to their legs, for they have all sunk — no, there are two black specks striking out for the land, and the canoe is turned in chase of them ; they must have got clear of the weights attached to them. What will Kettle do now, I wonder ?" He kept the glass to his eye a minute longer, and then added — " By Heaven! the old scamp is beating out their brains with the pad- dles — Faugh I" and with a slight shudder, he lowered the glass and turned away his head. "Sich things can't be avided in our business," said Tolcrott, coolly; "for my part, I'm used to sich sights now, and thinks nothin'on 'em." " Ugh !" exclaimed the captain, " I think nothing of blowing out a man's brains when my blood is up, or in a fair fight ; but I can't abide such sights as these." 102 THE CABIN 1?0"S'S STOUT. ** You were allers too soft about them *ere matters, Cap*n," responded Tolcroft. " Lor bless you, I thinks no thin* on it now — ^no more does most as has followed the trade for any length of time. I sailed one v*yage with Cap*n junot ; and tho' I can't say much for the Frenchman's seamanship, or for the AhcipUne of bis craff, I must grive him the credit to I say, that he took them *ere indispensable matters aa i coolly as possible. It was quite a credit to his ^^osophy ; for arter all, them niggers bean*t o* the ] same flesh and blood as other humans ; and I doubt, for the matter o' that, if they be of the same account, , humanly speaking, as a good dog — more 'specially a Newfunlan*, or any o* them larger and more val'able breeds." The captain did not reply to the philosophical argument of his mate ; he had probably not listened to it, or had forgotten all about the subject, for he had seated himself in the stern sheets and was \ absorbed in thought. It took the pinnace, with the \ utmost exertion on the part of the crew, nearly a \ week to reach the town of Quaddah, which was a ^ collection of several hundred negro huts, and con- ] tained perhaps six or seven thousand inhabitants. < It was in fact larger than Loando, the sea-board j capital of the country, and was a place of consider- ^ able traflSc with the natives of the interior, in con- j sequence of its being the chief depot of the slaves • that were shipped to the Loango coast. The town ) contained, besides the huts already mentioned, 1 several long low huts of large dimensions, which ; were appropriated to the free use of stranger mer- chants, who brought down from the interior batches I of slaves to dispose of to King Kettle and his agents —and the slave depot was an immense hut of similar f construction, surrounded with a strong reed fence, i over which gigantic negroes were posted as guards to prevent the escape of the slaves, which, however, * was scarcely possible, since all but the children, or > THE CABIN boy's STORY. 103 very aged persons, were manacled with tough green mthes, which in some instances were tied so tight as to cut deep into the flesh of the unhappy captives ; besides they did not betray any signs of thinking of escape ; they seemed to have given themselves up to hopeless despair. Slaves to the number of two hundred were here collected, and the mafooka^ or governor of the town, said that several hundred more were on their way from the interior. Those collected, although less worn out with fatigue than the division which had been driven by forced marches to Majumba, were of much the same class. They were all entirely naked, and of all ages and both sexes. They were divided into gangs, the owners of each gang having charge over their own property, which, on the arrival of Captain Seymour, they brought out of the block-house and paraded for sale. The countenances of each and all wore an expression of stolid indifference, varied with regard to some by an expression of surprise at the novelty of their situation. They all bore, more or less, the marks of ill-usage, their flesh being covered with blue vveales raised by the lash, which was carried in the hands of the slave-dealers, and applied, as it seemed, for mere amusement, or from the force of habit, and always in a knowiog style, when it was necessary to show off the paces, or to give proof of the activity of a particular slave, who had attracted the notice of a dealer. One only amongst all the asembled group showed traces of emotion ; she was weeping bitterly, but silently, and had crouched into a corner of one of the block- houses with the object, apparently, of escaping notice, and of indulging in her grief. " What's that young woman sitting weeping there in the corner P" said Captain Seymour, ad- dressing the slave dealer, through the medium of the Mcfookay who spoke a little Spanish. The reply was the sharp application of the whip to 104 THE CABIN BO\''s HTOliY. the naked body of the young woman, the pain causing her to spring to her feet, shrinking with anguish. ** What is the matter with her ? She is as hand- Bome a negress as ever I clapped eyes upon," said the captain, repeating his question, " By gum! she's a spry looking lass,'* added jNlr, Tolcroft. " She has lost her children, the slave dealer tells me," replied the Mafooka. " She come a long way from the interior, and had twin children at the breast when Yoorga purchased her. He gave a good price for her to the chief of her tribe, whose wife she was, and he was obliged to take the children, too, though they were too young to be of any use to him. The chief would not have sold her, only his principal wife was jealous, of her charms. You sea senor Capitano, she is a handsome girl, and her price was two muskets and a keg of rum, besides several hands of tobacco.'* " And where are her children?" asked Seymour, in Spanish. ** Senor Capitano demands to know where are the children of the hemba ?'* exclaimed the Mafooka to the slave dealer, who was a great burly negro of the Yunga Jagos tribe, and who was armed with a heavy thong of plaited buffalo hide. **Gone tor food to the lions," replied the negro, playfully flourishing his whip over the shrinking form of the female as he spoke. He then entered into a long explanation with the JIfa/ooA:a— which the latter subsequently interpreted to the captain, from which it appeared that the woman had travel- led nearly a moon's journey, and had carried her children nearly the whole way. She had caused the slave dealer a great deal of trouble, as her progress had necessarily been impeded by the children, and sometimes a vigorous application of the whip had been necessary — that it had been fully applied, the THE CABTX BOY'S STORY. 105 poor creature's back and arms andlegs plainly tes- tified, for they were scarified with sores, some of them still bleeding. " But, she would have died if the children had been taken from her," continued the negro. "At length, passing through a cane- brake — a few days journey from Quaddah — two lions had suddenly rushed from the canes and stood glaring their fiery eyeballs at the cavalcade ; the negroes in charge succeeded in frightening off the animals, and they fled to the cane-brake, but the woman and her children were in the rear, and as they were emerging from the brake, I observed one of the fierce brutes creeping along, apparently for the purpose of making a spring at the mother and her infants. " I fired my musket at the beast," added the negro, "and though he was not hit, the lion skulked into the cane-brake, and then I was angry with the woman and urged her forward to join the rest of the gang ; the children encumbered her. I had had trouble enough with them. I struck her with the whip, and tore the infants from her— throwing them into the path beside the cane-brake — and then dragged the mother to the rest of the gang. She is weeping for her children — it is not uncommon — that's all.*' Captain Seymour made arrangements for the purchase and transportation to Majumba, of one hundred slaves, including among them the Yunga Jagos woman, and then returned to the coast. The cargo arrived a few days after he had reached the port, and the fresh arrivals were placed with those previously picked out from the lot that King Kettle had brought down, until the day of the departure — it being desirable that they should remain ashore as long as possible, so as to be in pretty good condition when shipped. All promising to be in readiness in a fortnight. Captain Seymour prepared to pay his promised 106 THE CAEIN boy's STOEY. second visit to the Island of Annabon, and to the fair recluse of that beautiful Island, the lovely Zuleika. As, however, he was on the point of setting out, a vessel was seen in the oflSng, which the captain soon recognized as the Dolphin, Captain J unot. As she drew nearer, it was perceptible that she had met with severe usuage some way or other, for her top-gallant masts had been carried away, and her progress was so impeded for want of sail, that she stood very slowly into the bay. The pinnace was just under sail when the Dolphin was espied, and Captain Seymour resolved to go on board of her and learn what ill luck had befallen her. CHAPTER IX. The Birth and Parentage of Seymour— His first meeting with Zuleika in the Slave Market at Constantinople — He resolves to educate and then to marry the Greek Girl — The Deception of Antorine Dichet and the Con- sequences thereof— Seymour engages in the Slave Trade — Marries Zuleika and finds her a secluded Home on the Island of Annabon. "We will, in the present chapter, retrace our steps, going back indeed to a period anterior to the date of the commencement of our story. Captain Seymour, at the period that he was first introduced to our reader, was a young man of about six or seven and twenty years of age. "We now propose to give a brief history of his life, since such is necessary for the better comprehension of our narrative. He was a native of one of the Southern States — Virginia, we believe — but from his early childhood until he had passed his twentieth year, his life had been spent in Europe. His father was an Englishman, who had left his native land while still a mere child, the grandfather of Seymour having emigrated to the United States; ndt urged thereto by poverty, or the hope of bettering his condition by directing his energies in a field less THE CAEIN boy's STUTwY. 107 Btocked with laborers, as is generally the case with emigrants, for he was a man of great wealth, and one who boasted his descent from a noble English family, being no other than that of Seymour, whose head was the well-known first proud Duke of Som- erset. Hot-brained and headstrong ; a man of desperate and unbridled passions, to the indulgence of which his great wealth allowed free scope, he had entered the army at an early period of life — as affording a fair field for the dashing, daring energy of his cha- racter. There he had rapidly risen to the rank of Colonel ; when, satisfied with active service, at the age of thirty.five, he had married a young lady every way his equal in birth and fortune, who bore him one son, the father of our present hero. The poor lady was, however, sadly neglected by her dis- solute husband, and she died soon after she had given birth to her son ; it was rumored at the time that she died heart-broken, in consequence of her husband's cruelty and neglect and her knowledge of his flagrant infidelity. He pursued his course of extravagance and dissipation unchecked, until his fortieth year, when he was detected in a scandalous intrigue with the handsome wife of a former bro- ther officer. The consequence was that he received a challenge from the outraged husband, who fell mortally wounded at the first shot from his vile antagonist. There were rumors at the time that foul play had taken place, and that the ball had been abstracted from the pistol of the Colonel's an- tagonist, he having bribed the oflicer's second, who was a creature of his own. The truth was never known ; nor is it a pleasant task to pry into such histories as these ; suflSce it to say, that through the power of his own wealth and the influence of his wealthy connections, the affair was hushed up, on the condition, exacted on the part of his rela- tives, that he should expatriate himself, and that all future relationship on their part be disowned. 108 THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. This was a matter of little consequence to Colonel Seymour, who cared little for family ties, so long as he had unbounded wealth at his command to enalale him to continue — he cared not where — the career of dissipation that had become habitual to him. He converted his wealth into cash, and with the part- ner of his guilt, the widow of the murdered officer, he came to America. Here he pursued a similar course of life for several years, but he died pre- maturely old, shortly after his guilty partner, leav- ing his son Alfred, the father of our hero, full and perfect possession of his immense wealth ; although his extravagance and his improvidence and neglect to a still greater degree had sadly impaired it. Brought up under such instructors, it was no wonder the son had inherited the bad passions, and been trained to the indulgence of the same evil propensities, as had marked his father. He, how- ever, partly retrieved his character, by falling in love with a beautiful and well-born French lady, who had come out from Paris to reside with her guardian in Louisiana, and, after a brief courtship, he married her, and soon after the birth of his son George — he, at his wife's request, went to reside permanently in the city of Paris. There our hero was educated; and from his earli- est youth, he displayed an aptitude for stud y that promised one day to enable him to obtain a position of eminence ; for wealth to help him, step by step, he apparently already possessed. He possessed many of the unprincipled traits of his father's char- acter : but these were so softened down and kept in subjection by his mother, and her gentle attributes were seemingly so blended in his disposition, that his more impetuous passions only served to give a dashing, lively semblance to his disposition — be- fitting a youth of good expectations, and of an ex- terior of remarkable beauty and elegance. His fa- ther died when he was a mere child, leaving his tilE CABIN BOt^S STOBY* 109 Bon the sole heir to his property on the derith of his mother: suhjected only, should she die while he was still a minor, to the guardianship of such ex- ecutors as he should appoint. Madame Seymour was a woman of very delicate frame, and her death occured ahout three years after the decease of her husband, when Georja:e was about fourteen years of age. She bequeathed her only beloved child to the care of a lawyer in whom she had unbounded con- fidence, and who, since her husband's death, had managed her affairs. George, at the period of this occurrence, was at school at Dijon, where he had given promise already of great scholastic attainments. He was deeply grieved at the death of his mother, to whom he was tenderly attached. He returned to Paris to attend the funeral, and to submit himself to the regulations of his guardian, Monsieur Dichet. He had always had an ample allowance from his mother, and Monsieur Dichet, after the funeral had taken place, told him that he intended to increase it considerably ; that his mother had left him the heir of great wealth and that it was but right that he should enjoy it while he was young. He also took every means to lead the impulsive lad into every sort of temptation; for, notwithstanding the good opinion Madame Sey- mour had entertained of him, he was a man utterly devoid of principle, and the last person she would have chosen, had she known his real character, to be the guide and guardian of her beloved and orphan- ed child. M. Dichet had his own ends to serve. We shall see how he carried out his plans. George, eventually, after having been permitted to run loose amidst all the profligacy of the most profligate capital in the world, at an age when he most required the care of a viligant preceptor and adviser, went back to school ; but he was no longer the careful, indefatigable student he had hitherto been. He could not put up with the restraints of llC THt: eiBti^ sot's PSto-Rf. seliolnstic discipline; and now, havinsran abundance of money at his disposal, he was able to purchase over plenty of so-called friends, willing to encourap:e him in setting his tutors at defiance, and, indeed, in undermining the principles of his fellow- students. Still, at times, the recollections of his mother would recall him to his senses, and, perhaps for weeks, he would devote himself to study with as great an intensity as ever; but, by-and-by, all would be forgotten again, and he would break out into greater dissipations than before, until, at length, althousrh on account ot his evident talents and his wealth, his preceptors looked upon his failings with much greater leniency than they would have done upon those of his fellows. His conduct became so outrageous — so de- void of all decency — that he was formally expelled from the college. He wrote to his guardian, say- ing that he should not return to Paris, for he in- tended to travel, and he desired a still greater augmentation of his allowance. This was readily granted, and his conduct even approved of by his rascally guardian, who wrote that it could not be expected that a young man of such splendid expec- tations should confine himself to the rigorous regu- lations of a college ; and he promised to supply him with what funds he required. In company, there^ fore, with one of the tutors of the college — a man of depraved mind — who had watched (knowing his wealth) the reckless career of the young man, and who had gained a considerable ascendancy over him, although, even at this early age (he was but fifteen, although tall and manly enough in appear- ance to pass for eighteen or twenty) George Seymour would submit himself to no person's guidance, he started upon a tour through Germany, which was subsequently extended into Turkey and Asia Minor. Had it not been for the companionship of the worthless tutor, George might still have been saved, Tnr ijoY*s stom". lli but he urged him on to every extravagance, and ridiculed anything like a return to the path of rec- titude. The very spirit of adventure, which the youth possessed, and which is always allied to a certain nobility of soul, might, we repeat, have otherwise led him to take delight in more ennobling pursuits than those he followed under the direction of his vile companion. Thus two years passed away, George, during that period, having visited almost every capital in Ger- many and Austria, and having penetrated into Turkey after first crossing the Black Sea from Odessa to Trebizond, in Asia Minor, he resolved to return to Paris by way of Constantinople and the Mediterra- nean Sea. While at Constantinople curiosity prompt- ed him to visit the slave market, although the com- mon impression that there are to be seen exposed to vulgar gaze the beauties of Georgia, Circassia, or the Isles of Greece is erroneous, these being only shown to Turks of rank and fortune, who, it is expected, have a desire to purchase them for their own harems, or perchance, tor the purpose of making an acceptable gift to some superior. The majority of the slaves exposed openly in the market are negroes and mulattoes of various shades, and the sight in reality offers little novelty to any one who has witnessed the sale of negroes at New Orleans, or any other Southern slave mart. Whilst, however, George Seymour and his tra- velling companion were strolling through the streets, the attention of the former was arrested by the sight of a beautiful child of seven or eight years of age, who was being led up and down the slave market by a female of prepossessing appearance, but whose fea- tures were marked by a ferocity of expression that showed her to be the slave of the most unbridled passions. She was attired, as well as the child, in the dress of the females of the Grecian Achipelago ; 112 THE CABIN boy's STORY. i and evidently, from the anxious glances she cast at those wiio noticed the beauty of the child, she sought , a purchaser for her, j Good God 1" exclaimed George Seymour to his companion, ** can it be possible that that infant is ' for sale I" No doubt of it," answered the ci-devant usher, i whose name w^as Jollette; "both the Greeks and ""^ the Circassians sell their children; but this little i creature is rather young — that is the reason she is s publicly exposed. Were she older you would not get I the chance of seeing her, unless you were favored j by getting the entree into the bagnios where the • slaves destined for the harems of the grand j seigneurs are kept, secluded from the curiosity of .j the vulgar, Fardieu ! Monsieur George, it is as ^ difficult to get a glimpse of one of these veiled beauties before they become inmates of the harem, as it is afterwards." " She is a lovely creature," exclaimed George, whose attention was so earnestly fixed upon the child that he had paid little heed to what his com- panion had said. "Yes, she is pretty enough — mais tres 'petite — i a mere child.*' | *' And the most beautiful child I have ever seen," i responded George. See what hair — thick, soft, j and long, and glossy as silk. It shines in the sun j like threads of gold— and what eyes, and eyebrows, \ and eyelashes !" X. And vvhat a smooth forehead, and what a straight y Grecian nose, and what a round, finely moulded chin, % and fair, pure complexion," said M. Jollette, laugh- ft ing. You see, George, I can admire the points of female beauty as well as you ; but, ma foil it is so I much admiration thrown away upon one so young. \ Farbleu! If you could only get admission into jronder bagnio now— or were this damsel eighteen ] instead of eight years of age, it would be another i matter." — f} THE CABIN BOY'S STOEY. US While this conversation had been going on, the object of the youth's admiration had been gazing about her with an expression of bewildered delight at the novelty of her situation, apparently uncon- cerned—probably ignorant of the fate to which she was evidently destined. The female who had her in charge, however, had noticed tke admiration that shone in the ardent gaze of the younger of the Frank strangers, and she addressed him in a Greek patois which, with the knowledge of the Greek language he had ac- quired at school, and which was still fresh in his memory, aided by the practice he had had in the various dialects during the last six months of his travels, young Seymour, could, with some little difficulty, manage to comprehend. " Would the Frank milord buy the child ?** she asked. What does the woman say, George?" inquired M. Jollette, whose attention had been elsewhere directed, but who had heard the woman's voice. " As well as I can make out, she asks if I will buy the child," replied George. ** Ha, ha, ha I" laughed M. Jollette. " Mon dieu ! cest drdle ga! A precious bargain you would have, my friend. If, as I said, the girl were eiglitt-en, now, there would be some sense in it ; but, Farbleu ! even then, you could not carry her to Paris." Not heeding the badinage of his companion, George had entered into a broken conversation with the woman. Is the child your own ?" he asked. Mine to sell, monsieur," replied the woman. " But is she vour daughter — your own child ?" The woman smiled, but diil not reply. ^' Where do you come from V "From Scio, Signor/' said the woman, altering the title she gave the querist at each reply— some- 383 F 114 THE CABIN BOY'S STOUT. tiroes giving the French, sometimes the Italian, and sometimes the Spanish title of respect, ** Are you a native of that Island ?" ''SiSenor," " And the child also ?" **ut the two infernal brigs, both lying off and on in Tabou, what should I see j THE CABIK boy's STOBY. 135 tho bay. their boats being ashore watering. It wa.s before daylight in the morning, and the land being high thereabouts and they close under it, I never saw them till they had me in the trap, although, curse them, they had seen the Dolphin in the ot- ting. The first I knew of their proximity was, bang —bang— bang ; by G — d, a whole broadside poured into the Dolphin, though luckily the shots were fired too high ; they wanted to hit the lower masts and topmasts, and the d — Is only managed to carry away my top-gallant masts. As soon as the smoke cleared away a bit, and I recovered from my aston- ishment at this warm reception, I saw plainly enough both crafts loosing their courses— they were only under their topsails, but were setting their top-gallant sails to make chase. " You may be sure I backed out fast enough and got clear of the point before they had got their boats aboard and were ready to follow me. They thought they had disabled me, no doubt, and there- fore wern't in any great hurry ; but they were de- ceived. The Dolphiu was too much for them, even without her top-gallant sails, and after a few hours* chase, in the course of which I ran them nearly hull down, they returned into port, and 1 shaped the best of my course here. Now you have heard all I have got to say." "Damnation !" exclaimed Seymour, stamping his foot with vexation. ** We shall have them down upon us here, both together ; and here have I got my cargo of darkies all ready for shipment. This is a d— 1 of a job.'* ** I don't think there's any cause for alarm, J/bw- sieur Capitaine** replied Junot. *' They've been cruising oil' here for several weeks, and old Kettle has thrown them oif the scent. My opinion is that having seen me oflt" I'abou, they'll search the whole length of the Ivory aod Gold Coasts, down to Cape Cfa^i Ca.s tie— thinking that it is* thereabouts we are 136 THU CABIN boy's STORY. likely to search for our freight. To my knowledge there is a lot of Portuguese craft hanging about there, and they'll bo so busy with them that they'll give us plenty of time to be olf from this. That's why I shaped my course here, as soon as I got out of sight of the cape. Altogether, there's not much harm done, except the loss of my top-gallant spars." If that's all, I can soon replace them. I was just going off to Annabon, but I'll return on shore and put tilings in train first, in case of accident.'* Seymour gave orders for the pinnace to be hauled alonj;;side, and getting on board he returned to the town, the Dolphin meanwhile coming to an anchor in the Bay a short distance from the Albatross. Under the present circumstances Captain Sey- mour thought it advisable to proceed with the ship- ment of his cargo of slaves without delay ; that is to say, he caused them to be put on board immediate- ly, with the exception of some of the women, among whom was the Yunga Jagos woman, whom he thought it was perhaps advisable to allow to remain on shore, and to recruit their strength as much as possible before they were consigned to the horrible packing of a slave ship's hold, even under the most favorable circumstances. The slaves daily expected from Quaddah he ordered to be also taken on board as soon as they arrived, with the exception of such of the females as might have become fatigued and weakened during the journey; these were to be placed with the other women, and every means em- ployed to restore them to health, and having thus arranged matters, ordering Mr. Tolcroft, in case he heard anything of the arrival of the cruisers in the neighborhood, to take all on board forthwith, and to proceed to Annabon and lay off and on for him, he left, in the pinnace, for that island. He resolved that he would not, under any circumstances, disap- point Zuleika, although be feared that his promised THE CABIN boy's STORY. 137 visit would be necessarily mucli abridged. Mean* while Captain Junot, havings been provided with rough spars from the Albatross, set his carpenter to work to make new top-g^allant masts and yards, and busied himself in hastening the chiefs in their exertions to procure him a cargo. The passage of the pinnace to the island was ef- fected as rapidly as upon the former occasion— and late one evening, within the specified period of six weeks, the boat was grounded in the little bay which formed the only harbor, and Seymour leaped on shore, eager as he ever was, to meet the only object of his love, and hurried on through the dark- ness to the cottage of Zuleika. Nearly three weeks had elapsed since the evening on which the attack of the venomous snake upon Harry had led to the singular conduct of Zuleika, after she had caused the fainting boy to be carried into her own private apartment by the negro Ninez. The reader will recollect that we left Zuleika in tears upon the couch, and Harry standing gazing upon her, scarcely conscious, and utterly unable to reply to her invectives. Several minutes he stood thus; at length he ven- tured to approach the weeping girl, and gently took her hand. " Dear Zuleika," he said, "do not repulse me. I am sufficiently wretched ; indeed I am incapable of doing or thinking of evil towards you." The young girl's hand trembled in his grasp, and a con\nilsive shudder passed through her frame. She had ceased weeping, but her bosom \^as violent- ly heaving, showing the intensity of the feelings that were burning within. She burst into a renew, ed tit of Nveeping as he spoke, and at first made a motion to withdraw her hand; but it was not with- drawn. " Leave me,** she sobbed, leave me. Oh, my God—I cannot talk to-night. Leave me to myself. 138 THE CABIN hoy's STORY. I will try to sleep. To-morrow I will see you; and — Harry — God grant you may be able satisfactorily to account for yourself." Harry did not offer to remain — he knew — he felt —that at present the poor child would be best left to herself ; but he stopped and kissed her brow, and whispered in her ear : " Believe me, Zuleika, all will bo explained —all will be well with you. Seymour loves you devoted- ly. I have had proof of that. I alone am doomed to wretchedness." Harry, as well as the young Greek girl, pressed a : sleepless couch that night, as the haggard looks of \ both in the morning sufficiently testified. Accord- j ing to Zuleika's expressed wish, Harry met her on j the morrow ; he was startled by the expression of ;] her countenance— so grief -worn, so dejected. Poor 1 girl I she had passed a night of intense anguish, felt 1 all the more severely because it was the first real f sorrow she had ever known. Heretofore her life — \ at least since she had passed the age of childhood — i had been as a sunbeam, flitting hither and thither, j enlivening all it gleamed upon. The little troubles \ she had known had been merely as the specks in the j sunbeam, which slightly mar its transparency, with- j out impairing its lightness and beauty. Now it ap- \ peared to her as though her young heart was crush- ed ; as she had expressed herself in her burst of pas- \ sion to Harry — now her idol was shattered; the \ anchor, to the firmness of which she had trusted hei ! ; hopes, had been broken. She had lost *' her hope, j her life, her joy, her all,'* and she felt as though \ that one blow was sufficient to render her future life 1 wretched. j She received Harry in her own apartment, and j for some hours they remained together. It was past \ coon when they came forth. Harry was calm and j composed, and the deep gloom had left the brow of I Zuleika; but a shade of melancholy, imusual to ; THE CABIN boy's STORY. 139 features, still rested upon them, and a strange per- j plexity, as if she could scarcely yet understand what j had been revealed to her in that secret interview, ! was apparent in her countenance. \ Still it was evident that confidence had been res- ; tored ; nay, more than confidence ; for the arm of \ Harry was entwined around the slender waist of his companion, and her hand rested lovingly upon his ; shoulder; and from time to time the Greek girl j raised her head towards Harry^s face, and a glance | of pity, mingled with the expression of perplexity ■ already noticed. They wandered towards the sea \ beach and strolled for some hours along the pebbly \ shore. j "And you are sure, quite sure that he loves me, ! as you say ?" said Zuleika, in reply to some remark i from her companion. \ ** Quite sure," replied the other. "Oh, Zuleika, j I felt as you did, yesterday, when 1 first saw that ■ picture in the locket.*' ] ** And he so much admired the picture ?" said the ' girl, her beautiful features losing, for a time, their ^ melancholy expression, and lighting up into a de- ^ lighted smile. / He did : who could help admiring it V* answered i Harry, kindly ; ** and he told me I should, perhaps, 1 one day see the original, and bade me not to admire ; her too much, lest he should be jealous and Harry \ smiled as he spoke. " Znlieka," he added, I am not i flattering you— but had I been what both you and he deemed me, he mighthave had reason for his warning.'* i The young girl blushed, and innocently, yet arch* ! I ly, asked : ^ l^: *'Doyou, then, think me so very beautiful ?** I ^ "I do." ^! ** Oh, I am so glad of it I" Why Zuleika?" ; ** For George's sake," she replied ; "but you are ; very beautiful, Harry — even disguised as you are. ) Are your country-women handsome 4 140 TKk CAHIN BOY*S STORY. "Many of them exceedingly so; but few, very few Cftn boast of beauty such as yours." Airain the girl blushed, and faUeringly remarked: ** Perhaps George may think some of them more beautiful than me.** *' Set your heart at rest on that score, dear Zu- leikn," replied Harry; " Captain Seymour, I have reason to know, loves you with a love that cannot be surpassed. If you can be happy living in the knowledge of his love, you may well be so." It is time, so far as the reader is concerned, that we raised the veil of mystery which has thus far surrounded Henry Davis — or Jane Miller— for ere this he must have seen through the filmy gauze. Harry's sex was known to Zuleika, but to her alone ; it was a long, long period, and many strange scenes were passed through ere Captain Seymour was aware of the fact. When Jane Miller, therefore, had quitted Zuleika on the occasion mentioned above, and had returned to her own apartment, she struggled long and arduously with her own feelings as to the course she should pursue. She felt convinced of the inno- cence and artlessness of the young Greek girl, and believed that she could easily satisfy her with re- gard to the strong affection Captain Seymour en- tertained towards her. She deeply pitied her in her heart, for she knew nothing of the circumstances connected with her history — nothing of her mar- riage by the Portuguese padre on the island of An- nabon— and she did not therefore know that she was in reality Seymour's wife. This she learnt on the morrow, and while, for Zuleika* s sake, in one sense, she was glad to hear it, she perhaps pitied her still the more. She at first resolved in her own mind that she would tell her all : that she would expose Seymour's character to her, and teach her the true worth of the man upon whom she had be- stowed the whole treasure of her innocent love— for tttfi dAm^ iiOY*s stout. 141 Jane Miller was but human, and she could not help, in spite of herself, feeling a degree of jealousy which, in the first instance, had approached to the verge of hatred towards her successful although innocent and unconscious rival ; but this had died away, and had been succeeded, as we have said, by a feeling of pity and deep sorrow for the future prospects of one whom she was conscious deserved a happier fate than that which was probably in store for her; one who was, by education and natur- al temperament, so little calculated to endure the burden of a broken spirit ; but she changed her mind, and finally determined that she would only explain the reasons which led her to quit her home on so wild, so unmaidenly an adventure. Accord- ingly Zuleika was told that she (Jane Miller) had loved Seymour, and had resolved to follow him to sea, with what purpose she scarcely knew ; but to carry out this object she had forsaken all — mother, home, and friends — but she had discovered, by means of the locket containing the portrait, that he loved another too dearly for his affections ever to be transferred, and she had therefore resolved to bury her secret in her own bosom — to declare it to no one — had not Zuleika so singularly discovered it. All this seemed plausible enough, even right, and as she would herself have acted to the artless, warm-blooded, ardent Greek girl, utterly ignorant of the conventionalities of life. She listened, doubt- ed, and at last avowed her full belief and confidence in the narrator. Thus matters rested when the two girls walked out on the sea beach of the island to- gether. "And now," said Jane, "to you alone, dear Zu- leika, have I entrusted this secret ; it is yours to keep locked within your breast. No sign must be made, no word spoken in the presence of others, which may lead to an exposure. I have told you all in confidence. I have trusted to your generosity. You must not betray me." 142 THE CABIN liOTS STOEY. And I will not," replied Zuleika, pressing tlie hand of her companion. " And you will call me Harry still, and treat me, at least before others, and especially before j'our hus before Captain Seymour, as you have hitherto done." (She could not yet bring herself to acknowledge Seymour to be the husband of Zuleika. Indeed, she believed still that the poor girl had been duped.) ''I will," answered the girl; *' but," she conti- nued, "you will go home in George's ship, and go to your mother's home ap-ain?" "Alas! I dare not return home again. You, Zuleika, are ignorant— happily, perhaps, ignorant of the regulations of society as it exists amongst us. No, no, I have for ever placed a barrier between myself and those near and dear to me. I shall not stay longer than I can help with Captain Seymour. I shall go to Cuba or the Brazilian coast, for thither is the Albatross bound, and not to the United States ; but my future is a blank"— and she men- tally added, " as I fear, my poor child, yours is also." That beach was henceforward, tbe customary and favorite walk of the young women ; for no persua- sions of Zuleika could again tempt Jane to venture into the cane»brakes ; and here, in the cool of tbe evening, they daily strolled, chatting together on various subjects connected with America and the customs of other lands; but the burden of every theme of conversation was sure to resolve itself in the end, on the part of Zuleika, into praises of George Seymour. One evening, while thus strolling, just as they were on the point of going home to the cottage, Zu- leika's practised eye discovered the white sail of Seymour's pinnace in the distance, although to Jane iVliller, it appeared only like the white wing of a sea bird, hovermg low dowTi in the horizon. Zuleika, however, was certain that it was he, returned to THE CABfX BOT*S STORY. pay his promised visit, and she lingered until tl jo boat drew near enough to render assurance doubly sure — then she and Jane hastened to the bay into which the boat had entered, which was a long dis- tance from their accustomed walk, and they met tho captain just as he had turned off from the beach in the direction of the cottage. One moment more, and Zuleika was in his arms, and nestling like a young bird on his bosom. " Ah I my Zuleika— you here to meet me ? By my faith, darling, but I wish I had half a score of such trusty watchers on board the Albatross. And so you saw the pinnace coming into the bay, did you? and Harry, here, too! Well, Harry, how have you and Zuleika managed to get along together? Does Harry speak Castellano yet, Zuleika ? If he doesn't, he must have been a sad laggard, and de- serves to be whipped." Thus gaily conversing, the captain, with Zuleika hanging delightedly upon his arm, and Jane Miller walking behind, strolled loisurely on towards the cottage, and as they ncared ihe plantation, tho negroes rushed out with shouts of delight to welcome his return. A sigh escaped from Seymour's breast : How happy could I be, even here, withZuleika, would fortune and fate allow me such a haven of rest," he. thought to himself; but uo ; it must not be yet, it may never be." Tho joy of the young bride was considerably damped, however, when she learnt that, owing to unforeseen circumstances, her husband's visit must of necessity be considerably abridged, and that two or three days at the furthest was all the time ho could spare. But it will not, let us hope, be much longer, my Zuleika," he added. **One or two voyages more — a year or two at furthest — and then love, we shall be always toge- ther." A year or two ut furthest I Who caa ven- ture to predict what a year or two may bring iorth f U4 tHK CABIN boy's story. But noticing the poor child's dejected looks, he added, *' Cheer up, Zuleika — I will not forgot to bring you out the companion 1 spake of— and then you will have some one to converse with while I am absent. Poor little thing I" and he patted her head and took her upon his knee, as if she had been really but a child, and he her father. ** You must be very dull and lonesome here. Never mind, dar- ling, you shall have gayer times in future." The young girl strove to be cheerful ; her gloom •was always of brief duration, and in a few minutes she was prattling cheerfully — happy in the present, forgetful of the past, and heedless of the future. During the evening the Captain spoke ot Harry — and learnt from Zuleika, that he had been a plea- sant companion to her. Two days after this Captain Seymour quitted the island to return to his vessel, and Zuleika was again left to her solitude — yet — not now to her for- mer solitude, for she had, though her husband knew it not, a female companion. We must now return with the reader to the coast, where the Albatross and Dolphin were taking in their living freight. Mr. Tolcroft had made strenuous exertions dur- ing the Captain's absence, and when he returned he found that his cargo was complete — that is, that he had as many negroes as he could readily take on board, for Captain Seymour abjured what is termed " close packing," which consists in making a row of negroes sit with legs stretched apart, while an- other row is packed between their legs, and so on until the deck is filled. Fearful of the visit of the cruisers, which might again receive information of their presence on the coast, both Seymour and Junot were anxious to get away as quickly as possible ; and as the slaves were by this time brought to the coast in great abundance, this was an easy matter. Thus, in con- THE CABIN boy's STORY. 146 sequence of Junot's freight being ready shortly after he arrived, both vessels were ready to sail to- gether. The last boats took off the women, and the few children that had been purchased . Amongst the latter, Captain Junot had purchas- ed two infants, both seemingly of an age, and both mere babes. Their extreme youth attracted the notice ot Seymour, as Junot was carrying them on board the boat in his arms. "What the d 1!" exclaimed Seymour, laugh- ing, " Captain Junot turned wet nurse. Why, Junot, what are you going to do with that bargairl? Bless me, why they surely are nut yet weaned !" ** They are fine, healtiiy children of the Yunr/a Jior^oj tribe," replied Junot, *'and I have a nurse on my plantation in Cuba, who will bring them up if I can only get them over the water alive. 1 shall make some of the women nurse them. I got the brats cheap — and perhaps they'll turn out a good st)eculation. If not, I can but throw them over- board to the sharks ; they were very nearly becom- ing food for the lions, any way.'* '* How was that ?" inquired Seymour, whose cu- riosity was excited. *' X heard some tale of that sort from the Mafookah at Quaddah." Why they belong to a woman who was lately brought down to the coast — and she, it appears, lagged behind with them, and the driver snatched them from her and threw them into a cane-brake. He had been alarmed by the appearance of lions just before, and he was afraid of losing the woman, who was a handsome girl, and would fetch a good price. But somehow, those beasts are easily scared ; the lions must have got frightened and run away; for another driver passing by shortly aftewards, found the children struggling and squalling by the side of the cane-brake. He picked them up. He thought he could at least get a few hands of tobacco S83 K 145 THE CAV-TN BOT'f STOICr. for them, and he gave thera to hit women and made them take turns to carry them to ihe dep6t— where I took a fancy to buy them." And a strange fancy, too. hy, 1 believe I have bought the mother; that handsome, sleek- looking negress you see in the fcSm- sheets of the boat there, skulking, with her h^d bent on her knees. She'll soon get over it, though ; bnt for heaven's sake keep the children out of her sight." Why not sell me the woman?" asked Junot, ** it'll save me a good deal of bother with the chil- dren." ** No, no, I can't part with her; I took a fancy to her and bought her on my own account. She'll fetch a rousing price— she's as handsome and has as regular features as a quadroon — and her color won't make much odds in the Brazils, whers I am bound." Buy the children of me then?" said Junot. Oh, no I pray excuse me, Captain Junot, 1 want none so young as them on board the Albatross; i wish you joy of your bargain. Upon my word you are a fascinating child's nurse — for pity's sake don't let the children get sight of your face," and Sey- mour, laughing at his joke, walked towards his own boat, which lay at some distance from that of Cap- tain Junot. both boats, however, put off together, and the motion caueed the infants to cry. The mother heard and knew the wail of her infants' voices, borne across the waters, and she grew frantic. It was with diffi(;ulty she could be withheld from leaping overboard. She was, however, safely lodged on board. The next day the vessels sailed in company, and for two days they kept together. "That are spry-looking lass takes on terrible about her children," said Mr. Tolcroft to his com- mander ou the third morning. " Mr. Allen tells me she won't eat anything — it's my opinion sh« means to starve herselk/' CABIN BOY*a STOR"?. 147 Bring her upon deck and place her aft here ; tie her hands through to one of the stancheons, or else she'll be jumping overboard. How do the negroes get on generally, Mr. Tolcroft ?" " Why passably well ; ten died on the first day and four yesterday. Allen only picked out two dead un's this morning, he tells me~but there's three or four gone stone blind with that disease they allera catches when they first start — it would be just as well to heave 'em overboard at once." ** Let the poor d — Is die first, Tolcroft ; I never could fancy that tossing overboard alive, unless in case of some great emergency. Bring up the woman, however." ** I allers said you were too kind-hearted, Captain Seymour," replied Tolcroft, as he turned to execute the order. ** For my part, 1 goes in for no onneces eary cruelty, but they will die in a day or two at any rate, and its only a useless consumption of pro- visions. Now there's Captain Junot, he " " Captain Junot can do as he pleases on board his vessel, as I will do on board mine," interrupted Seymour, sharply; ** bring up the woman." The poor creature was brought up and fastened to a stancheon near the wheel. Hallo ! What the devil have we here, the cruisers by G — dl" suddenly exclaimed Seymour, as two sail came out from beneath a headland, along which the two slavers were coasting. Junot is close in shore, and they'll have him to a certainty — the fool 1 I advised him to keep a good offing. Ha I all hands on deck— aloft; make sail there. We must show our heels. It'll never do to be captured with all these slaves on board," shouted the captain; ar.d in a few moments all was bustle and confusion. The Albatross was soon tearing along at a rapid speed away from the coast ; but the Dolphin, hav- ing less wind in shore, found it impossible to escape. It soon became evident that she had struck her flag. 148 THE CABIN boy's STORY. **The fool! the coward! muttered Seymonr, between his teeth. " I would have blown her up before I would have surrendered," One of the cruisers now bore down towards the Albatross, while the other took possession of the prize. It was soon evident, however, that the chase would be of no avail ; and the captain fairly danced with glee when he saw his ship gradually creeping away further and further from her pursuer. *'Hey? what's that?" he cried, as he heard a sudden splash in the water astern. It's the woman that was brought up here just now," said the man at the wheel ; she has niana- ged to loosen her hands, and has jumped overboard." It was true. In the excitement of the chase no one had perceived her, and the poor creature had freed her limbs and leaped overboard— either to .seek an ocean grave, or else in the hope that she could gain the ship on board of which she knew her chil- dren to be. The latter appeared to bp, the case, for she struck out boldly in the direction of the approaching cruiser. ** C n !" muttered Seymour, "that girl would have fetched me a thousand dollars. Lower away the boats," he shouted ; " we'll have her yet. By G — d, she swims like a fish. No, no ; keep all fast— T forgot ; we can't afford to lose time, with that d d cruiser at our heels.'* And the woman was left to her fate. It soon became evident, however, that she would be enabled to keep afloat until the man-of-war reach- ed her, and she was watched with much anxiety from the ship. The water was smooth, and she could be seen from a great distance. ** She's gone, I believe," said Seymour, watching the black spot on the water -with his glass. ** No — there— she's up again. I wonder if the man-of-war will 'round to' to pick her up. If she stops to do that we're safe. No, by heaven I she showa no THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. 149 •ign of seeing her. Ah I yes, she does. There go the studding: sails— alow and aloft! Up goes her fore course!" She sweeps round gracefully to the wind. Men are seen in the larboard chains with ropes, which they heave to the poor drowning wretch as the ship " sags" down upon her. She seizes a rope— is haul- ed alongsside — half a dozen stout arms are extended, and the Tunga Jagos woman is safe on board the man-of-war. But will she be restored to her children P The vessel they are on board of is a prize to her preser- vers. We shall see. " Well, she's safe, and I don't know that 1 am sorry for it," said Seymour. *' I've lost her, but she has served us, too, with her tantrums— she's enabled us to get far ahead of the cruiser. Aye, fill away, my hearties ! brail up the skysail ! shiver the main and mizzen— brace round the fore yard — ^right your helm and away. What — you're going to try it again, are you ? Ha! ha ! ha I A snail might as well try to catch a hare. No, you've thought better of it, and are hauling your wind. Well, best be satisfied — you've got one prize, at all events. Junot's a d d poltroon, and he merits his fate." Thus speaking, Seymour turned away his head, for it was clear that the cruiser had given up the chase, and directed his attention to his own vessel, resolving to keep her on the present course, to make assurance doubly sure, till nightfall. He saw no more of the cruiser, and the next morning he shaped his course to Aracati, on the coast of Brazil, whither he was bound; the destination of the unlucky Dol- phin having been to Trindad de Cuba. 150 THE CABIN "BOY's STORY. CHAPTER XII. Frank Martin's dangerous escape from the slaver—Ilia rescue from the wieck by the G iiigate — Miss Her- bert is introduced to the reader. Mehrily onward, with a top.gallant breeze bearing her rapidly over the yielding waters, and a sky above clear and serene as that which canopies the soil of Italy, sped the Albatross, on her way towards her destined port in the Brazils. Merrily onward, to outward seeming— the gallant bark, a thing of light, almost of life. Cheerily across the billowy ocean, born* by the breeze, is heard— long after the 8un has sunk beneath the western horizon— the song of the mariners, as they sit on the forecastle, ming- ling their voices in a rude, but — heard under these circumstances — a not unmusical sea ditty; the dul- cet tones of the violin and the flute, not touched by the hands of artists, and giving forth melody such as would please the ears of musical connoisseurs- add depth and richness to the vocal strains ; for the rippling waters parted by the swift keel of the ves- sel, unite in the chorus, and the dying cadence melts slowly, faintly away in the gentle breeze. Merrily onward, to outward seeming, for a successful voy- age has been all but accomplished, the dangers that threaten all illegal pursuits are passed, and a rich harvest in silver and gold — the price of human flesh and blood awaits the adventurers — merrily on, to outward seeming! but what a world of woe, of an- guish unutterable, is hidden in the hold of that gal- lant bark. In the course of a few weeks the Albatross with its living freight arrived safely in the harbour of Aracati, and the negroes were quickly conveyed up ihe Sagaldo river and disposed ofto slave merchants who subsequently took them to Bahia, Pernambuco, Marhanham. and other large Brazilian cities, and THE CABIN boy's STORY. 151 easily aud rapidly again sold them at a large profit. Captain Seymour was well pleased as he surveyed the heaps of gold that his adventure had brought, as it lay piled upon the cabin table. The crew were called down one by one, and their wages paid and a douceur of two hundred dollars presented to each in addition, and each was asked if he would ship for another voyage— after having been allowed a rea- sonable time on shore to spend his ill -gotten wages, and to revel in the drunkenness and debaucheries peculiar to seamen on the termination of a voyage. All agreed, for they were pleased with the results of the voyage — and satisfied with the treatment they had met with from the captain. " Now, Mr. Tolcroft, call the boy Frank down," said the captain to the chief mate. Frank Martin made his appearance in the cabin. " Well, Frank/' said Captain Seymour, " consid- ering all things, my boy, we have had a very pros- perous voyage, and I am well satisfied. Your arti- cles of indenture, I find, guarantee you six dollars a month, besides providing lor your board and clothing. Here is the amount due to you, and I have added twenty-five dollars, as a present, out of my own pocket. 1 am well satisfied with your conduct. You will make a good seaman by-and-bye; and I shall interest p.»yself with Mr. Mordant to further your advancement." Frank thanked the captain, and counted his money. ** I suppose," continued Captain Seymour, *' you would like a run on shore with the rest for a day or two. This is Wednesday ; Mr. Tolcroft tells me that everything is in order on board. We shall sail on Saturday for Pernambuco. To-morrow and Fri- day you can have to yourself." If you please, sir," said the lad, I should like to leave the Albatross, and go on board some other of Mr. Mordant's vessels to serve out the remainder of my time." 152 THE CABIN boy's STORY. u Why— what's the matter, boy ? What fault do you find with the Albatross or her Captain asked Seymour. "I have no fault to find with either, sir," re- sponded Frank. *' Why, then, do you wish to leave ?'* " When I joined the Albatross, I had no idea of the trade in which she was engaged,'* said the boy, rather hesitatingly. *'0h! so you are troubled with scruples of con- science, are you?" replied the captain, smiling ironically. "Well, let me think what's best to ba done under these circumstances. Mr. Tolcroft," addressing the mate, " I promised this youth a couple of days* liberty on shore ; but, since his con- science is so easily touched, he will undoubtedly be desirous of avoiding the scenes of license and de- bauchery he will witness if he runs loose amongst his shipmates — so see that he does not quit the vessel on any pretext. And you may as well give me back the money I have paid you, my lad. Since you have no occasion to spend it, it will be safer in my trust." " Please, sir, I think I have earned my wages, at least," diffidently replied the lad ; but his further speech was interrupted by the captain who said, sharply— ** Place the money back again on the table, sir ; and, since you are so exceedingly conscientious, go on deck to your duty, and see that you attend to it strictly. It's really a pleasure to have so scrupulous a youth on board the Albatross to remind her cap- tain of his duties. Mr. Tolcroft,** he added, " see that this young man's clothing is brought aft imme- diately, and placed in the cabin ; and take care that on no account he quit the vessel. You can go on deck, sir," addressing the boy; and Frank Martin, rather crestfallen, ascended the companion ladder. " That boy must be looked after,** said the cap- tain to thtt mate, when the lad had retired* " He'U THE CABIN BOX'S STOEY. 153 j make a good seaman by-and-byj— but I thought at ] the lime it was a foolish whim on the part of Mr. ] Mordant to put him on board the Albatross. Indeed, had I not felt satisfied that he knew more than it ! appears he did know, I would not have taken him j on board at all. Once here, however, hero he must \ remain," \ "I'll keep a sharp eye on the youngster," said i the mate. ] **Do so," replied the captain; "but don't be ] harsh with him. Probably by good treatment we 1 may bring him round. Harsh measures will only | strengthen him in his foolish notions." \ "I've known many such a lad, as had them 'ere j scruples of conscience, as you call *em, to tumble j overboard accidentally/ on a dark night," said the ] mate, leering horribly, and giving vent to his accus- , tomed chuclde, when he thought he had said a good thing I The captain did not reply ; and the conversation ] turned upon matters connected with the ship. Frank had determined, if his remonstrance with ■ the captain failed, to quit the ship at all hazards, j but in his eagerness he had overshot his mark, and he now found himself in an awkward predicament — for, even if he managed to effect his escape, what < was he to do without clothing or money ? In one regard, however, his plan was facilitated, for neither the captain or mate thought he would venture to ! make the attempt in his present position— and thus \ casting himself on shore in the condition of a ship- \ wrecked seaman — therefore, though he was not ' allowed to leave the vessel, no very strict watch ' was kept over him during the day, though one or j other of the mates kept watch on deck at night. Frank saw that his chances were desperate — still , he resolved to make the attempt. On the Thursday ^ not a chance occurred, but on the Friday he was sent over the side to paint the white streak on the > 1 154 THE CABIN boy's STORY. water line. The town of Aracati con&ists but of a few hundred houses on the north side of a small bay; end the other shores are covered with wood and thicket to the margin of the beach. The vessel lay at anchor not more than a quarter of a mile dis- tant from the wooded shores, and about a mile from the town, with her stern towards it. The captain was sitting on a hen coup beneath the awning on the quarter deck, on the larboard side, busily occu- pied in reading. All the crew but the cook, and two of the mates, were ashore ; and the two latter were stretched at full length in the hammock net- tings, on the same side the deck as the captain, and lazily smoking their cigars. Consequently, Frank could slip into the water from the starboard bow un- perceived, and as he hoped to reach the shore by swimming, and penetrate into the woods before his flight was discovered. He made an excuse to come on deck, to reconnrbre and see that all was right ; and finding the captain and officers still in the same position, and the cook busily employed in the galley, he again descended to the plank, and gently let himself off into the water. He was unperceived, and had swam perhaps one hundred j'ards before it was known that he had left the vessel's side ; but unfortunately at this moment the cook came to the side of the ship to draw a bucket of water for some culinary purpose. He missed the lad from the plank, and casting his eyes toward the shore, saw him at a distance boldly striking out for the shore. He immediately gave the alarm, and the captain and mates were on their feet in an instant. " Curse the fellow," said the captain, stamping his feet with vexation. But he's not far off, Til spoil his sport yet. Hand me a musket, Mr. Allan.** The second mate took one from the rack round the mainmast, which was always kept full of mus- kets, pikes, and cutlasses when the vessel was in porty and handed it to the captain. THE CABTN BOY's STOEY. 155 Hilloa there 1" shouted Captain Seymour to the boy, " come back here, you scoundrel, come back, or 1*11 fire at you." Whether the boy heard his voice or not, the com- mand was unheeded ; he still swam boldly, manfully on towards the shore. " Bang ?" went the musket, and the ball whizzed through the air, striking the water some distance astern of the swimmer, whence it bounded and re- bounded, skipping along past his ears. "By I've missed him this time," said the captain, hand me another musket, Allen, and take one yourself; and you, too, Tolcroft — I'll show the young scoundrel the penalty of breaking my orders. He'll never break any others." The boy had heard the report and the whiz of the ball as it bounded past him, and sunk at last some yards in advance; he had momentarily turned his head, but only to turn it back again and redouble his efforts to escape. " Now, Tolcroft and Allan, take good aim and steady. Fire!'* shouted the captain, and the three reports were simultaneously heard. Again the balls whistled through the air ; but Frank had, during the interval, placed several yards of greater distance between himself and the vessel, and the bails touch- ed the water at a greater distance behind him than the single bullet had done before— again they skip- ped and bounded over the surface, straight towards him, but they sank ere they reached him. "Confound the useless things I** said the captain, throwing his musket contemptuously to the deck — "lower a boat/* he shouted, by 111 have him yet, dead or alive.*' But a boat was now not so easily lowered ; the pinnace and long-boat were secured amidships, ready for the ship's sailing on the following day — the jolly-boat was on shore with the third mat**, and the captain's gig, the only remaining boat, had THE CABIN boy's STORY. been hoisted on board and turned keel up, for the purpose of bein^ painted; the paint v/as not yet dry. Frank had been employed upon it, and he had well calculated the difficulty there would be in sending a boat after him. " D — n the paint I" shouted the captain, in reply to some remark of the mate's in regard to it — *' overboard with the boat, quick?" we'll be able to catch the young scamp before he reaches the shore and the boat was hoisted over the side as quickly as possible; the captain himself assisting at the tackles. Both mates and the captain sprang into it, and seiz- ed an oar a-piece, the captain using his whale- boat fashion, to steer as well as to aid in propelling the boat. The chase was an exciting one. Frank had reach- ed within a comparatively short distance of the shore during the time that had been occupied in getting the gig into the water ; but his strength was beginning to fail him — nevertheless he strained every nerve— swiftly the boat cleft the smooth waters of the bay in pursuit, and earnestly the pursuers bent to the oars, for there was excitement in the chase ; but their efforts were useless. When within one hundred yards or less of the boy, the latter touched the shore, turned round, waved his hand as if in exultation or derision, and disappear- ed in the woods. * * Pull in, pull in — run the boat right upon the beach," cried the captain. " We may catch him yet," and in a few minutes more the boat was on the shore, and the captain and mates had sprung out and penetrated into the woods ; but the boy was lighter and more active than they. They found a difficulty in pushing through the tangled weeds, ftnd brushwood, and soon gave up the search as useless, and returned to the ship, wearied with their exertions. " By Heaven 1" said Seymour, as he reached the THE CABIN boy's STORY. 157 vessers deck, " the boy deserves to escape for his couragre ; but his escape may be an awkward mat- ter. I should have liked to have cau^^ht him." " Or to have shot him," chuckled Tolcroft. Frank spent the night in the woods, sleeping amongst the branches of a lofty tree, where he thought he would be secure from the attacks of wild beasts or venomous reptiles — nor did he venture out until the evening of the following day, and then, with the exception of one or two Brazilian coasters, the bay was devoid of shipping. The Al- batross had sailed for Pernarabuco. Footsore and half famished, he reached the to^vn, and there he procured somo simple refreshment and the rest he so much needed in the hut of a negro, to whom he related his adventures, as well as he could, for he knew but a few words of the broken patois spoken by the blacks. However, he found no diflSculty in getting a berth on board one of the coasting crafts in the harbor, which was bound to Para— there he joined another vessel, and worked his passage to Maranham, and thence he procured a berth on re- gular wnges to New Orleans. "What little money was coming to him on his arri- val at the latter port, together with his advance money, he spent in such clothing as was necessary, and shipped on board a cotton vessel bound to Liverpool. Just at sunrise one fine morning, about three weeks after young Martin had sailed for Liverpool, the captain of a fine vessel, the appearance of which would have told at once, even to the least practised eye, that the ship was a ship of war, came on deck, and addressing the officer of the watch, said ; '* Mr. Ross, let the watch keep a sharp look out. We ought to sight the island of Barbadoes before * seven 158 THE CABIK boy's STORt. **Aye, aye, sir," responded the officer, touching the peak of his cap with his forefinger, and lowering the spy-glass which for some time he had kept pointed across the water leeward. Having replied to his captain's command, and given the necessary instructions to the men, he again raised the glass to his eye in the same direction. ** Our ohservations indicate that we are to leeward of the island, Mr. Ross," said the captain to the young lieutenant; 1 don't think you'll sight the land in that direction.** It's not that I'm looking for, sir," replied the officer; "but since it grew daylight, half an hour ago, I've seen a black speck thereaway to leeward, which I can't make out properly. I first caught sisrht of it as I was sweeping the horizon with my glass at daybreak. I thought at first it was a rock ; then that it was a float of sea- weed ; and then that it was a boat; but really, I can make nothing at all of it." The captain took the glass from his hands, and peered long and earnestly through it himself. " 1 can't make it out,'* he said, at last. " As you say, it does look like a boat sometimes, and yet, at. other times, it looks like a mass of sea-weed. If 1 thought it was really a boat I would bear down to it ; but we have to beat to windward to weather the island, and we should lose so much ground. Here, Mr. Miller," he exclaimed turning to the midship- man of the watch, who was standing on the lee side of the deck, *'your eyes are younger than mine or Mr, Ross's either ; take you the glass and see what you can make of that object.*' The youth touched his cap, advanced, and took the glass from the captain. He peered through it for some minutes, and then said : ** It does not look like a boat, sir, unless it is bottom up ; but I think I can see some figures moving upon it. It looks to me as if they were waving something or other for a THK CABIN boy's STORY, 1.59 signal of distrei«s ; but tho object is so distant and so small that I cannot properly make it out." *' On deck, there 1" shouted an old quarter-master, who, some time before the captain had come on deck, had been sent aloft by the lieutenant with a spy ^lass, to see if he could make anything out of the dark object. Halloa ! what is it ?" answered the officer. " That dark object is a boat capsized, and two figures are clinging to it, sir," replied the seaman. ** I could not make it out at first, but the sun is shining right upon it now. They are waving some- thing to attract our attention." ** We'll run down toward the object, Mr. Ross," said the captain, ** until we are near enough to lower a boat, and then * heave to " and the officer immediately gave the necessary orders to trim the yards and alter the vessel's course. As the ship drew nearer, it became quite evident that it was indeed a boat, floating keel upwards — the keel barely out of the water, borne down as it was by the weight of two human beings, who were apparently lashed to the rudder stem — and from the appearance of several pieces of wreck, and burnt and charred wood, and masses of cotton burnt to a cinder, and floating heavily upon the water, it was apparent that some sad catastrophe had occur- red. It was immediately and correctly surmised that a cotton ship had taken tire, burnt to the water's edge and sunk, and that the hapless beings, to whom help was now arriving, were probably the sole survivors of the crew. The sloop of war was **hove to," and a boat low- ered and rapidly pulled towards the poor creatures, and it shortly returned with a lad and a young woman, both of whom were in such an exhausted state that they were unable to move or speak— -a few hours more of exposure, and all human aid would have availed naught, for the female was already in- sensible. IGO THE CABIN boy's STORY. They -were lifted gently aboard and carefully tend- ed by the surgeon and his assistants, and in a short time' the youth had recovered sufficiently to tell his story. The surgeon came on deck and reported the fact to the captain. ** And the young woman ?** said the captain in- quiringly ; she is not past recovery I hope ?" **No, I trust ve shall be able to bring her round yet — indeed she has already shown symptoms of re- viving ; but, poor thing, she was all but gone when she was brought on board." ** I will see the lad directly," said the captain, ** and hear his story. 1 suppose the young woman was a passenger. Perhaps she was* the captain's wife, poor creature." **No, I don't think she is a married woman," re- plied the doctor; "at any rate, she wears no wed- ding ring : but here is a locket, containing the por- trait of a young man, which was suspended by a blue ribbon to her neck— and I took this ring from her finger. It is rather a curiosity," and the doctor handed the trinkets to the captain, saying, 1 must go down below again, and see how my patients are getting on." The captain took the locket and ring in his hands, and slightly glanced at the former, but the latter attracted more notice. He examined it curiously, and then handed it to the lieutenant, remarking, A quaint, curious device, that, Mr. Koss. I never saw a ring like it before; but I must go below and see what the youth has to say." The ring which the captain handed to the lieu- tenant, was a plain circlet of gold, with a massive setting, consisting of a star ot small but pure pearls, and an emerald heart in the centre, and the letter J" was engraved inside. It was a curiosity, and evidently ot considerable value. The reader will scarcely require to be informed THE CABIN boy's STOET. 161 that the sloop-of-war was the U. S. ship G , Commander P , on board of which young Miller, the brother of J ane Miller, had received an appoint- ment as midshipman. She had been to Pernambu- 00, and, after lying in the harbor some weeks, awaiting orders from the commodore,- had received instructions to sail for Havanna, with despatches to the American man-of-war in that harbor, which were subsequently to be sent to the United States Government ; and after delivering these to the com- manding oflacer of the American ship, the G was ordered to proceed, as young Miller had antici- pated, to the coast of Africa, The captain descended below, and questioned the young lad who had been picked up from the wreck, as to the particulars of the disaster which had be- fallen him, and which had left so few yet sad traces behind. '* What is your name, my man ?" inquired the captain. Frank Martin, sir," replied the youth. " And the name of the vessel, which, I presume, has been burnt ?** " The Laurel, of Liverpool, loaded with cotton, from New Orleans. The vessel caught fire ten days ago, ofi the Bahama islands, but a considerable dis- tance to the southward and westward of them. We were not in sight of any land, and could get no assistance. The fire burnt slowly for several days, and we had hopes of getting it under ; but at last it burst forth from the hold, and we found that any further effort to save the vessel would be useless. We had barely time to get out the boats ; for in an hour after the fire had burst from the hatch- ways, the vessel and rigging were one sheet of living flame. " We had three boats, and they held the whole of the crew and a considerable quantity of provisions, but they were sady overloaded. " The night after we took to the boats a sudden 383 L 162 •THE CABIN BOY S STOllY. gale arose, which, lasted several hours. The Jolly boat, on board of which was the young woman you have saved, together with myself and five others, was capsized, and all the others were drowned. I managed to seize hold of the rudder of the boat, and seeing the young woman struggling near me, I seized a portion of her clothing and dragged her towards me, and succeeded in making both of us fast to the stem of the boat. In the morning, when the gale moderated, no sign of the other boats was to be seen — they were deeply loaded, for everybody had crowd- ed into the larger boats. I fear they are lost. Since yesterday morning we have been tossing to and fro, immersed to our shoulders in water, and the upper portions of our bodies exposed to the sun during the day and to the cold at night. I saw the ship this morning, and attempted to call the attention of the young woman to it ; but she was even then insensible. I thought she was dead, but the doctor says she is reviving. I managed to wave my neckerchief, as well as I could with my stiffened arms, and at last had the happiness of seeing that we had been observed, and that the course of the vessel was altered, and she was bearing down towards us.** At this moment the surgeon approached and said, " I am happy to inform you that your companion in peril is out of danger, and will soon recover. I have left her sleeping soundly. Who is she—a passenger, I presume ?" "No, sir, she was the stewardess of the Laurel ; her name is Charlotte — at least so she was called — but I never heard her surname." "The stewardess!*' exclaimed the doctor; "dear me, I shouldn't have thought that. From her ap- pearance, I should take her to have been delicately nurtured, and her hands show that she has certainly been imused to hard work.'* **Well, I suppose, my man," interrupted the captain, " you will have no objection to enter your TflE CABIN BOY'S STOEY. 163 name on tlie ship's books, since you have boarded us in such a strange manner ; you will then draw your pay from this day. We shall probably be out a twelve-month. The ship is bound to the coast of Africa. What say you r*" Frank thought he might as well make a virtue of necessity, and therefore he readily agreed to have his name enrolled among the crew, and thus the late cabin boy of the slaver became a seaman on board a cruiser bound to aid in the suppression of the slave trade ; but as yet Frank, for certain reasons of his own, kept his own counsel with regard to his having escaped from the Albatross, on the coast of Brazil. With regard to the young female, there was no recourse but to take her to the coast, on board the man-of-war, and to send her back to the United States by the first ship that the G should meet with bound thither. She was very thankful for the kindness shown her by the officers of the ship ; but was very reserved — all that could be learnt from her was that her name was Charlotte Herbert, and noticing this reserve, the captain and officers forbore to question her. In the course of a few weeks the G made the African coast, and cruised along it from Loando as far north as Cape Coast Castle, without meeting with any slavers, and the captain, for the sake of varying the monotony of the cruise, resolved to visit the islands, commencing at Fernando Po, and pro- ceeding southward to St. Thomas and Annabon. CHAPTER XIII. The origin of the Mystery of the Rings. Can it be possible that two nnf^ have been manu- factured of such a very peculiar appearance ?" asked Charles Mordant of himself, as he quitted the Widow Miller at the depot of the Jersey City ferry, a mentioned in a preceding chapter. It may be, l(yi THE CABIN -boy's STORY. n.i V, it must bo the case. I am a fool to trouble my- self about the matter.'* To enable the reader to understand wherefore Charles Mordant had shown such a degree of anxiety and apparent distrust and uneasiness when he observed the ring alluded to on Mrs. Miller's finger, we must partially retrace our history. The reader is aware that Charles Mordant was, at the period of his first introduction, studying for the legal pro- fession in Boston ; but like those of a great many young men of large expectations in the present day, and especially in the United States, his studies were merely nominal. For form's sake he attended chambers occasionally, but the chief portion of his time was spent in the pursuit of pleasure, and we are sorry to say that the pleasures in which Charles Mordant took delight were not of the most orthodox character. To tell the truth he was a frequenter of fashionable saloons, gambling houses, and other resorts, where dissipation and immorality were the leading characteristics. Some six months prior to the date of the opening of our story he had been on a visit to Philadelphia, and while there by some means or other, he had formed an intimacy with a young lady whose parents belonged to the Society of Friends, and whose name was Jeannette Dixon. On the part of the young man the intimacy had been commenced merely for the purpose of creating some fresh excitement to refresh his jaded spirits. Jeannette Dixon was a very pretty and interesting girl, and young Mordant had met her by chance at the house of a friend where she had been on a visit. He had paid the modest, unassuming girl marked attention; and as he was a good-looking fellow enough — known to be the prospective heir of great wealth, and supposed to be of good moral character — and more particularly as the young woman had heretofore led a very secluded life, and was now just of that age when the female heart is most sua- THE CABIN boy's STOHY. 165 ceptible to the attractions of the opposite sex, she had been much flattered by the preference shown towards her by young: Mordant. She was shy and reserved at first, but her very reserve, the fact that she kept her thoughts to herself, rendered her more readily thoug-h secretly, susceptible to the young man's assiduities and protestations of attachment. The result was, that what in the first instance was merely a pleasurable, flattering sensation, causing her heart to flutter, and her cheek to blush, at the thought of being the object of the young man's especial notice and favor, rapidly ripened into a feel- ing of love. Charles Mordant likewise began to discover that he felt very difi'erent sensations with regard to the fair Quakeress, to those he had previously experienced when he had thought fit to patronize, as he termed it, any young lady whom he could get to listen to his flatteries. He began to feel that he could love Jeannette Dixon, at least as much as he was capable of loving any one but himself, and that if she were of a more wealthy family, that he could be content to make her his wife; but then her parents, though highly respectable, were com- paratively poor, and the idea of marriage was not to be thought of in earnest — though he did not hesitate to speak of it to Jeannette, who otherwise would have steeled her heart to all his protestations of love — or, at least, would have striven to do so, and if she could not, would have resisted the temptations that beset her. Such a rigid watch is kept over their children by the Quakers, that it was impossible that this attach- ment on the part of their daughter and young Mor- dant could long be kept a secret from Jeannette's parents, and she was warned by her father and mo- ther both of the diff^erence in the worldly position of her lover and herself, and also told that they would not give their consent to their daughter's marriage with, any one but a member of their own peculiar 166 THE CABIN boy's STOPwT. Beet. Jeannette told Charles of this determination on the part of her parents, but he merely laughed at the prejudices of the old folks, as he called them, and thereby drew upon himself a severe rebuke from his fair and confiding friend. He, however, soon soothed her indignation ; told her he would marry her at last, even if he had to wait for years — and left her more than ever assured of his love. Thus matters continued for several weeks. Mean- while Mr. Dixon had written to Mr. Mordant, stating in plain terms the connection that existed between the young man and his daughter, and his own objections to the marriage as well on the score of difference of religious persuasion as of worldly position. He received a letter from Mr. Mordant thanking him for the information — agreeing per- fectly with his views — stating that he had other in- tentions with regard to his son, and that he never would give his consent to his union with Miss Dixon. The old merchant also wrote to his son, expressing the same sentiments, and threatening him with disinheritance if he refused to act in ac- cordance with his wishes. Mr. Dixon showed the letter to his daughter, and endeavored to reason her out of her misplaced attachment ; but, as may well be imagined, in vain. She felt confident that Charles loved her; had he not told her so, and added that he would sooner have her for his wife, and earn his own living by the sweat of his brow, than wed another and revel in countless riches, and after that c^uld she doubt him ? she asked herself, and her heart responded — no. Charles responded to his father's letter, saying that it was merely a harmless flirtation that he was indulging in; that he had no thoughts of anything serious, and that the girl and her parents must be Very simple to imagine such a thing ; to which Mr. Mordant replied that he was glad to hear it was so, at the same time jokingly reminding his son that THE CABIN boy's STORY. 167 the moth that plays too near the candle can scarcely avoid beingp singed at last. Notwithstanding every precaution on the part of her parents, Charles and Jeannette managed to contrive stolen interviews, and at last he told her in reply to her questioning, that his father would not consent to their marriage; that he was going to Boston to resume his studies, and urged her consent to a private wedding. The poor girl was strongly attached to him ; she dreaded his leaving her, and she had already been taunted by her female friends with regard to her infatuation, as they were pleased to term it, to such a degree that her life had been rendered wretched. In an evil moment she con- sented. She believed that she was privately mar- ried by a minister of the Baptist church, when in fact only a mock ceremony was performed by a graceless companion and tool of the young and abandoned spendthrift, and J eannette Dixon quitted her happy home and followed her supposed husband to Boston. Mr. Dixon wrote again to Mr. Mordant, when he discovered the flight of his daughter, and the merchant wrote and demanded an explanation of his son. The young man denied any knowledge of the girl, and even said that he believed her to be a worthless creature, whom it were folly for him to trouble himself about farther, and thus the poor distressed parents were left quite unable to discover what had become of their child. Jeannette wished to write to her parents ; but she was forbidden by Charles, who said he would see his mother in a short time and by her means obtain his father's forgive- ness ; but, were the marriage made known now, his father would in his anger, act up to his threats; and fearful of injuring her supposed husband's future prospects, poor Jeannette was led reluctantly to maintain secrecy. For some time Charles, who was really much attached to the young woman, treated her with ih? 168 THE CAEIN bote's STOUT. # utmost kindness and attention, and lavished innu- merable presents upon her. One day he chanced to step into a jeweller's shop, with the intention of making some purchases, when his notice was at- tracted towards a ring of peculiar form and great value and beautj-. He purchased it and gave it to Jeannette; but the circlet being too large for her finger, he brought it back the next day to have it altered and to have the letter J" engraved inside. At this time. Captain Seymour, who had just re- turned from a successful voyage, had gone on a short visit to Boston, and as the reader is aware, he had been fascinated in New York by the charms of Mrs. Miller's pretty and interesting daughter. He was desirous of making her a present of some jewelry, and by chance, he wandered into the same store that had in the morning been visited by Charles Mordant. He made such purchases as he thought requisite, and was on the point of leaving the store when he said : " By-the-bye, I should like to look at some finger- rings — I want to buy one for a lady." The jeweller handed him a tray stored with the articles in question. "I don't like any of these," said he, " they are all too common; can't you make me something out of the way — entirely new ?" ^ A sudden thought struck the jeweller. He would make him a ring similar to that which had been purchased by Charles Mordant, It was a singular pattern, and it was unlikely that there were many like it to be found. He described it to his customer, who gave him an order to make it as soon as possible. By-the-bye," said Seymour, "engrave the letter « J" on it." The jeweller looked surprised, but promised to fulfil the order as soon as possible. He turned to his partner, however, as soon as -Seymour had left the store, and said : ** It is a strange coincidence. You recollect about THE CABIN ROY*S STORY. 169 two years ago, we made a ring for a lady who came to the store in deep mourning accompanied by a gentleman — 1 think they were English, but I forget their names — it was an emerald heart encircled with diamonds, and the letter ' J ' was engraved upon it. I made another ring set with similar stones, and yesterday a gentleman purchased it, and to-day he called for the purpose of having it altered, and the letter * J ' engraved upon it. That gentleman who has just gone out, wanted a ring of some novel and strange pattern, and I described the emerald and pearl rings to him. He has ordered one, and strange enough, has requested it to be similarly en- graved."" " It is strange," replied the person addressed. " I shall make two while I am about it," said the first speaker ; " since I had such luck in selling the three, I may yet sell another— as a rare specimen — you know — they seem to take people's fancy, as rarities, but if the pattern were to become common, they would become a drug in the market." The jeweller, unknown to either Charles Mordant or Seymour, did make two, and thus Charles and the Captain were both provided, leaving one still in the manufacturer's possession. William Martin, who the reader will recollect we mentioned heretofore as studying law with a gentle- man in Augusta (Me.), had about this time come on to Boston to complete his studies. The young man was at this time paying his addresses to a young lady in Augusta, and it naturally enough occurred to him to send her a souvenir of his love and con- stancy. A few weeks after Captain Seymour had purchased his ring, William Martin called at the jeweller's store in question, and asked to look at some rings and other articles of jewelry, and he waa «hown the/ac simile of the rings already spoken of " That will please Jessica," he thought to him- self. " It will be quite a curiosity down in Maine, ' 170 THE CABIN BOT'S 8T0*IY. and lie immediately purchased it of the jeweller. " By-the-bye," said he, as he was pulling out his purse to pay for the trinket, " I wish you would get the letter * J* engraved upon it for me." The jeweller was astonished. He thought at first that he must be dreaming, the letter " J" began to assume a magical appearance in his eyes; but he promised to get the letter engraved. " Very strange," he muttered to himself, as the young man left the store; very strange, indeed. I don't half like it, some how or other. I won't make any more of those rings.*' It was a similar ring to that which Mrs. Miller wore, that Charles Mordant had given to Jeannette Dixon ; and Captain Seymour had given the ring he had purchased to Jane Miller. In the following chapter the reader will perceive that Charles Mordant had ample reason to feel the uneasiness he could scarcely dissemble, when ho saw the emerald ring on the finger of the widow. CHAPTER XIV. Showing how Mr. Mordant obtained possession oi the "Widow's Property. Between the City Hall and Wall street, the great financial centre of the City of New York— although of late years, the Commercial Metropolis of the "Western world has stretched itself far, far along to- wards the confines of the Island of Manhattan — and between Broadway, the great centre thorough- fare of this ever- crowded, ever- increasing emporium of commerce, and William Street — leading towards the entrance of the sea, commonly known by the misnomer of the East River — is a dingy neighbor- hood, amidst a labyrinth of dingy narrow streets ; the side walks narrow enough at the best, eternally choked up with goods, carted down for the purpose of storage, or set out ready for e?.portation to all THE CABIN BOY'S STORY. 171 parts of this great Union — aye, and to all parts of the ^orld beyond; or else, less pardonably lumbered with empty packing cases, which the passer-by im- agines, perchance, to be full, and which, regardless of the by-laws of the city, and regardless of the rights of the foot passenger, are daily paraded by the owners of the rubbish, to be taken in by their clerks at night merely for the gratification of a ridiculous vanity — and to make the world of pas- sengers believe they are doing an immense deal more business than really falls to their share. In this same neighborhood are numerous rattle trap buildings — the exterior of which, perhaps may be substantial enough, though they seldom have any other outward recommendation, while the in- teriors are in every imaginable process of dilapida- tion ; stairs worn into holes by continual treading ; plaster fallen away ; dirty passages— with ruinous banisters deluding the unwary visitor with a promise of support, which he would be luckless indeed to trust to, out of which rooms epen displaying floors covered with the introdden dust of many years ; and windows which, since the day the glazier completed his work, have never known the luxury of clean water ; windows from which the dim light that is enabled to find its way into those dark and narrow streets, is half excluded by the neglect of the occu- pants of the rooms, and in the corners of which spiders innumerable have taken up their abode, feel- ing secure, in consequence of long immunity from the fatal broom of the housewife — the furniture is scant and dreary as can well be— bare deal stands, furnished with compartments filled with little pieces of lead-colored metal, before each of which stands a coatless individual who is busily occupied in remov- ing the pieces of metal from the stands, and placing them one by one in regular order in a curiously formed metal case he holds in his left hand. A strange click, click, click, eis the several pieces of 172 rilE CABIN BOY*S STORY. metal are fixed in the case or " stick," resounds through the room — the floor of which is littered with pieces of dirty manuscript and long slips of printed paper ; yet, from these dingy places, daily, weekly, and at all times, printed by night, and printed by day, week day and Sabbath day alike, as may be known by the incessant rumbling of the mighty steam engines and printing presses buried in subterranean caverns beneath the streets, like so many volcanoes in a state of perpetual proximity to • eruption, issue the thousands and tens of thousands of newspapers, magazines, periodicals, circulars, and books of all descriptions, which well excuse the boasts of Americans that the people of this country are the greatest readers, and the best patrons of the gray goose quill, in the wide world. It is from the dingy, muricy abodes that we have described, that are constantly being sent forth the clean, clear, well-folded pages of printed matter, which form the daily intellectual banquet of hun- dreds of thousands of human beings — who, as they read the handsomely printed, well bound volume, little dream of the dreary passage through which its pages have progressed, since the thoughts ex- pressed by the printed letters came from the brain of the author, and were jotted down, as they strug- gled into life, on the blotted manuscript. And in this neighborhood, likewise, are numerous oflSces, scarcely if at all more comfortable than those tenant- ed by the printers, occupied by a class of men whom It has long been a standing joke to designate as "necessary evils" in a civilized community — the class of lawyers ; necessary for what ? because the incessant competition in business, and the continual desire amongst civilized men to outstrip their neighbors in the race for wealth, and fame, and power, leads them to fraud and chicanery — foreign to human nature in its uncultivated and less corrupt- ed condition, and compels the interv^fttio^ of the tttE CABIIT BOY'S STORf. 173 man of law to settle those disputes which in rnder times were settled by a resort to physical strife. These men herd thick as bees in this vicinity ; lawyers of every calibre ; men versed in legal lore ; of extensive knowledge, and of high attainments — men of such established integrity, and such acknow- ledged talent, that the finger of envy and malevo- lence may point at them in vain — men whom to know is to honour and esteem. And here those men herd likewise, who habitually prostitute the little legal knowledge they possess — and who use the means of sowing discord and hatching mischief which their profession gives to them, for the vilest purposes, if a pecuniary reward is held out to them as an inducement to the practice of villany, such as they cannot hope to reap in an honest manner. It was towards this neighborhood that, as we men- tioned in a former chapter, Charles Mordant had directed his steps on the occasion of his visit to the lawyer, whom we have chosen— having a whole- some fear of the law of libel before our eyes, and knowing that the nearer the truth, the greater is libel held to be — to designate by the name of Harvey. The reader will recall to his recollections the cir- cumstances of the younger Mordant's previous visit, for the purpose of raising money on the security of his future expectations, to meet the demands upon his purse, created by his reckless extravagance. Mr. Harvey had discovered, by a close examina- tion into some private documents belonging to the elder Mordant, which Charles had brought him, that there was something wrong with regard to a certain property in New J ersey, held by the mer- chant, which had formerly belonged to Mr. Miller. True, the property had been purchased from a Dutchman, although at a mere nominal price, quite in a regular and business-like manner ; but the law- yer, do all he could, was unable to discover by what right the Dutchman had sold it, or by virtue of TfiE CABIN boy's STORY. what original Dutcli claim it had passed from thb possession of Mr. Miller to that of Mr. Peyster, who farmed a small property of his own, somewhere in its neighborhood, and who had emigrated from Amsterdam some fifty years before, when a mere child. Mr, Harvey had made a good deal of money out of Mr. Mordant in a fair and legitimate way, as legal matters go, and now he did not see any just cause or impediment to his making a little more, in the way of "black mail," as it is called by vulgar, little-minded individuals, who cannot understand the delicate operations of speculators upon other people's finances — especially if he could prove the merchant guilty of underhanded and fraudulent dealings with a simple and unprotected widow wo- man, and that widow woman his own near relative, and could frighten him by threats of exposure; therefore, when the young spendthrift, Charles, called, he had put off until the following Monday the further consideration of the young man's busi- ness, and had determined, meanwhile, to hunt up the said Dutch farmer, Mr. Peyster. This was no very difficult matter, for the plodding old Dutchman did not reside more than thirty miles /rom New York, in the neighboring State of New J ersey ; and Mr. Harvey took the railroad cars to a certain village where was located the nearest depot to the farm, and then, hiring a waggon from the landlord of the village hotel, he set ofif by himself towards the residence of the farmer, whom he found guiding the plough with his own, hands across the furrows of one of his own fields. " Good morning, sir ; good morning I" said Mr. Harvey, who had dismounted from the vehicle, and making the reins fast, had proceeded across the field to where the Dutchman and his son where employed. Have I the pleasure of seeing Mr. Peyster ?" TS1? CABIN" BOY*S STORY. 175 "Mine name is Peyster," said the Dutchman, surlily, and without discontinuing his labor; "but I don't know what for it should be any pleasure to you to know dat — ^w-hit, g'lang!" shouting to the horses that were yoked to the plow, and cracking his whip, leaving the lawyer in some doubt whether the expression applied to himself or to the horses. " But, my good sir, if I should happen to have bu- siness with you that would put money in your pocket and mine, then, perhaps, it would be a mutual plea- sure for us to hold conversation together." Mr. Harvey, after having induced the Dutchman to leave his work and enter the house, told him he had called respecting a little property that adjoined his farm, which formerly belonged to the late Mr, Mil- ler, and which had come into the possession of Mr. Mordant, as he suspected in a surreptitious manner; and that he (Peyster,) was a principal actor in the affair. After much equivocation, Mr. Harvey in- duced the Dutchman to enlighten him as to the manner in which the transaction was accomplished. Peyster hemmed and coughed to clear his throat, and sat for some moments in a brown study— seem- ingly endeavoring to recall the subject to has memo- ry. At length he exclaimed :— " I must take a smoke mit my pipe— mine Got! I can tink of noting till I have smoke mit my pipe." " Smoke, by all means, my friend," said the law- yer, who, although annoyed at the farmer's dilatori- ness and stupidity, knew he would gain nothing by crossing his humor. The pipe was produced, filled and lighted, and patiently puffed for a full quarter of an hour before the ideas of the Dutchman began to brighten up. At last he laid it aside and commenced. "It might be ten years ago— and p'raps more longer as dat — Mr. Mordant comes to me von day yen I was plowing on my iaxxHf just aa you came to-day^ and he 8a,y8 1--* 176 tHE CA^IN boy's /^TOUY. " ' Goot morning, Mynheer Peyster' — and I said, ' goot morning Mr. Mordant' — because I knowd him a goot long time before — and he said * I am glad to hear of your good fortune, Mynheer Peyster — that is a nice little property you have got.' " And I said, ' Vere is my property, Mr. Mordant ? You are joking mit me.* 'Cause den I only rented the little farm I owns now. *' * Vatl' he cried; *you doesn't know dat your great grandfader, who came out to this country by order of the States General of the Nederlands, many years before you was born, owned all dis nice property hereby, and you are rightful heir to it I' " * No,' I tells him — and he says — * tink now Mynheer Peyster, tink whether you never heard your fader, ven you vas a little boy in Amsterdam, speaking of his property in America,' and he put a piece of money in my hand and says, * let's come into de house. Mynheer Peyster, and talk matters over,' jist as you said jist now : and I walks into de house, as I did mit you, and takes my pipe and lights him, and begins to smoke and to tink," And thus reminded of his favorite indulgence, the Dutchman again took up his pipe and commenced to smoke, and Mr. Harvey was compelled to wait until he again laid the pipe aside. ** * At last,' he continued, I turned to Mr. Mordant and looked him in de face and said — * I have been tinking over de matter.* " * And at what conclusion have you arrived ?* he asked, putting anoder piece of money into my hand, and I looked at de coin and said, Yah — I tink I dc recollect someting of de kind.* *' And he put his hand in his pocket and took out his purse, and said : " * Tink again my vriend — be sure of it,' and I said, looking at de purse, " * Dunner and blitzen ! I am sure of it now.* " * And it was in New Jersey,* said he, ' on a THE CABIN boy's STOBT. 177 portion of the State that was formerly subject to Holland — in fact it was in dis neighborhood/ and he pulled open de strings of his purse. * lah r I said, * I recollect now it vas here.' ** * You are sure 7' he said, laying a bill on de table. * Quite sure,' said I, and I took up de bill and put it in mine pocket mid de rest ob de money. ** And Mr. Mordant said, * vat a shame it was dat de poor Dutchmen should be cheated out of dere rights — and I said : " * Tall !* and Mr. Mordant went on. " * Suppose now I should happen to find dis old claim of yours — vould you sell me de estate at a reasonable price ?* " * Yah^* said I, and he replied, * good morning, Mynheer Peyster,' and vent avay, and I took up mine pipe and sat and smoked and counted the monies, and tought I vas in luck. " A week afterwards he came again, and brought mit him an old lawyer — who had a dirty piece of parchment in his pocket, and dey said dat vas my claim, and asked vould I sell it —and I said * Ja/i, I vould,* and dey offers me a tousand dollars for it, and I takes it, and den I goes and buys dis farm mit de money, and gets me a vife, dat is all I knows." " Hem I" exclaimed Mr, Harvey — very well and and clearly told, my friend. Isow, if I give you twenty dollars, will you relate this to-morow in the presence of a witness — whom I shall bring here ? Mind, the relation must be made voluntarily on your part — say one word of the money, or of any previous visit from me and you are a lost man." '* I will take de monies," answered the farmer. Very well, now, can you write r*" "No, but mine vrow can." " Then let her write a letter which I will dictate." " As you please," said the farmer — and he called hia wife into the room. ** Your husband, Mrs. Peyster," said Mr. Harvey, 383 M 178 THE CABIN BOT*S STORY. "wishes you to write a letter to a gentleman w New York, which I will put in the post-office for him as I go through the village." " I shall be happy to write it, sir," said the female, who was a smart, tidy American woman, " Then please to write as I dictate." Holy Farm New Jersey. •* Dear Sir, — Can you call at our farm at your earliest convenience, and bring a gentleman with you who will serve as a legal witness ? My hus- band has something to communicate to you, as Mr. Mordant's legal adviser, of the utmost importance to him, and to that gentleman also. On no account, however, mention this to Mr. Mordant until you have called upon my husband or your visit will be useless. Respectfully, Catherine Peyster, .# for my husband, Peter Peyster." ** 1 hope, sir, there is nothing in this letter calcu- lated to injure my husband," said the farmer's wife, when she liad finished writing, looking anxiously at Mr. Harvey. " Nothing whatever, I assure you; on the con- trary, it will result to his benefit. Now," he added, ** please to direct the letter to " John Harvey, Esq., Solicitor, &c., &c.. No — , N street, New York." The letter was directed and sealed, and dropped into the post-office at the next village, and Mr. Harvey wished the farmer and his wife "good- day," and returned to New York. On the following day he again visited Peyster, taking with him his clerk, and the depositions of the farmer were duly taken down, and the paper signed by both the parties. Thus armed, Mr. Harvey returned home, and on the same evening visited Mr. Mordant. That gen- tleman was seated with his family in the parlor ; THE CABIN boy's STORY. 179 but upon hearing' that Mr. Harvey wished to see him, he directed lights to be placed in his study, and proceeded thither to meet him. "Good evening, Mr. Harvey/* said he, "pray be seated. To what am I indebted for the pleasure of such a rarity as a visit from you ?' * "To a matter involving rather serious conse- quences, my dear sir," said Mr. Harvey, taking from his pocket the document containing the de- positions of the farmer. " Bless me! what's that matter?" exclaimed Mr. Mordant. "Nothing having reference to that scapegrace son of mine, Charles, I hope ; that boy, Mr. Harvey, is a source of great uneasiness to me — not that I believe there is anything really evil in his disposition, but he is wild extravagant and care- less. " Set your mind at ease on this subject, Mr. Mordant ; this matter does not relate to the young gentleman, but to yourself more particularly. I was sent for, a day or two since, by a man named Peyster, a Dutch farmer 1 believe, who having got some strange whim in his head, fancied that his conscience troubled him on account of the disposal of some property he came into in New Jersey years ago, which was supposed, as far as I can learn, to have belonged to a clergyman named Miller — a re- lative of yours, Mr. Mordant, but upon which pro- perty this Peyster had an old Dutch claim. Here is the letter, you see. Please to read it " (handing the letter he himself had dictated, to Mr. Mordant.) The merchant read the letter, and returned it, merely saying — " Well, pray proceed, Mr. Harvey. What then ?" " Thinking that, perhaps, some interests of yours were involved, I visited the man according to his request, and found that he was a rude, ignorant Dutch farmer, but very shrewd and intelligent, Mr. Mordant. I may say, sir, verjf shrewd.*' 180 THE CABIN boy's STOPvY^ And the lawyer refreshed himself with a pinch of snuff, handing the box afterwards to Mr. Mordant. "No, I thank you," said the latter, " I never in- dulge in taking snuff ; but what was the nature of the subject upon which he wished to speak with you?" ** It related to the property in New Jersey, as I have said," replied Mr. Harvey. "Here are the depositions he made. I will read them," and the lawyer read them through steadily and with em- pasis. " You see, my dear sir," he continued, when he had concluded the reading, " that this document will place you in a very awkward position— a very disagreeable position, indeed, if the man should choose to be obstinate." " But, Mr. Harvey, who will take heed of the ravings of a man like Peyster ? he is laboring under some delusion. I have the deed in my possession, and will show it you. It is proof indisputable of the claim — which I purchased in good faith;" and the merchant rose from his seat, and proceeded to extract the deed from an iron safe in the study, Mr. Harvey was fully prepared for him ; ,he had not resolved upon his action in this matter without providing himself with every necessary means to go through with it. When Charles Mordant, amongst other things, had abstracted this deed from his father's safe in order fully to satisfy the lawyer of his future ability to reimburse any amount of money he could raise for him, Mr. Harvey had accident- ally held the yellow parchment up to the light, and discovering, by the merest accident, the private mark and date of the manufacturer of the parch- ment, found that it had been manufactured in London, upwards of a century after the conquest of New Netherlands by the British, in fact some time after the Declaration of the Independence of the United States of America ; and this he knew waa sufficient proof of its being a forgery, and that the THE CABIN boy's ST0E,Y. 181 appearance of age liad been effected by artificial means. This discovery it was which had let him into the secret of the fraudulent possession of the property of Mr. Mordant, and had determined him with regard to his future operations. He had carefully taken a copy of the deed; making a special note of the date on the parchment, in the margin, and had subsequently given the parchment an appearance of sufficient age, and t hen, when Charles had visited him a second time, he had directed him to replace the will and deed, and5^ the other documents. It was this copy he had shown to Mr. Peyster. No sooner was the deed shown him, triumphantly, by the merchant, than his quick eye glanced at the mark, which was only observable by a keen scrutiny when the parchment was held in a particu- lar light. " Humph r* exclaimed the sharp-witted man of law. "Who was the attorney who effected the transfer of this deed, Mr. Mordant ? It was before I was honored with your patronage ?'* ** His name was Johnston. He died suddenly about a year afterwards. He was a keen fellow; one not likely to allow himself to be taken in." " Excuse me, Mr. Mordant, I mean no offence, sir, indeed, I should be sorry to suppose for a mo- ment, that you were privy to the roguery which is apparent in this affair ; but, I should say that this Mr. Johnston was a keen fellow. He made a copy of the deed, which, by some means or other, has got into Peyster's hands, and the perusal of which has led to the qualms of conscience, which induced him to send for me. On that copy, in the margin, it is stated that the manufacturer's mark is dated many, many years subsequently to the protested grant of the land. Now, I see that the original deed, which professes to be a grant of a certain quantity of land to Pierre de Peyster — the ancestor, I presume, of 182 THE CABIN IJOl's STOILY. the farmer Peyster of whom you purchased the estate — is dated in the year 1654, while the parch- ment on which it was written, was manufactured in the year 1789. A most conclusive proof Mr. Mordant, of the worthlessness of the deed." Mr. Mordant turned pale. He, for the moment, forgot himself; and said — *' But this man Peyster is an ignorant fellow. He cannot read. How could he have made the dis- covery ?" The astute lawyer took no heed of the implied admission of his knowledge of the forgery on tho part of the merchant ; but he replied — " You forget, my dear sir, that his wife can read : recollect it was she who wrote the letter in her husband's name. Oh I these women are always up to some mischief." *' 1 must have been deceived by Johnston; ho must have been a consummate scoundrel," said Mordant; but, really, this is a most unpleasant business. Excuse me, Harvey, but you must bo aware in what an awkward position I should be jjlaced should the affair be bruited abroad. It is a matter of days gone by — " And all the more unpleasant, in consequence of the former proprietor being a relative of yours, I believe,*' said Mr. Harvey, calmly interrupting the merchant, while he helped himself to another pinch of snuff. People are so prone to scandal now-a- days, that your enemies, and every man in business —especially every man of wealth like you, my dear sir, has enemies. Your enemies, I say, would seize upon the facts, as a capital pretext to destroy the excellent reputation for integrity that you enjoy.** ** What can be done under the circumstances?" inquired Mr. Mordant, in an agitated manner. " The matter as 1 have observed, is an affair of days gone by. No one could be injured if it were hushed up," THE CABIN boy's STORY. ISH You forget, my dear sir, tliat the deposition.^ were taken down by me in the presence of a witness.*' " True ; but, perhaps, for a consideration that witness might be silenced.** " But again'* interrupted the lawyer, " if I mistake not, Mrs. Miller, the relict of the Heverend Eben- ezer Miller, and the rightful owner of the estate, is still living, and has a son still living, and sheathe widow — is, I believe, in a condition of comparative poverty. She would certainly obtain possession of the property, if she could bring forward a suit, and also to all proceeds, rents, &c., for the last ten years or more. Yes, she would most certainly,'* he added, in a thoughtful manner. " No doubt of it." " What, then, would you, as my legal adviser in this matter, and one in whom I place implicit con- fidence,*' said Mr. Mordant, in a conciliating tone of voice, seeing that he was at the lawyer's mercy, "What would you, my dear friend, advise me to do ?** " Acknowledge at once,'* said the lawyer, " thai- you were deceived by the false representations ot Mr. Johnston, and restore the property, rents, and accumulations to the widow." *' But are you aware, Mr. Harvey, that the rents of that estate, which, when I purchased it, were worth only 300 dollars per annum, now amount to 1,000, and have realised that sum for the last five years ? Why, my dear sir, I should feel the loss severely. All my available capital, you know, as well as I do, is employed." " There is one way by which the matter might be settled," replied Mr. Harvey, after having sat for some moments apparently buried in thought. " I am aware how seriously the loss of reputation would injure your credit; and I know also that when people are used to poverty, they are often really happier under the privations it entails, than they woxiid be if rolling in wealth. I have no doubt Mrs. Miller is contented as she is, and I should be 184 THE CABIN boy's STORY, really sorry to see you, one of my wealtliiest and most respectable — let me add, most respected clients brought into trouble. For myself, I care nothing-. It is my duty to do the best 1 can for those who em- ploy me to manage their affairs ; but this witness whom I took down with me, not suspecting for a moment, Mr. Mordant — I would wish you to under- stand that — that anything of so serious a nature was to be disclosed — this witness, I say, will require to be largely paid to maintain silence. But I think I could manage to seal his tongue ; yes, I think I could manage it." " By what means? Mention how, and you ^v^ll find me ready to meet your views," said Mr. Mor- dant, much excited. "It would be rather expensive," continued the lawyer; *' I could buy him over, and pack him off to Europe or to California, and the probability is he would never be heard of again." " And to effect this, how much would you require ?" " Why, it is difficult to say. Perhaps, for two or three thousand dollars, the thing might be done ; yes, I should say that I could manage it for three thousand dollars." ** Three thousand dollars !" exclaimed the mer- chant. " Three thousand dollars, cash," interrupted the lawyer. " It is a very large sum," continued Mr. Mordant, with a sigh; but I suppose, if you say so, I must consent to pay it. Really, this is a most troublesome affair — a very distressing affair." " It is, indeed, my dear sir," said the lawyer ; " but now, I presume, we may consider it as settled. You will draw me a check for the amount." And with a sad heart and an unsteady hand, the merchant drew the check and presented it to the lawyer, who rose to take his leave, saying, as he shook the merchant by the hand; on leaving the study— THE CA-RIN BOY*S STORY. 185 " I congratulate you, my dear sir, on the successful arrangement of this little difficulty, for it may now be considered as settled—yes, you may rest assured that it will be settled." And he descended the stairs, and a moment after- wards Mr. Mordant heard the slam of the street door, as the servant let the lawyer out. "A most consummate hypocrite — a finished scoundrel, that fellow," muttered the merchant, as he listened to the retreating footsteps of the lawyer. He has actually swindled me out of that money. Three thousand dollars! But I can't help it. He is too conversant with my affairs for me to treat him •with the contempt I otherwise would. Weil, it's of no use lamenting the loss of the money, I must just put up with it." So saying, Mr. Mordant descended to the parlor and joined the family circle, where he endeavored to banish from his mind the recollection of the un- pleasant transactions in which he had been engaged. **I have Mordant under my thumb udw, at all events," muttered Mr. Harvey, as, with the check in his pocket, he plodded his way homewards ; and, by Jove ! I'll keep him there — screw him down like a vice and he fairly spit out the words. " How- ever, I've made three thousand dollars by my day's work, and that will do for the present ; but I don't mean to destroy the copy of that deed, as I promised I would. Oh, no; I shall take good care of that." The lawyer reached the door of his own house and entered it. He retired to rest, and dreamed that night of his gains— and in fancy invested his ill- gotten spoil in various speculations. But were his dreams all happy ? Oh, no, no I A guilty con- science weighed like a nightmare upon his breast as he slumbered, and dreams of fortune could not re- •tore peace to the mind from which conscience had long since driven it forth. On the following morning, according to appoint- 18G THE CABIN boy's RTOllY. ment, Charles Mordant called upon Mr. Harvey at his oflSce in N street, for the purpose of ascer- taining whether the lawyer would advance him the money he required. To a certain extent Harvey was satisfied with the aspect matters wore. It was a part of his conceived project to entangle the young man in his toils, and the money was readily advanced, security having been given by Charles upon the property of his father, when it should come into his possession on the old gentleman's death. But Charles, amidst all his idle pleasures and gayeties, had his troubles — troubles which drove him deeper and deeper into the dissipations of drink and gambling, in order to strive to banish them. He had once or twice since the day on which he had conducted Mrs. Miller to the ferry boat, called upon that lady ; having been led to do so in order that he might more closely examine the ring which had attracted his attention when upon her finger. He wished to ascertain if the letter he had caused to be engraved upon the inside of the ring he had given to Jeannette Dixon was on that worn by Mrs. Miller, otherwise so similar ; and at length, imder pretence of simple curiosity he begged her to let him examine it. The widow took it from her finger and presented it to him. He eagerly glanced at the in- side, and there was the letter J plainly engraved. ** It is that letter," said the widow, observing him notice it, "which satisfies me that it really belonged to my poor unfortunate Jane. I should indeed have recognized it by the peculiar setting ; but that makes suspicion certainty , in spite of the anonymous letters I am still receiving, telling me that my poor dear child is still living." Charles Mordant became pallid as a corpse as he gazed upon the ring. The widow thought he was touched with pity for her daughter's fate ; and her heart softened towards the young man, who, com^ plaining of indisposition, rose to take his leave. THE CABIN boy's STORY, 187 " God bless you, Charles," said Mrs. Miller, .la she shook his hand. " I feel truly grateful to you for the sympathy you feel for my loss. The poor fellow cannot hide it from me,** she added, as he left the house. " Poor Charles, I wonder if he was attached to J ane — the thought never struck me be- fore, yet it might have been so. Young men now- a-days are not apt to exhibit such distress at the mere thought of even such a sad loss as that of mine.'* And Charles, as he returned to the city, thought to himself, " Yes, poor Jeannette has carried out her threats of self-destruction. She told me she could not bear to live any longer, if she discovered that I had deceived her by a false marriage. God knows who could have put that fancy into her head ; but she must have discovered the truth. Indeed, I thought as much that evening when we were walk- ing together on the Elysian Fields at Hoboken — and then that body found so shortly afterwards, just on the spot, too, and the ring upon the finger. This Captain Seymour might have given a ring that Mrs. Miller thinks resembles this to her daughter ; but it is quite improbable that he would have caused the letter J to be engraved inside, and in the same style, too. No, no. God forgive me! I have caused poor Jeannette to commit suicide, and her blood will call to heaven for vengeance upon my head.** And the young man, hardened as he was by vice and dissipation, shuddered as he thought of the dreadlul fate of his trusting and betrayed victim. CHAPTER XV. The ^fystcry of the Recluse of the Island of Annabon. The U. S. ship G came toancherin Clarence Bay, Fernando Po, after having spent several weeks in cruising along the neighboring coast, in the vain endeavor to discover any traces of slavers. Tho British brig of war Rapid was at anchor in the har- 188 THE CABIN boy's STORY. bor, as well as two or three merchant ships, the masters of which had come for the purpose of trading for fancy timber, which certainly in its live state should have been sufficiently abundant on the Island, since from one end to the other, and all round to the shores of the sea, it is overgrown with dense, almost impenetrable forest, as are most of the islands upon the African coast in tropical latitudes ; although again, as is the case in most of these islands, a lofty, grim, sombre-looking mountain rose in the interior, amidst the crags and precipices of which probably no human foot had ever trodden— since it is gene- rally supposed that the interior of the island, which is of considerable extent, is uninhabited. There was little to occupy the men on board the G , and therefore the crew enjoyed liberty on shore by turns dur ing their stay ; and the officers of the G interchanged visits with those of the Rapid, and accompanied each other in boating, fish- ing, and shooting excursions. Roads there were none, and but a small settlement on this portion of the coast — another, still smaller settlement, being formed upon the opposite shore ; both settlements being peopled with a few dozen whites, consisting of Englishmen and Spaniards — but no women — and the remainder of the inhabitants consisting of coolies and the rude natives of the island, who had been tempted to take up their abode near the Euro- pean intruders, in the hope of gain. The island was but scantilly populated with natives, who bore a ferocious character, having, it is said, once or twice risen and massacred the early Spanish settlers. Be this as it may, at this time they appeared to be the very reverse of ferocious, and were glad to be taken notice of by the sailors, and willingly brought off pine apples and other tropical fruits to the ships, in their rude, fragile canoes— which they exchanged for tobacco and half- worn articles of clothing ; and the impression generally prevailed that the ferocity THE CABI!T BOY'S STORY. 189 formerly imputed to their charge was occasioned by the cruelties of the Spaniards, who, it was said, hunted them down with bloodhounds, for the pur- pose of forcing them into slavery— a condition to which the simple natives had a most insuperable ob- jection. " I wonder," said Captain P , while stand- ing by the side of the English captain, watching the receding shore as the vessel sailed out of the bay, " I wonder if it would be of any use taking another cruise along the coast just now ; perhaps I might meet with better luck than I met with before ?'* " I rather think not," replied the English captain. "The Rapid, in company with the Firefly, has been cruising up and down from Loango to Cape Coast Castle, for some months, in search of two noted slavers — one the Albatross. I don't know her cap- tain's name, but report says he is a terrible fellow ; the other, the Dolphin, commanded by a renegade Frenchman named Junot, one of the most unmiti- gated scoundrels that ever breathed, and I much fear— indeed, I feel certain that both have escaped. We captured the Dolphin off the coast, crammed full of slaves— that is to say, the fellow entreated us to cease firing, lowered his flag, and allowed me to send a master's mate on board as prize master. The captain was, of course, put in irons, but my brig was short-handed — I have lost so many of my best men since I have been on this infernal coast — and the crew were wanted to work the prize. We thought there was no danger, especially as there were two of us, of her escape — but the Firefly set sail in chase of the other fellow, and suddenly two or three guns were fired right into my rigging, disabling me so much, and so wholly unexpected was the fire, too, that I was unable for the moment to reply to it, and the confounded brig shot ahead and was clear off in no time. I fired after her, for pursuit in my crippled condition was useless ; but the shot fell short. So, 100 THE CABTN" boy's STORY. as I have s,iit3, I lost one of the best prizes I ever captured. I would have given six nionibs pay to have crot hold of that devil incarnate. Junot." "It was too bad," said Captain P , "yet the fellow must be a clever scoundrel." ** Clever; but an arrant coward, so report says." ** And you never saw her again ?'* "Saw her again! Faith no. She is lying at anchor in Cuba, by this time, I presume. The worst part of the affair was, she went off %vith my master's mate and six of my best seamen on board ; poor fel- lows — I wonder what their fate has been?" " I should hardly think the feiiow would dare to harm them^" answered Captain P , *'most likely he would treat them well, and put them on shore somewhere." I hope sol but I have my misgivings,'' replied the Englishman. ♦* And the Firefly : did she succeed in the chase ?** ** Xo, she came back about three days afterwards —the Albatross that she wa« in chase of, sails like a witch ; and besides, they ' hove to' to pick up a poor negress whom I suppose the captain tossed over- board, on purpose to try if the humanity of the cap- tain of the Firefly was greater than his desire to secure a prize." And where is the Firefly now ?" She is gone to Sierra Leone to repair, and I sup- pose the rescued negress will be sent to Liberia." " Then you think it would be useless cruising just now along the coast. I must say it is tedious work — unless something is to be gained by it." " I should say it was. Let the fellows have a few months' respite, and then pounce down upon them unawares. I think that would be the best plan ; for my part, I have set my heart on capturing this devil Junot ; and, although I am entitled to return home, I exchanged with the officer that came to take my place, m ith the express intention of remain- ing a few months longer, in the hope of suooess." THE CABIN BOY'S STOET. 191 "In that case," said Captain P , "I shall give up my intention of visiting the islands. I shall go to St. Thomas and thence to Annabon." " Oh, by the bye, speaking of Annabon," said the English captain, " that puts me in mind of a little bit of romance connected with that island. My dear fellow, you can't do better than pay a visit to the White Lady of Annabon.'* " The White Lady of Annabon !" exclaimed Cap- tain P , " Who the d — 1 is she—a ghost or a fauy?" " Neither the one nor the other, though beautiful and almost ethereal enough to be the latter." "Who is she, then?" ** That nobody knows. She was only discovered by the captain of one of our cruisers a few weeks since, and I have not seen her yet. I describe her from his description, when I say discovered, I mean that until of late it was unknown that such a being was upon the island, although it appears, from Captain Hall's account, that she must have been residing there for years, and she has quite a splendid establishment." ** Have you no idea, then, who she is ?'* ** Not the least in the world : although some of these days I mean to pay her a visit, and endeavor to find her out. I can only surmise that she is the wife, or mistress, or daughter of some pirate or slave dealer, who has managed to keep his treasure there in seclusion for years. It may be so— it may be not. At any rate, it is quite in the style of the corsair and Medora, or Juan and Haidee, isn't it ? It's enough to pique a fellow's curiosity." " It has raised mine to the highest pitch, I can assure you," said Captain P , **and I shall cer- tainly follow your advice, and pay the lady a visit — but it isn't all a hoax of Captain Hall's, as you call him?" " Oh, no i I know Hall too well to fear that. Thai 192 THE CABIN boy's STORY. there is some enchanting embodiment of female loveliness on the island of Annabon, I have no d oubt. How she got there, or who she is, are different matters.*' The G- by this time had stretched far from the land, and shaking Captain P by the hand, and bidding farewell to the officers, the captain of the Rapid returned to the harbor, while the G— — ^ held on her course towards St. Thomas, In the course of a week she reached that island, but did not long remain there, as the captain, excited by /hat he had heard from Captain Trainer, of the English brig, was anxious to reach Annabon. He still had the young woman Charlotte Herbert on board, whom, the reader will recollect, he had picked up at sea, after the burning of the Laurel. It had been his intention to carry her to Sierra Leone, as the most desirable place to set her on shore. Now a new idea came into his head. If it really turned out that a young white female was residing on Annabon, he would leave the young girl tempo- rarily with her, for he was well aware a ship of war was no place for her to remain on board of. In due time the G reached Annabon, and, to the captain's surprise — although he now began to believe the story a hoax — no such person was known in the settlement, off which ships usually anchored ; but, by dint of earnest inquiry, he learnt from some negroes that it was said there was such a being resi- dent on the southern coast, in a secluded bay. Rendered more curious than ever, the captain resolved to cruise round the island as close to the shore as possible, and one morning his curiosity was gratified by the sight of a cottage different entirely from those usual on the coast, and quite concealed amongst the trees. The ship was brought to anchor in the offing — the bay was only navigable for small boats.: and Captain P resolved to send Charlotte Herbert THE CABIN E0-V*8 STOBY. 193 on shorfr, with one of his officers, as an avant cour- Tier. ** Here, Mr. Miller/* he said, after the sails had been furled and the boat lowered, and he had given notice to Charlotte Herbert of his intentions, *' you are a smart looking fellow, and, 1 should judge, ought to make a good squire of dames. Don your best uniform, sir, and accompany Miss Herbert ashore to this fairy lady's abode, and see that you bring back a good account of yourself, Givo the lady my compliments, and say that Captain P— -, ^f the U. S. ship G , will shortly do himself the honor of waiting upon her ladyship." The youth would not have desired any pleasanter irrand. He was ready and on board the boat in a few minutes. The boat put oflf from the ship's side, and five minutes* pull carried her into the creek, which was the only visible landing place. Th^ captain watched them froui tho ship with his spy- glass, and saw the young midshipman and Miss Herbert enter the glade, where the foliage of tree? and shrubs concealed them irom his view. CHAPTER XVI. A Surprise and somewhat of Mystery arising out of the Visit to the White Lady of Annabon, and still more Mysteiy arising out of the Interview. For years it had remained unsuspected that the lonely island of Annabon contained so lovely a specimen of budding womanhood as the fair Greek bride of the slaver captain, and but for the indiscre- tion of the young girl, or rather but for the anxious hope that had led her without reflection to signalize a British cruiser, thinking it was the Albatross, as many more years might have passed away without Captain Seymour*s secret having been discovered. One morning, about a month before the G had entered Clarence Bay, Fernando Po, the British cruiser Alacrity, Captain Hall, sighted the Island ol 383 THE CAEI^ boy's STOnY. Annabon, while pursuing her course from Ascen- sion to the mouth of the river Gaboon in Biaflfra. Curiosity probably tempted the captain to hug the land closely, and as he, in company with the lieu- tenant of the watch, was gazing upon the shore through his spyglass, and expatiating upon the beauties of the scenery, as creek after creek opened to their view as they rounded the various points, disclosing a panorama of the most enchanting and inviting landscape scenery, the attention of both gentlemen was attracted by the appearance of what seemed to be a white flag flying from a pole on the summit of a hillock, whence was a clear vista be- tween the forest trees, from the hill to the sea, forming either an artificial glade of wondrous beauty, or else being one of those natural clearances often found in these generally thickly wooded islands, to imitate which, would put to the test the skill ol the most artistic landscape gardener. *' Bless me!" said the captain, lowering his glass for a moment, and turning to the officer, " that is surely a white flag flying from the summit of yonder eminence; there, between those forest trees in the «'pening," pointing with his finger in the direction. "Do you see it ?" " I have observed it for some minutes ; I thought I saw it hoisted as soon as we rounded the point there," replied the lieutenant; " but as I could not conceive what it could be at first, I did not speak— I wished to be certain that it was really a flag. It is evidently some signal flying. What can it mean ?" " I'm sure I can't say; a white flag; let me see; a single white flag answers to none of our signals, except it be meant for a flag of truce, and that it can't be,*' replied the captain, smiling at the con- ceit. "It must have been hoisted purposely to arrest our attention, though, for, as you say, it was not flying when we opened upon the glade. It surely can't be any party from our cruisers who TtTE CABIN -ROtS PtOKY. 195 have by some means been left ashore here ? How- ever, we'll reply to it, Mr. Thompson. Harley, (calling to a midshipman,) tell the signal man to give you the white flag, and run it up ; and brace forward the yards a little, Mr. Thompson, (again addressing the lieutenant) we'll stand in a little closer ; the water is deep here close in to the land ; and send a boat ashore. Get the gig ready, and put six hands on board her, and you had better go ; no, stay, ril go myself, and solve the mystery." The vessel was soon as close in shore as it was thought safe to run her, when the captain ordered the main yard to be "laid aback," and descended into the gig, which had already been lowered, and hauled up alongside. In a few minutes she had entered the creek, which formed the landing place, and the captain sprung ashore. Zuleika, as soon as she had seen the answer to her signal flying from the gaff- end of the cruiser, had quitted the hillock without waiting to scrutinize more closely the appearance of the vessel. Had she done so, after it had drawn nearer the land, she would have perhaps known that it was not the Alba- tross, and a little reflection might have told her that unless some accident had occurred to render it necessary for her husband's vessel to return, it could not have been the Albatross that had so soon made her re-appearance; but, poor child, she was not used to draw deductions from reflection, and if she had been, she would probably, in her simplicity, guided by the sentiments of her own impulsive na- ture, have thought it nothing to be wondered at, if Captain Seymour had returned to bid her again farewell, before he left her for so long a time. Jane Miller had, however, remained behind for some minutes after Zuleika had descended the bill, and when the vessel's main yard had been thrown " aback," she saw, now the ship was close in shore, that there was some mistake. She hurried after 106 THE CABIlf BOY'S STOET. Zuleika, who was runnins: in such breathless haste towards the 1 and in p: place, that she had nearly arrived in siprht of the creek before Jane overtook her. ** There is some mistake ; that vessel is not the Albatross/' she said ; and at this moment, the boat having grounded, Captain Hall was seen approach- ing — ** and that is not Captain Seymour," she added, directing Zuleika*8 attention te the stranger. The poor girl suddenly stopped, trembling wifh disappointment and apprehension. The thought struck her that something dreadful must have hap- pened to her husband ; perhaps his vessel had been lost and he was drowned, and the stranger captain was coming to tell her — for had he not answered her signal? Jane, who was more conversant with sea usages, endeavored to reassure her, while she placed her arm around the almost fainting girl's waist. " The signal has been answered, as all such signals would be, even by strangers," said she. ** 1 have been told that there are several men-of-war on this coast. That vessel looks like one to me. I once saw one in New York. The captain has understood the signal as a request to send a boat ashore. He is coming to know what's wanted." " Santa Maria t* exclaimed Zuleika, her alarm now taking another shape ; " what shall we do ?" " Simply answer the questions he may put, ajjd inform him the flag was hoisted by mistake." " And say that I took his vessel to be that of my husband," interrupted Zuleika. " Nay," said Jane Miller, who, with more know- ledge of the world than her companion, feared that such an explanation would, perhaps, involve Sey- mour in difficulty at some future day. " It is very likely the captain does not speak Spanish, or at least, only indififerent, as I do. Say that the flag was hoisted by a mistake, and leave him to infer the rest; and Zuleika, be careful; do not betray my disguise." THE CABIN BOY*S STOEY. 197 While this conversation had heen going forward, Captain Hall had nearly reached the spot where they stood. He had discovered them almost as soon as they had perceived him. ** A petticoat, by all that's wonderful I" was his rough, sailor-like exclamation. " What can be the meaning of it ? I've had the good fortune to fall in with a romantic adventure, at all events. Quite a God- send to relieve the dull monotony of cruising on this infernal coast. Observing that the female, whoever she might be, was awaitins: his arrival, attended by a young man attired in European costume, he slackened his pace, and walked leisurely towards them— and, as he had subsequently told Captain Trainer, he was perfectly astonished at the loveliness of the island damsel. As J ane Miller had anticipated, he scarcely spoke or understood a word of Spanish; and having courteously addressed Zuleika in English, to which she, adopting Jane's advice, replied in Spanish, although she was at this time sufficiently acquainted with English to understand him. He turned to Jane, and addressed her in a similar manner. Jane replied also in Spanish— sufficiently good to deceive the captain— but observing the alarm of Zuleika, she endeavored to signify that a mistake had been made in hoisting the flag, and to beg their unex- pected visitor to accompany them to the cottage and take some refreshment. The captain was able to understand this, and no« thing loth to obey, he accompanied them to their residence, which he found to bo handsomely fur- nished, and supplied with not only the necessaries but the luxuries of life; and situated in the midst of a w^ell cultivated garden, while the books and pictures, and instruments of music scattered about the apartnjent, showed the intellectual tfiste of Xk^ fair occupant, 198 THE CABIN boy's STORY, The captain was perfectly bewildered, and almost fancied himself the victim of some fairy delusion. He, however, partook of the material refreshments offered him, and, after restinp^ for some time, courte- ously bade farewell to his lovely hostess, and as much bewildered as ever — quite unable to conceive who the beautiful being could be who resided thus in a condition of almost perfect seclusion in this lonely isle — he returned to the boat and ordered the men to pull him on board his vessel. He could only account for what he had witnessed in the manner that he had done to Captain Trainer — viz., by sup- posingr that the lady of the isle was the wife, or more likely the daughter of some pirate or slaver captain. Thus was effected the discovery of the white lady of Annabon. Both Zuleika and Jane Miller had seen the G as she approached the island, and had observed the boat put off from her side and pull towards the creek ; but, warned by the result of former inad- vertency, they had made no sign— hoisted no signal of recognition. They awaited at the cottage the re- sult of the visit, which they believed was intended for them, and which they also believed had been caused by the visit of the stranger captain a few weeks before. Younjr Miller and Charlotte Herbert found no one, therefore, to meet them when they stepped ashore from the boat ; but they perceived the path- way that had been trodden through the woods, here- abouts thinned of trees, but almost impenetrable, save by the pathway, in consequence of the prickly cactuses— the weeds of this country — the cherished exotics of northern climes— which spread themselves in every direction. Following the path, they at length arrived in sight of the little clearing, the plantation, and the cottage. Some negroes ap- proached them, and asked what the strangers want- ed; but they could not understand them; they pointed to the cottage and pursued their way. THE CABIN BOY'S STOBT. 199 Observing them approach the cottage, and seeing that one of the strange visitors was a female— a strange visitor, indeed, to tho solitudes of Annabon — Zuleika and Jane Miller came forth from tho cottage to meet them ; but the latter, to her mingled surprise, joy, and consternation, recognized in the young officer her brother. Her first impulse was to rush into his arms — her next, to fly, and hide herself irom his gaze ; but then she thought, ** Since I have been able to deceive Captain Seymour, and even Zuleika, as regards my sex, it is hardly likely h$ will recognize me. My attire, my close-cropped hair, my bronzed complexion, will deceive him likewise." She hoped they would, and, yet strange contrariety, she felt her heart swell and throb almojit to bursting at tlie thought that her brother— her only brother — should meet her, here, so far dis« tant from those she loved at borne, an outcast from her friends by her own actions, a victim of her own mad infatuation— and she turned aside her head to conceal the tears that, in spite of herself, gushed to her eyes. Oh, had I but met him alone," she murmured, " I would have confided ail to him." But she had little need to turn her head away, and hide her gushing tears. The young man had iiardly noticed her. He had seen ono whom he be - lieved to be a youth of his own age accompany the lady he had been sent to visit, and then his whole attention had been absorbed in the contemplation of the lady's surpassing loveliness. The young midshipman knew only a very few phrases of Spanish, which he had picked up at school, and he was using these very much at ran- doQi, in the endeavor to make himself agreeable to the unknown lady. He appeared quite to have for- gotten that he had the duty to perform of introducing Charlotte Herbert ; and the young woman, observing fhe absorption of her escort, s;.'iiiled to hprsoll^ and 200 THE CABIN boy's STOKY, advanced to tho spot where Jane Miller was standing. Perhaps the youth and good looks of the supposed boy iutcrested her; she addressed to Jane a few words in Spanish, with which language she had, during her residence in New Orleans, become slightly acquainted, and extended her hand. Jane took the prutl'ered hand, and smiled faintly, at the same time replying in Spanish ; but suddenly she snatched her hand away, as though it had been stung by a scorpion — a conxnilsive shudder passed through her frame, and her heart seemed to rise in her throat and choke her utterance. Her palm had come in contact with the ring Miss Herbert wore that day on the third finger of tho right hand, and she had glanced towards it. It was the counterpart of the ring she had been presented with by Seymour. Oh God I" she thought, " is this another victim to his wiles—am 1 not alone in my wretchedness ?" and then she looked towards the spot where the young midshipman and Zuleika were still engaged in bro- ken attempts at conversation. ** Alas 1" she mur- mured, "poor, poor deceived Zuleika 1" Charlotte Herbert knew not what to think of the strange action of the supposed boy. She imagined he was unwell ; and with a look of commiseration she again addressed him ; but Jane had turned her back, and walking towards an arbor, near by, she took from her bosom a ring tied to a piece of black silk ribbon. ** I could not have lost it," she mut- tered ; " no : and if I had, how could she have found it ? it is too true ; it must be as I surmise. Here is my ring; I seldom look at it now. Hence- forward it is valueless, indeed. Seymour must have given a similar ring to that young woman ; but this is folly on my part; poor thing, she too, as well as I, is to be pitied. Strange, too, that she should have come hither" and recovering in some degree her composure, she returned to Miss Herbert, made some trilling excuse of sudden indisposition, and h^r THE CABIN boy's STORY. 201 resolution not to be recognized by her brother, re- turning with renewed strength, she walked slowly towards tho cottage, leaving Zuieika and her visitors together. The young midshipman endeavored to make it understood that his captain would shortly pay the^ lady of the isle a visit, and then leaving Miss Her- , bert on shore with Zuieika, he went back to the boat and returned on board the vessel. •* Come on board, sir," said the youngster, as after ascending the side of the G , he advanced to the captain, touching his cap M'ith his forefinger. ** So I perceive, Mr. Miller," said the captain, well, sir, and what report have you to make ? Where is Miss Herbert ?" ** I left her behind, as you desired me to do, sir, if I was fortunate enough to meet with the young lady." " And what sort of a creature is this divinity of the island — this White Lady of Annabon, as Trainer quaintly called her. What is she like ?" **The most lovely creature 1 ever saw — ever imagined," said the youth. "If Powers' Greek Slave could step from her pedestal imbued with life, she would be nothing to compare with her. No, nor yet the Medicean Venus either, let alone the wax-work beauty in Bamum's Museum." " A sad descent . from your heroics, that lame termination of your comparison, Mr. Miller, A step from the sublime to the ridiculous with a vengeance. However, you have raised my curiosity, and I shall fulfil my intention of paying this extraordinary beauty a visit. I was thinking of taking you on shore again; but I am afraid you will lose your wits altogether, if I again expose you to the Circean wiles of the island enchantress." **Ihope you will not alter your intention, sir," said the jouth, again touching his cap. ** Well, well," exclaimed the captain, "I see you ere resolved not to take warning'-. Into the boat 202 THE CABIK boy's STOiLY, with you then. Mr. lloss (addressing the lieu- tenant) order the crew into the boat again, sir. I shall be back in the course of an hour." " Aye, aye, sir," said the lieutenant ; and then ho added — ** My curiosity has been so much excited that I should really like to accompany you on shore, in order to gratify it. Captain P , if you have no objection." ** None in the least, Mr. Ross," said the captain — Tell Mr. Roberts to take charge of the deck, and come along.'* Again the boat landed with the new visitors, and the captain and lieutenant were conducted to the house by the young midshipman. They found Miss Herbert seated with Zuleika, and already on good terms apparently, endeavoring to converse in a mixture of broken Spanish and English, but Jane Miller had disappeared. The captain and Mr. Ross were introduced rather through the medium of Miss Herbert than by young Miller. Loth were astonished and charmed with the beauty of the island recluse. "By Jove I" said Captain P , aside, to the lieutenant, " Captain Trainer had reason to eulogize the White Lady of Annabon. Who can she bo? and how did she get here ? I should much like to know, and yet it would be rude to ask, even if she would inform us. She seems to bo quite alone amongst these rude negroes." "There was a lad with her when I first came ashore," interposed young Miller, "who seemed to be on pretty familiar terms with her too ; a rough looking chap, dressed like the cabin boy or steward of some merchantman. But I have not seen him this time." " He is a very good looking, nay handsome lad," Interrupted Miss Herbert ; " but. ho has retired. The Lady intimates that he is unwoll." " You may think him handsome," said the young THE CABIN boy's STORY. 203 midshipman ; " but for my part I thought him the most ungainly cub I had ever seen." Zulcika 8at on an ottoman, at a short distance. She seemed ill at ease, and anxious that her visitors should take their departure, and observing this, the captain and lieutenant rose to take their leave. Miss Herbert and the young midshipman, of course, fol- lowing their example. At this moment a negro attendant entered the room and whispered in the ear of Zuleika. ** Will you be seated for a moment?" she said in Spanish, which request was translated by Miss Herbert. Of course the party resumed their seats, and in the course of a few minutes, Zuleika returned with a handsome bouquet of flowers which she presented to the captain, who thanked her and bade her fare- well. She glanced meaningly at Miss Herbert, who fell behind the party and walked with her to the entrance of the plantation surrounding the cottage. ** The bouquet w^as but an excuse to gain time," she said to Miss Herbert. ** Here are two letters, one for you and one for that young gentleman," pointing to young Miller. "They have been written while I was away on the pretext of getting the flowers — keen it secret that you have got them, and do not read them till you get on board your ship." Utterly astonished as she was at this strange termination of a strange visit, Miss Herbert, of course, gave the required promise, and bidding Zuleika farewell, she hastened to rejoin the party. *♦ Well, Miss Herbert," said Captain P ^ "has this fairy queen been bestowing her confidence upon you ? Can you enlijiliten us at all, as to who she is, and how she came to bo a recluse upon this island ?" " I cannot, sir," said Miss Herbert, " I did en- deavor to make some inquiries while I was left alone with her, but she evaded them, and seemed dis- pleased; so I did not press them; besides, some- times we could with difficulty understand each other.** 204 THE CABIN BOY'S STOTIT. " Well, I adhere to my already expressed supposi- tion regarding her," said tlie captain, as he stepped into the boat. ** She certainly is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld," said Lieutenant Ross. The boat reached the vessel, the captain, officers, and crew, with Miss Herbert, ascended the side; the boat was hoisted in, the main-yard squared, and the ship held on her course. Miss Herbert, to the astonishment of youngf Mil- ler, placed the letter she had received for him, which was sealed while hers was open, in his hand, the first opportunity she had to do so unperceived, say- in*? archly, "From the fair lady of Annabon to Mr. Miller." She then sought her own cabin to read her letter — her curiosity to know the contents of the myste- rious epistle, being of course greatly excited. She read it, and her astonishment was redoubled. It was written in a delicate female hand, and ran as follows : *' Lady, whoever you may be, trust not to him who gave you the ring you wear ; he has deceived me and another as well as me. He has caused my utter alienation from all whom I have hitherto held dear; and I fear he has deceived and betrayed ano- ther, who is too innocent and guiltless to distrust him. If he has not done so already, he will betray you. I know not whether you are on board the man-of-war with the intention of seeking him ; but if so, I tell you, he has gone home to America. I will not say what he is for the sake of the innocent being of whom I have spoken, I would not injure him ; but, be sure of this, he is not what he repre- sents himself to be. It is not the peaceful occupa- tion of the merchant service he follows — nor is he engaged in duties of the national service — you can make your own comments — I have but done my d^ity in warning you. tllE eA-rn- BOY*S STOKt. ** One who has loved and been deceived and be- trayed, as I fear you have.** Again and again did Charlotte Herbert perns© this singular note. What can she mean ? to whom or to what can she allude ? He who gave me this ring I (looking at the ring upon her finger.) * He is not what he seems,* perhaps in one sense, he is not ; in one sense I know too truly he is not. * He is not in the peaceful merchant service^ nor yet en- fjaged in the honorable duties of the national scr^ vice* Well, I know he is not. * One who has loved and been deceived and betrayed as, I fear, you have* Hal yes, there lies the key to these mysterious warnings — yes, poor girl ! she has been deceived and driven to insanity, and perhaps imprisoned on this lone island. That is her secret history, at least the outline of it ; perhaps there is a darker mystery be- neath its surface.** Miss Herbert folded up her letter, placed it in her pocket, and went on deck to breathe tho cool air of the evening, as the vessel was slowly sailing along the land, for the wind was light, and the island of Annabon was still in sight to leeward. Let us now discover what was contained in the letter that had been delivered to young Miller. His first thought when the letter was placed in his hand by Miss Herbert, was a very vain and simple one ; but after all, a very natural one to a youth of his age, who, to tell the truth, was somewhat proud of his own good looks. The watch below was called ; the watch on deck relieved, and at length the young midshipman found the long- coveted opportunity to read the letter he had so strangely received. As he opened the envelope a small package fell from the letter to the deck ; he let it lay for the present. The hand was evidently disguised, for the formation of the letters varied considerably, and the first thought of the youth, as he opened the letter, was, " What a pity 206 THE CABIN boy's STORY. 80 beautiful a creature should write such a clumsy hand. I can hardly spell it out ; however, let's see what she says — " * You have this day seen the sister whose ab- sence may have caused much grief to you and to her mother ; and yet, perhaps, you have already forgot- ten her, for you gazed upon her and did not recog • nize her. Is she so much altered ? Is her disguise then so perfect ? Perhaps it was well it was so, and yet had there been one sign of recognition, she would have thrown her arms around your neck, and embraced you ; though her plans would have been frustrated, and to your feelings as well as to hers, the expose might have been painful* " Hilloa ! What the d— I's the meaning of this ?'* exclaimed the youngster, who had already been initiated into certain sea expletives more expressive than euphonious. " Does that little witch mean to insinuate that she's my sister ? I wish she was— no I don't, though — I'd sooner she was my cousin, or something of that sort. But then she says, * Is her disguise so perfect T That's a little too much gammon, by Jove I Does she think that she's going to make me believe thai Jane— and poor Jane's a pretty girl, too — could effect so complete a metamorphosis as that ? Why, June's two inches taller, and stouter, and has dark hair, and features entirely different. No, no— I'm not quite such a simpleton as to be taken in that way. But let's see what more the little gipsy has to say. * ♦ ♦ * * There was no occasion for you to have endeavored to speaJc a foreign language^ of which you are almost entirely ignorant (very complimentary) ; /br, had you spoken English, you would have been, of course, better understood. (The d — 1 ! How provoking of the little witch. She understands English, and kept me jabbering a parcel of nonsense in a language I hardly know a dozen words of. I dare say she was laughing at me all the time she was pretending to THE CABIN boy's STORT. 207 look so serious. Just like the girls, that.) JSow- every it was better as it was. All is over; perhaps we shall never meet face to face again. We shall, if I can manage it.) I have been induced to write because I wisli you to let my mother, OUR mother know, and to reveal the fact to her alone, that I am living, and in good bodily health, (There she is again— off at a tangent. What the mischief can she mean? She's not my sister— I know that well enough — and yet she must know all about our family affairs. However, let me read to the end.) And now, dear brother, perhaps I now call you so for the last time (Ah I why didn't she say that when I was ashore — I'd have taken a kiss for that, at any rate ; but then, what humbug I * dear bro- ther,* as if she really expected me to believe her. Where was I ? ah I) for the last time. Fray keep this a secret from every one. Let no one know WHERE you have met me — not even OUR motber. Some day we HLKY meet again ; if not, farewell. My prayers and good wishes shall follow you wherever you may wander ' and that's all, exclaimed the youth, as he finished the perusal of the letter. "That beats cock-fighting — our mother! Why, she's no more like Jane than Miss Herbert is. Poor Jane I I wish I had met her. But how the d — I eould she know any thmg about me? She can't surely be J ano I No, to b« sure she isn't— unless she's been transmogrified hy some enchanter whose island she has invaided, Qr is an enchantress herself, like Ariel in the * Tempest.' It's almost enough to make a fellow believe in such things, to see such a creature as she living by herself in this out of the way part of the world. Halloa ! what's this that has fallen from the envelope ?" continued the youth, now recollecting the package that had fallen to the deck, and picking it up, he untwisted the paper, which contained some solid substance. "What I by all that's wonderful! here's the ring ^OS The cABtK' eoy's stort, my mother had upon her finger when I left home— the very same ring — with the first letter of Jane's name engraved inside." (The youth had never seen the ring worn by Miss Herbert, and alluded to in the former letter, as she had only put it on her finger when going ashore, and had removed it on her re- turn on board.) " Well, that caps the climax," continued he, drawing a long breath ; that's a poser, at any rate; there's some magic about it, that's certain. I'll believe any thing now. What's this inside the paper ? * A proofs for my mother^ that I am still living, Tonty give it to her^ and tell her to wear it for my sale* i wonder whether I'm awake or dreaming," said the lad, as he stood in a state of bewilderment, alternately contemplating the ring and the letter. ** I'll put it in my pocket, at all events, and see if I can find it there in the morning. Perhaps it may take a journey back again across the Atlantic. Well, I can make nothing of it. Either I'm mad, or the little fairy on the island is mad, or we are all under the influence of enchant- ment together: 1 shall turn in;** and the youth sprang into his hammock, and was soon sound asleep. When the watch was called, his first thought was to look for the letter and the ring. He thought he had been dreaming—but no, both were in his pocket. He went on deck, resolving to say nothing about the matter at present to any one. During the day Miss Herbert, whose curiosity had been as much excited as had young Miller's, and who had been almost equally as much puzzled to understand the allusions in her letter, sought an opportunity of speaking to the youth, and playfully asked what news he had from the lady of Annabon. "News," said the youngster in reply, "why she's either mad or bewitched, or is making a fool of me, one or the other. I don't want to hear anything more about her.** **Ye8," thought Misa Herbert, turning away, TEE CABIN boy's STOHY. 209 **Tt is evident the poor creature's mad; and yet there seems a ' method in her madness.' I do won- der who she is, and how she came to be placed in that singular position." From that period until the G went into Sierra Leone, where Miss Herbert w^as put on board a vessel bound to New Orleans, the " White Lady of Annabon" was a frequent subject of joke and jest amongst the officers ; it was noticed that young Miller did not like to jest upon the subject, and for that very reason he had to bear still more frequently the rude jokes of his companions. He wrote home to his mother and uncle from Sierra Leone, saying nothing, however, to the former with regard to his adventure at Annabon ; but in his letter to his uncle he mentioned the visit to the island, and spoke of a very beautiful girl who had lately been discovered to be living there, who he said, jokingly, had set half the captains and offi- cers on the station crazy. Let us now shift the scene for a few moments be- fore we wind up this present chapter, and return to the other side of the Atlantic. Seymour having sold his cargo and settled his af- fairs, left his ship in Bahia, to which place he had sailed from Aracati, and paid a visit to Mr. Mordant in New York. There he remained for a considerable time, mingling as usual in the gayeties of the city — still, as ever, the admiration of the ladies and the envy of the beaux. At length the time arrived for him to leave for the purpose of rejoining the Alba- tross. He was to start on another voyage to the coast of Africa, and he was busily engaged settling affairs relative to the voyage with the merchant, a packet of letters, which had just arrived from Sierra Leone, were brought in by a servant. One by ond Mr. Mordant took them and lead them. At lengtk he lighted upon the one from his nephew, "Ha I" he exclaimed, " a letter from my nephew 383 o 210 S'HE CABIN BOY'S STOET. Tom. By-the-by, I did not tell you. My nephew, Thomas Miller, has got a midshipman's berth on board the G , and they have sent the boy to the coast. Let's see what the youngster says and Mr. Mordant read the letter. He laughed when he came to the account of the recluse of Annabon, and read the paragraph aloud to Seymour, saying, when he had finished it, " Hav^e you ever heard of or seen this paragon of perfection, Seymour ?" ** No," said the latter, abruptly. He had started and clenched his teeth and knit his brows, while Mr. Mordant had been reading; but the merchant had not observed him. Now, however, he noticed that he looked pale. " You are unwell, Seymour ?" said he. " I don't feel very well I the room is too warm. I will wish you good morning, Mr. Mordant ; the air will revive me ; I have a slight headache and shaking the merchant's hand, he left the house. ** D tion. Ten thousand curses on the med- dling fools !" he exclaimed, hissing the words through his teeth, as he walked towards his lodg- ings. " So they have found my nest, have they. Let them beware how they meddle with it. Now, I must indeed be off to sea immediately." Captain Seymour, when he left Mr. Mordant, directly set sail for the Brazils, and arriving at Bahia, he found the Albatross ready for sea. He immediately went on board, and proceeded on his voyage to Annabon. Arriving there, to his dismay he found a Portuguese schooner, commanded by Don Sebastian de Silva, anchored close in shore. Seymour went on board the schooner, and pretended great friendship towards the captain, who recipro* cated his offers. For several days a series of invita- tions were given and returned by the captains to dine on board each other's vessel; and scenes of revelry and dissipation were daily witnessed by the crews of both vessels. At length, SeymouTi (who THE CABIN BOY'S STOHY. 211 had imparted his plans to those on board the Alba- tross whom he could trust,) after dinlug on board tho Portuguese schooner, where he had succeeded in inducing the captain to swallow bumper after bumper of wine, until he was completely intoxicated, as also were the other oflBcers and most of the crew, gave the signal when darkness had set in, and speedily the schooner was scuttled in several parts, and the vessel began to sink. Seymour now hastened to Zuleika's cottage, hurried her and J ane Miller on board the Albatross, set fire to the cottage, and the vessel proceeded on her course, no one knew whi- ther. CHAPTER XVII, Junot's diabolical Vengeance — ^A Pampero disables the Slaver, which is captured by a Cruiser, and Junot and his crew are carried to Sierre Leone to take their trial. It was a fine starlight night ; all possible sail was set, and studding sails spread alow and aloft, for the wind had veered round to the eastward, and was blowing a fine six knot breeze, and Captain Junot and his contrmnaestre were in high spirits at having escaped so fortunately from the guns of the man-of- war. " What is your pleasure, Senor, with regard to those devils the Englishmen put on board as a prize crew ?'* asked Paez of the captain. " Ah ! diahle. I had forgotten them. Bring the dogs up from the hold. How many of our crew are hurt ?" " Two were killed by the English sailors, while endeavoring to seize and overpower them, and one more severely hurt." "Ha! who are they?" " Peters and Bruneau are killed, and the negro Quashy will hardly live till daylight in tho morning." 212 THE CABIK STORlT. " Three of our best men," said the captain. " Go, fetch the dogs up, and I will interrogate them," he added savagely, and the mate retired to obey the order. Captain J unot stood loaning against the railing of the quarter deck, gazing savagely, and still with an air of exultation, upon the water, as it seemed to flash with phosphorescent light past the vessel. In a few minutes the coniramaestre reappeared up the hatchway, accompanied by two seamen as ferocious looking as himself, and followed by the master's mate and six English sailors, pale and weak from the loss of blood from the severe wounds they had received in the struggle that had been made to overpower them, their faces and clothing stained with the sanguinary tide, and so heavily ironed that it was with difficulty they could drag their limbs along to the quarter deck. Captain J unot looked up from the water and glanced at the captives ; his small bloodshot eyes, gleaming like coals of fire from beneath his heavy, ragged, grizzled eyebrows. There was a demoniacal ferocity in his steady gaze, which foretold the doom of the prisoners before he spoke. Their blood ran chill with horror ; but they endeavored to bear themselves bravely, and to maintain an appearance of outward composure — though one or two of them were so exhausted with loss of blood that they reeled like drunken men as they stood before their savage captor. You are the officer of the party, I see by your attire?" said the captain, after he had silently gazed at the prisoners for some moments, addressing the master's mate, whose name was Richards. " I am," replied the young man. "What death do j'ou deserve to die, dog, for having caused the death of two of my best hands " The men were killed by us in self-defence, and in the fulfilment of our duty," boldly replied the officer. THE CABIN boy's STOET. 213 " Ha I so you think, perhaps ; but men entertain different ideas of duty. What was it to you or your cursed captain, that we were engaged in the slave trade ? What right have you to make or meddle with us?" " The right that justice and humanity bestows," replied the young man. ** Bah ! Don't talk to me of justice and humanity. You shall have justice meted out to you shortly. As to humanity, it is only foors talk. Two of you must die, to revenge the death of two men of my crew who have fallen by your hands, and if the negro Quashy dies, so surely shall another of you suffer death ; but on one condition I will save your life, as the oflScer of the party. Inform me of every particular relative to the number and strength of the cruisers, English and American, that are upon the coast." "I will accept of no conditions from you or such as you," said the oflBcer boldly, though his heart shrunk within him as he spoke, for he was a young man of scarcely twenty years of age, and life was dear to him, and his future career brilliant with the high hopes and anticipations of youth ; but, he felt that he had his duty to perform as an oflBcer and an example to show his unfortunate companions— he felt that to accept conditions for his life from a pirate, would be to tarnish his honor for ever, and then that death were preferable. ** Hound, do you dare to taunt me thus," said the captain, savagely, and he stepped forward and struck the youth across the mouth with the hilt of his cut- lass, take that, and learn to keep a civil tongue in your head." A murmur of savage applause was heard from the lips of the seamen who were looking on, as they witnessed this brutal act of the captain's. " Strip off the fellow's jacket and search his pockets ; perhaps he has papers or letters with him 211 THE CABIN boy's STOllY, that may be of service,'* said Captain Junot, \(Iiose passion was now roused to demoniacal fury, A couple of seamen threw themselves upon the unfortunate youth and bore him to the deck; his jacket was stripped oS and searched, but nothing was found. A locket suspended from his neck, which had hitherto been concealed by his vest, attracted the attention of the captain. What is that ?" said he. "Pull it off." It was done, and the locket con- tained a lock of hair and the portrait of a dark-blue- eyed girl, was given into the monster's hands by his ready satellites. "Ha! ha! a pretty piece of goods. I wish I had her here," exclaimed the captain, and then throwing the trinket upon the deck, he crushed it beneath the heel of his heavy sea boot. " Now, dog of an Englishman, will you sue for your life ?" demanded the brutal pirate chief, com- pelling the youth to rise to his feet. "Never," responded the young oflBcer. " Then take that," exclaimed the captain, dealing a heavy blow with the edge of his cutlass, which he had drawn from the scabbard, upon the unprotected head of the youth I The blade sunk deep into the skull of the un- happy captive, cleaving it in twain; there was a groan of mortal agony, a horrible crushing sound, and the dead body fell heavily to the deck, amidst the pool of blood which had gushed in torrents from the frightful wound. " Heave the carrion overboard," said the captain, and the order was promptly obeyed. " Now, dogs that you are, you see what justice I deal out," said the captain, whom the sight of blood appeared to have driven to insanity. " Mark the sign of the cross upon your foreheads with that blood, and swear to embrace our trade, and your lives shall be spared, all biit two— two must die to THE CABIN boy's STORY. 215 avenge the deaths of my own men ; but for that you shall cast lots. What say you ?" "Never," feebly responded the unhappy men, for they were sick with horror at the sight they had witnessed. "Your blood be upon your own heads, then,** exclaimed the Captain— and the men who had gradually crowded closer upon the quarter deck, murmured in harsh, savage voices, " blood for blood." " Sailmaker,** shouted Captain Junot, are the dead men's hammocks ready and shotted ?'* "A]l ready, sir,** responded the sailmaker — a Portuguese seaman whose complexion was bronzed to the color of a negro. " Then, Senor Paez, take two of these men, and place them back to back with the dead bodies of Peters and Bruneau, and sew them up in the ham- mocks, and when you are ready throw them over- board — and carpenter (shouting to that functionary) rig the plank — the other four shall walk overboard, Mafoi ! but the sharks shall have a feast to-night." Two of the unfortunate seamen, unable to oflfer any resistance, were seized by the wretches of pirates and bound back to back — living men with the corpses of the dead — and the hammocks being sewed around them, heavily shotted, they were laid, struggling with mortal terror, near the gangway. The " plank,** meanwhile, had been rigged by the carpenter and his willing assistants. It wag a smooth piece of board, about eight feet long, which was accurately balanced and secured by a tackle across the gangway. A weight of about a hundred pounds was fastened to the end which hungin-board ; 60 that until the weight of a man*s body approached the outward extremity, it would not top over. This Elank was raised by some of the crew, and the two ammocks, with their dead and living freight, were i^iinphed from it into the deep. Pale with horror, 216 THE CABIN boy's STORY. the unhappy remnant of the captives witnessed this frightful scene, and stood silently awaiting their turn, for they felt that any appeal for mercy from the demons in human form by whom they were surrounded, would be in vain; but the scene of hellish horror was not yet ended ; it needed yet some further embellishment of Pandemoniacal cruelty. *' Bring Quashy from his hammock," shouted the captain, and the negro, his usually black complexion changed to a sickly yellow — frightful to look upon, and his features distorted with pain, was brought up and supported by two of his negro messmates in a position to view the tragedy that was being enacted. **Now, men," said Captain Junot, addressing his brutal crew, "and you, too, Quashy; see how 1 avenge any injury offered to you. Peters and Bru- neau have been revenged, Quashy ; these others die TO satisfy your vengeance. Draw out two boarding- pikes" (addressing two seamen who stood near him). The sharp instruments were brought from the row which glittered in the bracket around the niain- masfc. ** And now, dogs," said the captain to the hapless seamen, *'walk that plank. "What! you won't. Then drive them with the pikes," added the captain to the two seamen who held the weapons in their hands ; and the sharp points of the pikes were ap- plied to the backs of the wretched, hapless captives^ until they shrieked with agony, while the blood coursed in streams from the wounds. Goaded to desperation, the half-maddened seamen — to whom a speedy death was now the greatest mercy — stepped upon the fatal plank, and walked to the opposite end ; it tilted with their weight, and in another mo- ment, amidst the shouts, and taunts, and jeers of the demon crew, they were launched into the yielding waters ; the irons fastened to their legs bore them down, the waters closed above them, and the ship passed on ; and the stars shone forth as clearly, and THE CABIN BOY'S STOEY. 217 the water sparkled as brilliantly with the phospho- rescent light as though no such deed of horror had happened. Get water and wash these stains of blood from the deck," said the captain ; but the contramaestre directed his attention to the negro, who had been torn from his hammock to witness the consumma- tion of the foul tragedy. He was dead in the arms of his supporters. " Throw him overboard with the rest," said the captain, laughing brutally, *' he is only a negro, after all, and he has been revenged." And the body of Quashy plashed into the water and floated past, bobbing up and down in the wake of the vessel, for no shot had been fastened to him, A murmur of disapprobation arose from the negro portion of the crew ; but they comprised a minority, and were held in subjection by the rest, and they were soon quieted. Captain Junot descended to his cabin with the air of a man who had carried out a decree of justice. Thus were the fears of Captain Trainer, of the Rapid, verified, and the expectations of Captain P , that the slaver captain would not dare to treat the cap- tives with cruelty, proved faulty. Few men can conceive the condition of utter callousness to human Buffering that the hearts of those engaged in the slave trade are inured to. " It was the contramaestre^ s watch on deck, and Captain Junot, bavmg descended to his cabin after the enaction of the horrid cruelties we have de- scribed, poured out a tumbler half full of brandy, and drinking it off at a draught, threw himself upon a sofa and was soon in a heavy slumber, which con- tinued until the watch was relieved at midnight. But a change of scene had taken place overhead, although no symptom of the change was apparent in the cabin, save that the sound of the water was no longer heard plashing against the sides as the ship 218 THE CABIN boy's STORY, gallantly ploughed her path through the yielding element. All was hushed, silent, ominously still, and although the stem windows of the cabin were open, the heat was oppressive, and almost stifling, for no longer the cooling breeze rushed in from the ocean. The captain glanced out of the cabin win- dows, and then seemed to awaken to the presence of some approaching evil. With an oath upon his lips he rushed upon the deck. The vessel was lyiug motionless upon the water ; her sails flapping heavily and lazily against the mast, but none of them taken in. The' stars which had beamed so brightly from the dark azure canopy of heaven upon the late scene of blood and horror, had vanished, and the sky was as dark as pitch ; a lead-coloured haze, so dense as to seem almost palpable, pervaded the atmosphere, and the ocean had lost its late phosphorescent brilliancy, and became dark and turgid. The watch had been relieved before the change had occurred, although it was not yet a quarter of an hour past midnight ; but in these latitudes the changes come on suddenly ; the mate in charge of the deck — who had never be- fore visited the coast, having been shipped in Havana on a recommendation from a slave merchant, on account of his reckless ferocity (he had for some years pursued the career of a pirate in the Greek Archipelago) — had failed to take warning by the change — while the crew, stretched here and there about the decks, under the lee of the bulwarks, soundly sleeping, or listlessly lounging over the railing of the vessel, were gazing carelessly and thoughtlessly into the dark water. ^' Mon Dieu! Sacre mille tonnerres] mats nous aurons un veritable pamjperoP* exclaimed Captain Junot, and cursing the apathy of the officer in charge, he ordered that all hands should be called immedi- ately, and sail taken in as rapidly as possible. The pamperos, or hurricanes peculiar to the coast of Africa, like the typhoons of the East Indies, THE CABIN BOY*S STOEY. 219 come on suddenly, only giving warning by the wind dying away, and the sky and the sea assuming an ashy hue, while the atmosphere becomes oppressive in the extreme. This ominous calm is the pre- cursor of torrents of rain, followed by terrific squalls of wind, accompanied by thunder and lightning of the most startling and vivid description. It is cus- tomary in such cases, when there is plenty of room, to take in all possible sail, and allow the ship to run directly before the gale, which sometimes lasts but an hour or two ; although, when the pampero is of unusual violence, it endures for as many days. There was still hope that before the rain came on there might be time to clew up the sails, aud all hands were now fully aroused to the critical nature of their position. The negro boys were ordered aloft to furl the royals and take in the topgallant studding sails, the topgallant sails were clewed up, and the topsail halyards let go by the run, prepara- tory to being furled; when a strange rushing sound, like that of a cataract that had been dammed up, suddenly broken loose, and precipitated with resistless fury^over a valley beneath, was heard to the northwestward ; then came a vivid flash of light- ning, and a peal of deafening thunder, and the cry arose from a score of voices at once, ** The pam- pero—the pampero is upon us !" The order was given to put the vessel before the "wind, which was expected to come from the quarter whence the sound of the approaching rain and tho first peal of thunder had been heard ; but the ship was too much encumbered with sail, and the wind, almost as soon as the first heavy rain-drops pattered upon the deck, burst upon them with such violence that it was found impracticable to obey the order. The ship would not answer her helm, the waves rose as rapidly as the wind, and the vessel was thrown into tbe trough of the sea. " Aloft there ! you lazjr» lubberly, black rascalf^ 220 THE CABIN boy's STORY. bear a hand and furl those royals." shouted the cap- tain, through his speaking trumpet. Hurry, men, hurry — roll up the sails — cut, cut them adrift with your knives if you cannot furl them," he added, his voice rising to a shrill shriek, as he repeated his orders — the danger becoming every moment more imminent ; but his shouts were unheard— had they been heard they would have been alike unheeded ; for the men were blinded and bewildered by the rain driven horizontally by the force of the wind, and cutting the flesh like hail, and by the quickly suc- ceeding flashes of blue lightning which illumined the midnight darkness, as if the glare of a thousand torches had suddenly gleamed from the dark sky, disclosing the laboring vessel, struggling like a liv« ing thing in mortal agony, amidst a sea of foam, and rendering the succeeding darkness blacker still, and more terrific. And now the peals of thunder rolled almost continuously over the heads of the be- wildered and frightened seamen, louder than the roar of a thousand parks of artillery — so loud, so deafening, that even the wind for the moment seemed to lull as if its fury was aj^alled and con- trolled by the terrific concussion of the atmosphere above. In one of these lulls a sharp crackling sound was heard aloft ; and a cry as of some one shrieking in mortal terror. A bright flash of light- ning lit up the scene, and those on deck cast their eyes aloft. Black forms were seen clinging with all their might to the yards and rigging, for those who had gone aloft, in obedience to the order of the cap- tain, to furl the sails, had not only found themselves powerless to effect this, but were prevented by the presence of the wind from descendiiig to the deck— and on they clung to their treacherous, precarious tenure, with a clutch like that of drowning men; but whence that cry ? The vessel had rolled heavily over to windward during the temporary lull, and in a^ain making a corresponding lurch to leeward, the TfiE CABIN BOY'S STOfif. 221 ghroud that supported the top-gallant and royal masts, snapped like whip cord, and the masts them- selves, no longer able to bear the force of the wind, splintered and rocked to and fro, and at last, with a sudden crash, snapped asunder, and fell over, dandling backwards and forwards in mid air— hang- ing by the lee rigging. Some of the hapless wretches who had so long clung helplessly to this frail tenure, were at once precipitated into the boiling ocean, falling in the darkness, and amid the wild confusion of the elements, unseen, unheard, unheeded by their comrades below. Others still clung with the energy of despair to the dangling wreck; but they could not long retain their hold ; some were crushed be- tween the masts and yards, as the spars swung to and fro ; others were shaken off — even the desperate strength lent them by despair, no longer enabling their numbed and paralyzed fingers to retain their hold ; they, too, fell one by one into the seething, foaming ocean caldron beneath; some unseen amid the blackness of the night ; the dark falling figures of others recognized for a moment in the lightning's red unearthly glare; but the situation of those on deck was too dangerous for them to take heed of the peril of their shipmates. They were not men to trouble themselves at any time about the distress or agony of others ; least of all now, when they stood cling- ing to the bulwarks in momentary dread of being themselves swept from the deck by some mighty wave. A mortal dread seized the minds of all, for when death threatened them face to face, the evils of a misspent life, darkened by deeds of savage cruelty, such as the wild beasts of the forest wot not of — such as are only conceived in the brains of savage men, rushed to their memory and completely unnerved them ; there were some who thought that the cruelties the evening of that fearful night had witnessed, had brought upon them this judgment — that the blood of the murdered seamen had called 222 THE CABIN -rot's STORY. for vengeance, and aroused to fury the spirit of the storm — they fancied they heard unearthly howlings, and gibberings, and chatterings in the air, mingling with the noise of the tempest, and believed these sounds to issue from the spirits of the murdered, laughing at the doom which seemed to await the murderers. Yet, were they not all alike, even, in their terror. Some clung to the bulwarks or lashed themselves to the stanchions, and awaited with sullen gloom their apparent fate. Others wept and prayed, and swore, and groaned in the agony of mortal terror ; others were rife in promises of amendment; and some who, now in their fright, believed firmly in the eflScacy of mediation with the Being they scorned to acknow- ledge in their pride and prosperity, made vows and promised gifts to their patron saints and to the Holy Virgin, if only this once they were delivered from peril. Amongst these last was the confmmaes^re. who loudly promised to purchase half a dozen of the biggest wax candles he could procure, and place them before the altar of the chapel of the Virgin in his native town at Sago via, in Spain, if he were allowed once again to set his feet on dry land. More heavily still the ship labored in the trough of the sea; her planks were strained to a degree that rendered it certain that she must be leaking fast, yet none dare venture to sound the pumps. And now the sea began to pour over the deck, sweeping away the boats, and tearing away the bulwarks as though the tough oak planks were pasteboard. And at every sweep some victim was carried oflf into the boiling sea, his wild shriek of despair mingling with the howling of the wind and the roar of the thunder. And now a flash of red and blue lightning, so vivid that it seemed to sear the eyeballs, and scorch out the eyesight of all who witnessed it, struck the deck amidships, near the chainlocker, and passed, hissing THE CABIN EOy's STORY. 223 along tlie wet chain-cable, and dealing death to all with whom it camo in contact, escaped' by the hawse-holes. The flash was followed immediately by a clap of thunder, which seemed to burst forth from the verge of the horizon to windward, and to pass immediately over the vessel, increasing in loud- ness as it drew near, crashing and rolling and crashiDg again, as it passed away to leeward with a sound as if the mountains of the earth were rent asunder by a thousand explosions, and the fragments dashed in wild confusion one against the other. The wind was stilled ; even the sea was calmed with the terrible concussion, and the ship trembled in every plank. All thought that their hour was come. For a moment their prayers and tears, and groans and promises were hushed ; their eyes were blinded with the lightning, yet they seemed to gaze upon each other in blank, mute despair. The idea that now all was over seemed to flash through the brains of the survivors of that lately numerous, reckless and savage crew, but the silence was but for a moment— " Then rose from sea to sky the wild farewell, Then shrieked the timid and stood still the brave, While some leaped overboard, with dreadful yell, As eager to anticipate the grave." The words of the poet were literally fulfilled, for that night of terror had driven some to madness, and half a dozen of the crew leaped into the sea, while the distant roar of the awful thunder peal, still faintly heard, sounded their requiem, and rush- ing waters joined with the howling winds in dismal chorus. The boldest now waited in momentary expectations of* the vessel foundering ; but they were spared. The storm had spent its fury, and the dis- cordant elements seemed to have exhausted them- selves in that last fearful shock ; the wind lulled — the sea gradually went down, and the Dolphin, a mere wreck of her former pride and beauty, still floated in safety upon the troubled waters. Of the 224 Tiri: CAiim Bov's sToiif* crew of fifty men but seventeen remained ; the rest hdd been washed from the decks or had fallen over- board from aloft. The carpenter sounded the pump- well ; the ship was stout and strong ; notwithstand- ing the wrenching her planks had sustained, there were only eighteen inches of water in the hold ; this leak could be easily kept under. Hope revived within the breast of the captain and the remnant of the crew. Tbey would yet reach Cuba in safety. But the slaves— the miserable wretches cooped up in the hold throughout the storm — how had they fared while the ship had been tossed like a child's toy upon the waters ? As soon as the necessary work had been done to enable the half disabled ves- sel to proceed on her course — as soon as the wreck aloft had been cleared away, the torn sails unbent and replaced by fresh ones, and the vessel pumped dry, Captain Junot thought of the living freight below, upon the safety and health of whom the success of his voyage depended. The hatches w^ere removed, and Paez, accompani- ed by two other seamen, descended to the spar deck. God I what an awful sight met their view. The storm had done its work upon the unhappy negroes ; the retribution which had fallen upon the guilty seamen had involved destruction to their hapless victims. As is too often the case in this world, the innocent had suffered with the guilty. The staples by which the negroes were bound to the deck had given way, and they had been tumbled violently one against the other, pell-mell, in dreadful confu- sion. The breath had been crushed out of some of the more weakly — they had died of suffocation ; the limbs of others were broken; and again, others, especially the children, had fallen victims to the foul and confined air they had been compelled to breathe — for the hatches had been securely battened down and covered tightly with tarpaulins, so that a breath of fresh air could not enter the closely pack- Tlir/ CABIN BOY*S STORY. 225 ed hold. The stench that arose when the hatches were lifted was insupportable ; even the brutal and practised Paez recoiled from it; until, by admission, of the fresh breeze, the hold had become in some measure purified. Then he set to work to count the number of the dead, the dying, and the helpless- ly maimed. Thirty were hoisted upon deck dead and disfigured ; ten others, who still breathed, but who were evidently drawing their last breath, were added to the list, and twelve had their legs and arms broken so as to render them useless. These, too, were hoisted upon deck and examined by the captain. Fifty-two in all. So^much loss on th© profits of the voyage I With a fearful oath Captain Junot ordered them to be thrown overboard — the dead, the dying, and the maimed together. In vain were the shrieks, the cries of agony of the wretched beings, as they implored for mercy; their appeals only called forth brutal jests and curses from the crowd, and Paez was so irritated at the loss that he swore he wouldn't give the Virgin the candles he had promised her. Still there were hopes that two hundred slaves might be landed in Cuba. Another vessel had ridden out the gale in com- pany with the Dolphin, although she had been too far distant for either to see the other — and she had not suffered as the Dolphin had ; for proper precau- tions had been taken ; her sails had been furled in time, and she had been *'hove to/' under her storm jib and mizen staysail. As day began to break, the captain of this vessel — the Buzzard, Briiish sloop- of- war— had ordered more sail to be set, and the vessel proceeded on her course. " It has been an awful rough night, master," said the captain, addressing that officer; "I am used to the coast, and I don't know when 1 experi- enced a more severe pampero, I pity the fate of those who have been caught in it, at the outset un» awares.'* 883 P 226 TUE CABIN boy's STORY. " Most of the traders here are accustomed to looli out for these hurricanes," was the reply of the master. *' Sail ho- 0-0 I" shouted the look-out man, from aloft. *' Where away ?'* shouted the master, in reply. Dead to leeward, sir ; she has nothing but her top-masts standing, and appears to be disabled." Take the spyglass aloft, master," said the cap- tain, and see what you can make of her ; see if she shows any signals ; whether or not, if she is disabled, we will bear down towards her." The sea was running high, and the master start- ed aloft, and looked in the direction pointed out by the seaman. "What do you make her out to be, master?" shouted the captain. " A merchantman in distress, I rather think, sir; she has carried away her top- gallant masts in the gale of last night, most likely, and the crew are bending new sails. She is close to, and you might see her easily from the deck, if the sea were to go down a little more, or if her top-gallant masts were a-taunto." "We will bear down and see if she wants aid," said the captain ; and he ordered the yards to be squared, and the course to be altered directly for the stranger. In less than half an hour she was distinctly visible from the deck, still rolling heavily in the trough of the sea, for want of suflScient sail. On the other hand, the captain of the Dolphin — for, as the reader will have surmised, it was she that had been discovered in her crippled state by the sloop-of-war — had seen the Buzzard bearing down towards him, and had made her out to be a ship of war. He cursed, and stormed, and raved, and tore his hair in his frantic rage. Another of those cursed cruisers," said he; TITT; CA'nm UO"X*S 5?T0I^Y. 227 they swarm thick as bees. Oh ! that I had power to annihilate them and sink them to h — 1." "What's to be done now, Senor?" asked the contramaestre. " We shall be overhauled that's certain, and if we are caught with these negroes on board '* — " The ship will be taken as a prize," interrupted the captain, " and we shall be hanged as pirates, for if we are taken into port, the dead will rise up against us. We shall have to account for the prize crew of the brig-of-war." The negroes must go overboard. It is a pity — an infernal pity. We shall make a ruinous voyage altogether — nothing but bad luck from beginning to end," said the contramaestre. "It must be so," answered Junot. ''There is no help for it. It is their lives or ours— but— I'll be revenged yet." The danger was imminent. The man-of-war was not a mile distant. She would soon be within hail, and then all would be lost. Without another word the contramaestre descended with a dozen of the orew into the hold. Shot were fastened to the feet of the miserable victims, and they were rapidly passed out of the port holes to leeward, so that the work of death going on should not be observed by those on board the sloop-of-war. Of all the negroes that less than twenty- four hours before filled the spar deck, but two were retained. These were the two negro children already spoken of as belonging to the Yunga Jagos woman, who had escaped from thb Albatross and been carried to Liberia by the Firefly, by the crew of which vessel, the reader will recollect she was rescued. These children Captain Junot had taken a fancy to ; they were quite young, and were handed up to him, fast asleep, by the mate and placed by the captain in his own state-room berth, where he thought they would be safe from the observation of the officers of the man-of-war, even if they should insist on searching his vessel. 228 THE CABITT BOr'S STOHT. The man-of-war was within hail — " What ship Is that ?" asked the captain, through his trumpet. *' The French ship Bienfaisant, from Dominique, bound to the coast for ivory," replied Captain Junot. " We have been crippled in the gale last night." ** Do you want any assistance ?" asked the captain of the sloop-of-war. " No, I thank you ; we shall do very well. We shall run before the wind until our repairs are com- pleted, and then we shall shape our course for the Coast again." I wish you success and better luck in future," said the captain of the man-of-war, and so saying, he waved farewell with his trumpet and gave orders for the sails to be trimmed, and the course to be changed. " That's fortunate," said Captain Junot, as he saw the man-of-war making preparations to stand on her proper course. "Oh what a cursed fool I was to throw those negroes overboard.'* But the slaver captain had reckoned without his host. A lieutenant advanced to the captain of the sloop -of- war, and said : — " I am greatly mistaken, sir, if that vessel is not a slaver. I could almost swear to having chased her upwards of a twelve month ago. If she be the vessel I expect she is, one of the most desperate fellows that ever lived commands her — a Frenchman of the name of Junot." " Ha! say you so, Mr. Howard," said the captain. " In that case we may as well send a boat onboard ; but unless we have proof that she has slaves on board we can't search her. The vessel you speak of sails, I believe, under American colors." She does, sir ; but she way have slaves now on board." ** Ten thousand curses on them ; they are going to board us after all, said Junot, as he saw the main- yard of the sloop-of-war thrown aback, and a boat THE CABIN boy's STORY. 229 lowered ; but let them come. Sacre fonnerre ; they can find nothing.*' In a few moments the boat was alongside, and the lieutenant already spoken of, ascended to the deck. " I should like to see your papers," said he to the captain, siijnificantly. You shall see them,'* said Junot (he carried false papers already prepared), and these he showed the officer. They answered the description he had given of his vessel when he had first been hailed. The officer looked disappointed, and was preparing to return to his ship, when a man rushed out from the forecastle, and begged the officer to remove him from the ship. " Hang me at the yard arm, if you will," said the man; '* do what you will with me, but remove me hence. This vessel is a slaver — a pirate. I have served in many a slaver; I have be- come accustomed to scenes of bloodshed ; but on board this craft I have seen sights which have chilled my blood with horror. Seven of your countrymen have been murdered by that man (pointing to the captain) within the last twenty-four hours, and not half an hour since two hundred negroes were cast overboard. The Dolphin is a hell afloat, and Captain Junot is worse than the devil. If you want more proof — if you won't believe my word — search the cabin ; two negro children — all that are left — are concealed there. But don't leave me here,** and the man shuddered with horror and aff'right. *'The Dolphin! Captain Junot! eh?'* said the officer; "as I suspected. I have long sought to make your acquaintance, Captain Junot. With your leave, I'll proceed to search the vessel. You (addressing the sailor) can go at once into the boat my man.** " You shall suffer for this," said Junot, vindictive- ly. " You have no right to search my ship.** " Never mind, my good fellow we shall see. I 230 THE CABIN boy's STORY. shall at any rate secure you on the charge of murder, I hope you will be able to prove your innocence.** Seeing that remonstrance was useless, and know- ing that under the guns of the sloop-of-war force would be equally so, Captain Junot resolved to submit with the best grace he could. He trusted to the silence, for their own sakes, of the rest of the crew, and hoped that the evidence of the witness would be disbelieved, and that he himself would not be recognized. He had got clear of many awkward scrapes through the good friend to whom the recre- ant sailor had aptly compared him. He hoped to get clear of this, though he felt that things looked awkward enough just now. The two children were found in the cabin, and were sent on board the man-of-war, and the boat returning with the officer, a strong prize crew was sent on board the slaver. Captain J unot and his crew were carried on board the sloop-of-war and put in irons, to await their trial at Sierra Leone, whither the captain of the man-of-war determined at once to proceed. CHAPTER XVIIL Mr. Mordant's troubles increase — He meets with a severe Domestic Aflaiction. Dear me, dear me, how very singular — how in- comprehensible to me is this determination of Sey- mour's,** muttered Mr. Mordant to himself, as he was sitting in his library in his house in Place, with a packet of letters before him — one of which he had twice perused, and still held in his hand ; and the wealthy old merchant laid the hand which held the letter on his knee, and with knit brow and compressed lips, sat twirling his gold double eye-glass round his finger by the black silk ribbon which held it, as was customary with him, when in what is termed a brown study. Perfect- THE CABIN boy's STORY. 231 ly incom-prelieiisible," lie repeated, slowly empha- sising the syllables — "I can't understand it," and he raised his left hand which held the letter, and again placing his eye-glass to his eye ran over sundry of the paragraphs again. t * « « « J £ave made arrangements for a supply of freight, as usual, with Loango Chiefs, — um— um — um. All very well, so far as that goes — * Tolcroft will navigate the vessels to the Brazils. He is careful, and 1 have instructed him how to act; besides furnishing him with letters of intro- duction to certain parties you wrote of, in Aracati and Bahia ' — very well, all very well, if Tolcroft is able to manage things properly, lie is a good sea- man enough, I know that ; but, bless me, such a blundering, uncouth dog — that I have my misgiv- ings. * I think' (again reading the letter), *you should expect to hear of the Albatross at Aracati, or somewhere upon the coast, during the ensuing month of August, if all goes on favorably.' Yes, if all goes on favorably ; but it is too bad of Seymour, to play me this trick. What can have possessed the man ? What mad freak has he taken into his head ? * I arrived at Sierra Leone, a week ago, and shall leave for St. Lewis on the Senegal, to- morrow, in a French coasting craft, there 1 shall probably find a vessel bound to the southern coast of France, and as imperative business calls me to the Mediterranean, I shall embrace that, which I think the readiest opportunity of reaching that sea. It is not necessary at present to explain my future plans ; but if all goes well, you will see me in New York by October next.* "Strange, very strange indeed! but what else does he say I Ah — u** * * * * By-the-by— I hear Bad tid. .ings of the Dolphin, Junot, it appears got away from the cruiser, which, you recollect, I informed 23 2 THE CAEIN EOT's STOI'Y. yoTi had captured her and well nigh entrapped me; but he was caught in a jpamjpero and his vessel was disabled — sheer carelessness on his part. These pamperos are quite harmless if a proper look-out is Kept and sail reduced in time — and she was taken the following day by a British man-of-war, and, of course, made a prize of — having at the time she was disabled upwards of two hundred slaves on board — whom Junot threw overboard when he saw the man- of-war was coming to board her. He might have got clear off— though at a dreadful sacrifice of life and property— after all; but, it appears that he had expended the prize crew who had been placed on board by the vessel that first captured him, and from which he made his escape — cleverly enough — I give him credit for that. But one of his crew, horrified at the scenes he had witnessed — Junot was always d — d careless who he engaged, brute as he was — informed the British officer of the murder. Of course the Dolphin was seized, and she and her of- ficers and crew were carried into St. Helena, where the latter were brought to trial. The vessel was condemned and sold, and the captain and officers sentenced to death. The two mates were hanged ; but Junot shot himself in prison the night preceed- ing the day on which he was to have been executed. The crew were sent adrift, and I suppose by this time are scattered about in various places. Alto- gether it was a bad job ; but it served Junot right. He was a coward and a brute into the bargain; and, although we are all compelled to do dirty jobs occasionally, he had a bungling way of doing things, which was repeatedly getting him into trouble. It is such men as he that bring disgrace upon us, and I can't say I am sorry for his fate— I hope the loss will not fall very heavily upon you. By the way, I forgot to say that there were two negro babies found in the cabin of the Dolphin — which have been sent to Sierra Leone — the only portion of the freight found on board. THE CA"BIN boy's STOHY. 233 " Pooh !" said the merchant as he concluded the extract. What the D — 1. I mean what is it to me whether any negro babies were found or not. I shall lose a pretty penny by the afi'air — although fortunately the loss will not fall altogether on me. That, however, is not tbe worst of it. It may lead to inquiries which may not be pleasent. Well, well ; bad news never comes single. I am a good deal nrore annoyed at Seymour's strange conduct than I am at the loss of the Dolphin. I had made up my mind to that — " and Mr. Mordant folded up the letter ; placed it in the bundle and locked it up in his desk. Then again seating himself in bis arm- chair, he gazed pensively into the evening twilight, while the contortion of the muscles of his face, the knitting of his brows, and the nervous twitching of the lines around his closely compressed lips, showed evidently that his mind was ill at ease. Mr. Mordant was interrupted in his soliloquy by the entrance of the servant into the room, with a silver tray in his hand. " A letter, sir, from Mr. Grindley," said he, Mr. Mordant received the letter, opened it, and read as follows : " Nassau Street. ''Dear Sir :~I called at your office this after- noon, but you had left before I arrived. I should wish to see yon alone to-morrow at eleven o'clock, a.m. I am afraid we shall get into some trouble respect- ing the capture of the Dolphin — which misfortune you have already been advised of. I have written this evening, in order that you may not make any other engagement at that hour to-morrow. The emergency is fressing^ or I would have called at — - Place to-night myself; but I am busy raking up and arranging all letters and bills, etc., relating to that unfortunate vessel. If you have any of the documents at your liouse, please bring them with you to-morrow. yours, truly, " C. Mordant, Esa. John Grindley." 234 THE CABIN BOY'S STORY, The merchant crumpled the letter fiercely in his hand. It seemed as though some dark plot to effect his ruin were thickening around him, but he spoke not a word ; he sat for some moments absorbed iu thought— then burning the letter by the flame of the candle on the table, he threw it on the hearth, and watched it until the last glittering spark had van- ished, and the blackened and charred fragments alone remained. " I will go and join my family in the parlor," thought he, then. " If I remain here any longer, I shall go mad — mad;" and he rose from his seat, extinguished the candles, and descended to the parlor. He found his wife in a great state of con- sternation, and his daughter Mary weeping bitterly. Mr. Mordant was usually a man, outwardly, of calm demeanor. He seldom gave way to fits of passion — at home never ; but he had already suffered various vexations, and now that he had come, hoping to forget his annoyances for a time, in the bosom of his family, and had found them in the condition described, he could no longer control himself. What is the meaning of this ?'* he demanded furiously. Mrs, Mordant, without uttering a word, placed an open note, beautifully written on embossed paper, in his hand. He read as follows : — "Toronto, C. W., July 11, 18—. "Dear Papa and Mamma : — Forgive your erring child, I know you will, after your first flush of anger is past. I could not live without my Henry's love. And he, poor fellow, threatened to drown himself if I hesitated to become his wife. And he would have done so — I am sure he would — for he is so romantic in his notions of afliection. And he knew that, poor as he is, you would never give a consent to our union. Dear papa and mamma — he was almost eragy^ he tells me, after you discharged him from the housej on account of what you considered our THE CABIN BOY*S STOEY. 235 imprudent attachment ; and when I went to my aunt's at Albany, he followed me. He used to watch me, he tells me^ at my hed-room window^ anxious to catch only one glimpse of my form as I was about retiring to rest, for nights and nights to- gether; and, at last,, he ventured to meet me, and speak to me, when I was taking my walks on the Troy road — Such an object of pity, I am sure you would have pitied him had you seen him — haggard, and pale, and shabby, and his lovely beard and •moustache all ragged, and actually turned red ! He says the color changed in a single night, for love of me. And so shabby, poor fellow I He had not the heart to dress him self tidily, thinking that! scorned him. I promised to see him the next day at the same hour. What else could I do? I could not witness the wreck I had made without feeling commiseration. I begged him, however, to attire himself with greater propriety, so that our meetings might not create impertinent observation, and he said he would ; but in his frantic eagerness to see me, he had left his wardrobe in New York, and had actually come down — only think of that! — without bringing any money with him beyond what he needed for his travelling expenses. I immediately lent him the hundred dollars you gave me when I left homo. What else could I do ? And my dear Henry * looked himself again.' When next I met him, which was on the following morning, even his beard and moustache had regained their original, glossy black. He said it was the reaction of feeling. I have read of such changes^ in poetry; — does not Byron say, * My hair turned white in a single night and dear papa and mamma, in a moment of love's intoxication, I consented to elope with him to Canada —and yesterday we were married—- and now, I and my dear husband sue to you for forgiveness. My dearest Henry has disposed of my jewels for me, to supply our immediate necessities— Pawned them^ he 236 THE CABIN EOy's STORY. Bays, tliat is, put them somewhere^ where we can get them again when we have the money to redeem them, which, believing in your affection, I hope will be soon, and that papa will send us a letter inviting us to throw ourselves at your feet, and take yottr hlessififf, which we are both all anxiety to receive. Dear Mamma, you canH thinTc how Henry is ad- mired here ; everybody says he is such a love of a man ; but we are beginniuii- to want money already. So pray write us soon, or the hearts of both Blenry and myself will be hrolcen. " Your erring, disobedient, yet still affectionate daughter, Satiah.*' " P. S. — Henry wishes me to unite his love with mine, in remembrance towards you. The dear fellow says he can readily conceive how papa should be angry, on finding that a humble music master was seeking his daughter*s hand — but he can just as readily ybr^ive him. Is that not nohle and self- sacrificing on his part ? " P. P. S. — I forgot to say that Dear Henry tells me he is in this country under an assumed name. He is a noJZmaw, and his estates lie somewhere or other in some place with a strange name that I can't pronounce, in Germany. He was driven from his country in consequence of his having taken a popular part in the late struggle for liberty ; but he hopes some day to be restored to them. His right name —(he has written it down in pencil for me so that I may spell it correctly,) is Ludwig Von Kemper- blossen, and he is a Count. In that case, dear papa and mamma, j'^our erring child is a Countess, Only think of that! S." Mr. Mordant stormed and raged furiously ; he even ventured so far as to break out into several oaths, that terrified his wife and daughter — and blamed the former for bringing the German swindler into the house. Poor Mrs, Mordant began to weep as TltE CABTK boy's story. 237 freely as her daughter, and the merchant, "with the crumpled note in his hand — rushed from the room, and groin g up stairs to his library again — locked himself in and flung himself down on the sofa — where he remained throughout the night. The mother and daughter, after weeping their fill, retired to their bed- rooms ; but not much sleep visited the eyelids of the Mordant family that night. CHAPTER XIX. Which treats of Strange Matters. In a former chapter we stated that the U. S. ship G , had put into Sierra Leone after having cruised for some time up and down the coast with- out having been fortunate enough to meet with any slavers ; and there Miss Herbert was provided with a passage to New Orleans on board an American bark that fortunately happened then to be on the point of sailing. P.oor Charlotte was glad enough at the prospect of reaching America again, after having been tossed about on the coast of Africa, and subjected to the confinement of a ship of war, which although the captain sought to make things as com- fortable to her as possible, was, at the best, no very pleasant abode for a young female who had no com- panions of her own sex on board. Still, she had been treated so kindly, and had met with so much attention, that she could not help feeling sorrowful at the thought of parting; and, perhaps, the future that she had to look forward to was not of the brightest. "VVe might lift the curtain now and dis- close it; but it would be premature, as by so doing we should forestall the events of our story. She had formed an especial friendship for the young mid- shipman, Thomas Miller ; and, although she was not likely to meet with any of his friends, bound, as the vessel in which she was about to sail was, to a Southern port of the Union — the young man had 238 THE CABIN boy's aTORY. obtained a promise from her to be the bccarer of numerous letters, which she was to post in New Orleans, and had also intrusted to her several mes- sages to be delivered personally, should she chance, by any fortune, to be placed in the vicinity of his home. The bark in which Charlotte was to sail had loosened her fore-topsail, and the anchor was nearly apeak ; the boat was along-side ready to carry her on board ; she had bade farewell to the captain and officers, and was preparing to step over the side on the ladder, assisted by one of the lieutenants, when she recollected that she had left a parcel intrusted to her care by young Miller, in the gun-room, and she stepped below to fetch it. The young man was on shore on boat duty, and she had wished him good by an hour before. The parcel she went in search of had been laid by the youngster in his chest, and he had desired her to lift the lid and take possession of it when she was ready to go. It was a packet of letters to his mother and several of his young friends at home ; and on raising the lid of the chest Miss Herbert was surprised to see her ring (as she thought), lying in the till. ** How came this ring here?" she thought aloud. " Ah ! I recollect — I must have dropped it while packing up those papers for Mr. Miller. I took it from my neck, where I usually keep it suspended by a ribbon, with the intention of packing it in my trunk. It is fortunate that I happened to come for this package of letters mjself, or I should have gone away without it," and taking it up she placed it in her pocket, ascended the ladder to the deck, was assisted into the boat along-side, and in a few minutes was on board the bark Susan Shooter — and sailing out of the harbour with a fine fair breeze. The sloop of war Buzzard, which had captured the Dolphin — after she had been disabled by the pam- pero, arxived in Sierra Leone while the G was THE CABIN boy's STOET. 239 lying there, and the two captains met several times together. On one occasion, the commander of the Buzzard recounted to captaiu P , the particulars relative to the capture of the prize. " By-the-by," he continued, after he had told the story, we are close here by the hospital, suppose you step in with me and see the two negro babies, which 1 brought from on board the slaver. They must have been great pets of that atrocious wretch, Junot, for the fellow had them hidden in his own bed in his cabin. They were soundly sleeping, poor little things, when my first lieutenant took possession of the slaver, and he brought them still asleep on board. They soon became great pets with my crew, and were nursed as carefully — until we arrived in port — as ever they could have been by their own mother, poor, un- fortunate creature, who, I fear now is sleeping her last sleep in the depths of the Atlantic; for no doubt, she was one of the miserable victims of the incarnate devil's cruelty. By G — , sir, the man who turned evidence against the scoundrel — it makes my blood boil when I think of it — that man, sir, I un- derstand, proved before the court at St. Helena, that the villain Junot, who murdered in cold blood the whole of the prize crew that had been put on board his infernal craft, actually sunk upwards of two hundred negroes, out of his lee port holes, not an hour before I came alongside of him. Had I known the facts at the time, I hardly think I should have stopped to parley with him. No, sir," and the cap- tain of the sloop-of-war fairly ground his teeth to- gether with passionate indignation. *'No, sir, I should have poured a broadside into him at once, and sent him and his devilish crew to the bottom at once; and, if I should have done wrong, why, sir, the authorities might have made the most of it. However, the villain has met his reward.** ** The scoundrel deserved his fate," said Captain P ; "but come — where are these said negro 240 THE CAB/N boy's STOUY. babies, wlio so singularly escaped the fate of the rest the living cargo ?" *' Come in and see tbeni," answered the captain of the sloop- of- war. Tiiey are in the children's ward. 1 fancy they must be twins ; and they are as pretty, interesting specimens ol' black humanity as can be found, if you were to search the African Continent. They must belong to a superior race to the general- ity of negroes, for they are really handsome little creatures— black as a coal, but with beautifully formed limbs and sleek skins, and they possess the finest and most intelligent eyes I ever saw in the head of a human being." While the captain of the sloop-of-war was still ex- patiating upon the beauty of the children, he and his companion had entered the ward of the hospital, and had approached the cot where the infants lay. Captain P— was himself astonished at their beauty, and could not forbear making remarks upon the subject aloud. He was overheard by one of the directors of the hospital, who happened to be near, and this gentleman joined the two captains. ** Yes," he remarked, " they are very handsome children. It's my . opinion they belong to the lunga Jagos tribe — a race of negroes remarkable for their intelligence and physical perfection. You perceive that although they possess, unmistakeably, the negro contour of features, there is nothing coarse or repulsire about them. The expression is softened down, and, but for their color, they would be con- sidered handsome. Now, I have seen some of the Yunga Jagos women, and they are really beautiful, if one could get over the prejudice of color. There was one here the other day, brought in by one of our cruisers; the poor thing had either sprung overboard or been thrown overboard from a slaver, of which the cruiser was in chase, and the man-of- war picked her up. She was greatly distressed, so we learnt from some of the negroes here, who par* THE CABIN BOY'S STOET. 211 tially understood her language, for the loss of her two children, who had, she said, been shipped on board another vessel. She told about their having been thrown to the lions on her way down from the interior to the slave coast, and subsequently picked up unharmed, for she is certain she heard them cry when she was being taken on board. Now, this may be all fancy, you know, but it is a singular coinci- dence that these two children should bo brou<;ht in from another slaver, only a day or two alter the woman was sent to Free Town. There is something quite romantic about it, and I have sent to the gov- ernor of Free Town, requesting him to send the wo- man back here, in order that she may see the child- ren, and, if they are hers, they will of course be re- stored to her. 1 promise myself quite a tragic scene, I assure you." The two captains left the hospital, and a day or two after the G sailed for the southern coast. While in the Gulf of Guinea, the wind became light and baffling, and the captain found himself driven by the current out of his course, and within a few leagues of the island of Annabon. The idea came into his head to pay the lady of Annabon another visit. CHAPTER XX. The Header is introduced to Zuleika's new home. Two months had passed since we left Zuleika on board her husband's vessel, on the north side of the Island of Annabon, and in a preceding chapter we have mentioned how, in his letter to Mr. Mordant, Seymour stated his intention to resign for a while the command of the Albatross, and go to the Medi- terranean, for what purpose he did not choose to tell. We have mentioned also that Seymour, at an earlier period of his life, had been engaged on board a Greek pirate vessel. In the first instance more SS3 Q 242 THE CAriN boy's STORY. •from necessity than from inclination — and that ho had distinguished himself by bis reckless couraore, and acquired his thorough knowledge of seamanship amongst the Islands of the Grecian Archipelago. At the entrance of the Gulf of Salonica in the ^gean Sea are situated a group of small isbmds, comprising the north-west erinost portion of the Cyclades. Many of these islands are fertile in the extreme, others are comparatively barren, but all are exceedingly picturesque; located in that glorious clime, and on the bosom of that sunny sea, they could scarcely be otherwise. For centuries past the Cyclades have been noted for being the strong- holds of pirates, whose deeds of valor and ferocity have been the theme of many a minstrel's song ; but these strong-holds were generally located amongst the more southerly and larger islands of the Archipelago. On one of these islands — one of the smallest, yet one of the most picturesque of the group— one so small, so insignificant that geogra- phers have not given it a name — Seymour, whose earlier career had rendered him well acquainted with the tortuous windings and intricate channels of this beautiful yet treacherous sea, had fixed the abode of his fair bride, and scorning the uncouth name given to the islet by the Greek fishermen, he called it *' Zuleika's Isle." He had sailed from St. Louis on the African coast, as he had intimated to Mr. Mordant, to Marseilles; thence, still taking Jane Miller, as Zuleika's companion, he had taken passage to Mileto, where he had purchased a Greek felucca, and having stored it with everything he thought immediately necessary or desirable for the comfort or gratification of Zuleika, he had engaged a crew of Greek sailors, and himself taking the command of the little craft, had steered his way amongst the Cyclades until he had reached this island, which, from its position, its fertility, and its picturesque tH£ CA5IN boy's STOItt, 243 beauty, he had chosen for the new abode of his bride. Seymour had a sufficiency of money at his com- mand. Durin}? his successful career in the slave trade, he had bad abundant opportunity to amass wealth, and reckless as he appeared, he had ever cherished a hope that one day— and that day, at least, before the noontide of manhood had passed away— he mij^ht be enabled to retire from the sea, and perchance, reform his life, and spend his later years happily in the society of his beloved Zuleika; consequently he readily obtained control over the rude and simple people amonp^st whom he was about to locate himself; and before he had been many days upon the island, he was looked upon by the few fishermen and their families as its lord and master. At the door of a small cottage— which, although originally built in the rude style of the huts on the island, had, in the course of a few weeks, been so much improved and beautified under the direction of Seymour, as to render it not only a comfortable, but, in comparison with the other habitations of the island, a luxurious abode — one evening, about a month after they had landed and taken possession, sat Seymour and Zuleika, beneath a rustic porch tresselled with grape vines and honey-suckles ; be- fore them, at the distance of a few hundred yards was the sea, and a short distance from the shore lay the felucca that had been purchased to bring them to the island, and which was still retained by Sey- mour, who had frequently made excursions amongst the " Thousand Islands," with Zuleika and Jane Miller, since they had taken up their abode in this spot. The crew of the felucca, who chose to live on board, were singing a Greek chorus, and the melody of their voices— so pure was the air — was distinctly heard where Seymour and his wife were futting. 244 THE CABTX boy's STORY. "And how do you like this our new ahode, my Zuleika?" he asked, drawing the girl closer to him by the hand he had hitherto held clasped in his own, and passing his left arm around her slender form. " How can I do otherwise than like it, George?" she replied, "am not I a Greek girl? I know not how it is ; perhaps it is mere instinct — the eflfect of my breathing again my native air— but since I have been here, I have been happier than I ever was be- fore. I like the savage beauty of this scenery — better, far better than the gorgeous scenery of Annabon. And then, George, you are here with me, and have staid longer with me, than you have ever done before at any one time. Perhaps it is that which makes me so lightsome and joyous." An expression of pain shot across the features of Seymour, but he made no reply, and Zuleika, after sitting some moments silent, continued — " How beautiful is night upon the sea-shore I Does not the vista before us look like a scene of enchantment? Let us walk down to the beach, George, and join Harry, there. I think 1 like our night rambles best, and yet all seasons are beautiful as they come. I will tell you a secret, George. I have written a song in Spanish ard tuned it to the accompaniment of the guitar, and to-night when we return I will sing it to you." " So you are a poetess ?" said Seymour, smiling • fondly upon the young girl as he rose from his seat to accompany her to the beach. CHAPTER XXI. The Meeting with Marca— The Ancient Sibyl ol the Archipelago, and her Daughter Zoe. The day of Seymour's departure was rapidly draw- ing near. The felucca had been got in readiness for a sea voyage, and it was Seymour's intention to THE CABIN boy's STORY. 245 proceed to Valetta, in the Island of Malta, and then to discharge his Greek crew, and after disposing^ of the felucca, to take passage to the South of France (Toulon or Marseilles) and thence to proceed to New York and ascertain from Mr. Mordant how matters had prospered with regard to the Albatross during his temporary secession from the command of that vessel. He and his bride and Jane Miller often cruised around in the felucca amongst the islands in the vicinity of Zuleika's Isle, and occasionally he took a trip alone to some one of the larger islands for the purpose of procuring such articles as he required for the promotion of Zuleika's comfort and con- venience during his absence, and which could not be readily obtained on the islet which he had chosen for her abode. A week had passed away during that time the old woman alluded to in a preceding chap- ter had not been seen, and she had been forgotten by both Seymour and his bride. One day, however, Zuleika rushed into the cottage from the garden, alarm depicted in her countenace. On being asked by Seymour what had occasioned her fright, she said that she had again seen the dreaded and myS' terioua woman cautiously watching her from a covert of trees in the rear of the garden. " By heaven I" exclaimed Se^-mour, " this is un- endurable ; I will see to it immediately, love, and cause a stop to be put to this annoyance; although, after all, I imagine, as I have said before, she is some poor foolish creature who is an object of pity rather than fear." He walked down that day to the little hamlet in- habited by the fishermen who made the island their abode — the only hamlet the island contained — and made inquiry regarding the woman. " She comes from Lemnos, Excellenza," said one of the fishermen, in one of the boats that occasion* ally visit this island, to dispose of mats and such 246 THE CABIN DOy'9 STOEY. like trifles. She came here yesterday, and departed in the same boat scarcely two hours since. Poor thins: I she is mad, Excellenza, the evil eye is upon her.*' *'Do you know any harm of her — is she hated or feared by the people here?" " Hated ! no, Excellenza : but she is pitied by some and feared by others ; but there is no harm in her, I believe. There are strange tales abroad with re- gard to her. It is said she once knew better days. Excellenza, she has the gift of prophecy.** Seymour said no more, but determined to go to Lemnos and find out the woman, if possible, and prevent any future annoyance to Zuleika. He walk- ed along the shore until he reached the spot where the felucca lay at anchor, and stepping into the cob- ble boat, he paddled on board, and ordered the lateen sail to be hoisted and the anchor weighed, and in a few minutes the little vessel was under headway for the island of Lemnos, which was just visible in the distance. He had learnt from the fishermen that the old woman was called Marca, and that she had suffered from reverses of fortune to such a degree that her reason had become impaired. Tradition said her ancestors lorded it with sovereign rule over the larger and more fertile islands of the Cyclades, and that she herself had been the bride of a great freebooter chieftain. In the course of an hour the felucca's anchor was dropped off the small harbor of LemnOvS, and Seymour went ashore, resolved, if pos- sible, to discover the abode and seek an interview with Marca. He learnt, by making inquiry of the inhabitants of the island, that the object of his search resided in solitary seclusion in a wretched hut deeply em- bosomed in a dark wood a short distance from the sea-side. But, Excellenza," asked his informant, "what would you seek from the dark woman of Lemnos ? fHE CABIN boy's story. 247 Marca hath an evil eye, and a tongue prone to pro- phesy terrible things. Beware, Exceiienza, beware." • *' Egou sas euxagistou (1 thank you) for the warning," replied Seymour, who had addressed the man in the Komaic dialect — the vernacular of the islands; but, ray friend, I fear her not; neverthe- less, I thank you." The fisherman inclined his head and placed his hand upon his breast. Excellenza," said he' Me kanetee megalen thnen" (you do me too much honor) . Following the path which he had been told would carry him to the hut of Marca, Seymour found him- self in the course of a few minutes deep in the bosom of the wood, and, about half a mile from the entrance, he discovered by the smoke that issued from a spot where the trees grew thicker than common, that he was in the vicinity of the abode he sought. He ap- proached the spot cautiously — he did not wish to alarm the old woman, and besides, he felt a strange sensation creeping over him that could not actually be described as fear, and which was yet near akin to it. Brave as a lion where danger was openly present, Seymour was still, like most imaginative persons, a little given to superstition, and the strange character he had heard of the old woman, and her singular desire to haunt the abode of his bride when he was absent, troubled him ; and now the dark, solitary, savage aspect of Marca's hut, so embedded amidst the thickest foliage of the wood that the cheering light of the sun's rays was almost shut out, and the glare of a charcoal lire that was burning in front of the hut, and tinting the confined landscape with its lurid hues, presented a scene eminently calculated to awaken any latent feelings of superstition he possessed. In front of the lire Marca herself was seated, with her back turned towards the intruder upon her savage solitude. She was attired in a loose wrapper of scarlet color, and of coarse material, and on her head she wore a conical woollen cap^ 248 THE CABIN UOY'S STORY. from which her elfin locks escaped in long tangled ringlets, and although her appearance generally betokened extreme age, these tangled eltin locks were still untouched by the hand of time, and streamed down over her scarlet wrapper in vivid contrast with its bright color. Sho was busily occupied in weaving rushes together, and at the same time superintending some culinary operation that was going forward, in an earthen pipkin, raised upon a tripod over the fire, and from the closed lid of which tbe steam was rapidly escaping; at the back of the fire a large piece of half charred wood was sending forth columns of suffocating smoke, and this smoke it was which had first warned Sey- mour of his proximity to the hut of the Sibyl. Marca neither saw nor heard the approach of her visitor, or at least she showed no sign of having done so, for Seymour approached close to her, and watched the rapid movements of her skinny fingers, as she pursued her avocation, chanting, as she did so, some rude Romaic rhyme, but she neither turned nor spoke to him. Seymour cleared his throat, and coughed, and stamped his foot upon the earth, in hopes of attract- ing her attention. Still she neither spoke nor heeded him. At length he addressed her with the usual Romaic salutation : ^^Na ze — na ze (long life), good Marca.** " Ti opisete kur ?" (What is your pleasure, signor?) she replied, still without turning her head. ** I have sought the aged Marca,*' answered Sey- mour, *' to ask if she needs the assistance of a wealthy stranger ; I come from yonder small island,** point- ing his finger in the direction of Zuleika*s Isle, although the old woman was not looking at him. have seen Marca there, seeking to sell her wares. Such toil is unfitted for one of her years \ I would render her position easy— say, Marca, how can I assist you ?*' THE CABIN boy's STORY. 249 " Signor, you speak with a false tongue,** replied the aged female, "that is not the object of your journey hither ; I knew you would come ; I have waited many years for the appearance of you and your young bride. Last night, when the stars be- tokened that it was the hour of midnight, I had a vision, and I knew then you would come here to seek me to-day in my hut. It was for that reason I hastened home so soon from the island on which you have fixed your bride's abode. But, signor, strive not to deceive one who has dealings with those wiser and more powerful than you, and who can penetrate into the secret mysteries of the human soul. You came not to do me service, but because you feared harm from me towards your dainty bride. Is it not so?" she added, with startling energy, springing at the same moment to her feet, her tall wiry frame stretched to its full height, and for the first time confronting her visitor. ** Is it not 80, 1 ask?" " And if it is," replied Seymour, who was startled by the woman's strange energy. But she did not immediately reply. She scruti- nized her visitor's appearance from head to foot, mutterino^ to herself in a soliloquising manner, as though she were alone, and unheard by any human being. "Fair to look upon; goodly in stature, tall and straight as the cedar; but though fair without, blighted at the core by the canker-worm of remorse. Your hand, signor. I would read your destiny more narrowly than the stars allow me," she added aloud in the startling energetic tone she had before spoken, as she took the visitor's hand in her skinny fingers and intently scanned the lines upon the palm. Then letting it drop, she muttered to herself in a dialect unknown to Seymour, and stood gazing^ vacantly before her, apparently heedloM of his presence. 250 THE CAlJlJi box's SXOKl. Seymour felt his flesh creep as Lnj i,Mzed upon her ; and fearful that he would lose command of himself if he gave way to the feelings of superstition that were growing upon him, he resolved again to address her. He repeated his question : "What if I have come hither for the purpose of which you spake ?** said he. ** Nothing but this," answered the old woman, whom the sound of her visitor's voice seemed to have aroused from her reverie— nothing but this, that your visit has been made in vain. I seek not to injure the harmless dove whom the falcon has enticed to his nest. Fear no harm to your bride through me; but know this, that were I inclined to do her evil not all your power could prevent me. Man, you are doomed. You stand on the verge of a precipice, and one false step will imperil your life. You should live long on earth, signer, for — ** and she approached her lips close to Seymour's ear, and hastily whispered, **you know that hell is an eternity of anguish and horror. Go," she continued aloud, " go home to your bride. You are about to leave her ; fear not that harm will happen to her while you are absent. There are those watching over her more powerful than you to protect her from evil ; once again you will revisit her, and then — but the fates forbid me to say what then — my tongue is tied. Go, signer, go ; your bride awaits you at your cottage. Leave Marca to her solitude, and fear not for Bedita." JBedita ! the name sounded familiarly to the ears of Seymour. Suddenly the thought flashed through his mind, " Bedita was the name that the woman of whom I purchased Zuleika gave to her— and she was called Zoe— can this be she? No, impossible. Zoe was at that time a young woman herself, and that was but ten or twelve years ago, while this woman, Marca, must have numbered seventy years at least ; besides Zoe was handsome — a model of savage beauty — yet I will know more.*' THE CABIN boy's STORY. 251 The superstitious fears that had, during^ the in- terview with Marca, held him in thraldom, vanish- ed, now that the reaction had taken place. He re- solved, at all hazards, to satisfy himself with regard to this fresh doubt that had arisen in his mind, and he entered the hut into which Marca had entered, after she bade him return to his bride. But it was untenanted. It consisted of one simple room, almost destitute of furniture, save a rude couch, and a piece of hewn timber which served for a chair. He rushed again into the open air ; he sought the covert of the woods, but in vain; Marca was not to be found; and after spending half an hour in vain search, he returned to the boat, and going on board the felucca, returned to Zuleika's Isle. He met Zuleika and Jane Miller on the beach; they had seen the approach of the felucca, and had come to meet him. ** Whither have you been this morning, wander- er ?" playfully asked Zuleika. "To Lemnos, darling/' replied Seymour. **I have been to see that old woman who has two or three times terrified you so much. It is as I said ; she is a poor, simple, imbecile creature ; you must not be 60 silly as to be alarmed when she comes here." " I dare say it is mere folly on my part," returned Zuleika; "I shall not be frightened of her in fu- ture." SejTuour's mind misgave him while he spoke. Yet he had the ancient sibyl's pledge that she in- tended no harm to his bride, and he was sufficiently superstitious to believe that a pledge thus given by a woman such as she, would be scrupulously ob- served. " But I have strange news to tell," said Zuleika. " While you have been absent, a party of fishermen and women landed from a boat from one of the islands near here, and amongst them there was a 252 THE CABIN boy's STORY. tall, liandsome woman, who regarded mo veiy earnestly. Her black eyes looked as though they would pierce me through, so intense was their gaze. I thought I had seen her face before ; even her tall, upright form seemed familiar to me. Yet, where I had seen her, I could not tell. Strange recollec- tions— events that I have long forgotten, or only re- membered as though they had passed before me in a dream, appeared to revive — and then the thought passed through my mind that this strange woman was Zoe — the woman who, when a child, I believed to have been my mother. I had no reason to love her; but I felt as though I must rush into her arms, and beg her to disclose the mystery that surrounds my birth ; but she had mingled with the crowd, and I did not see her again." " Mere fancy, darling," said Seymour; but he did not feel satisfied with what he had heard. It seem- ed as if some mysterious fate were gathering its folds around him, and he felt a strange fear that he should find himself irretrievably entangled in its meshes. He strove, however, to shake off the alarm he really'felt, and resolved to hasten his departure from the island, determined that this should be the last time that he would leave Zuleika behind him. Nay, he resolved in his own mind to make this his last voyage, and on his return to renounce his wandering life, and, with the wealth he had amass- ed, to live happily and peacefully on shore. His arrangements were completed in the course of a few days more ; and now the day arrived for his departure. He and Zuleika were taking their last morning walk along the sea shore. " How long will you be absent, George ?" asked Zuleika. " Perhaps four or five months, dear," replied Seymour. " It grieves me that you should be obliged to leave me now, for you know, George, what will, in THE CABIN BOY'S STOET. 253 all probability, occur before you come back," and the fair girl blushed as she spoke. ** I guess what you allude to, darling," answered Seymour. " I shall have a pledge of our mutual love, a bouncing boy or perhaps a miniature copy of your o^Ti dear self, to welcome on my return," and ne stooped his head and kissed the blushing girl. " Well," he added, ** if it be a boy I suppose I must leave his name to your choice; but, if it be a girl, darling, you must call her Zuleika. Keep up your spirits, dear. Julia M'ill be a faithful attendant, and when I return, recollect, we shall not part again while we live. We shall be very happy, Zuleika." *' I hope so, George. I shall always be happy in the knowledge of your love." This last remark was uttered by Zuleika in a tone of hopeful anticipation, and yet there was a tremor in her voice, and an expression of anxiety in her countenance strangely at variance with her usual light and joyous mood. It was noticed by Sey- mour. "You are melancholy, darling," he said, "you must not take my present parting so much to heart, you must shake oflf these low spirits, and strive to be cheerful. Think how soon five months will pass away, and think of our happy re-union then." " I will try to do so, George ; still I wish that you were not going to leave me now." They returned to the cottage, and the remainder of the day was spent in making such arrangements as Seymour thouiiht would be necessary during his absence, for the comfort of his wife. On the following morning he took a tender fare- well of Zuleika ; told Harry to be a cheerful com- panion to her, and promised her attendant— the old negro woman from Annabon, who was devotedly at- tached to her mistress— that he would abundantly reward her on his return, if she served Zuleika well and faithfully; and then stepping into the boat, 264 THE CIBTN BOt'S STOET. that was to convey him to the felucca, he sooTi reached the little craft ; her lateen sails were loosed to the hreeze, the anchor weighed, and Seymour standing on the raised quarter deck, waved bis cap as a parting salute. Zuleika was weeping on the shore, and Jane Miller was standing by ber side endeavoring to cheer and comfort her with words of happy anticipation. A crowd of fishermen and women had assembled to see the felucca get under weigh. AVas it fancy, or was it indeed the tali, slender form of the ancient sibyl, Marca, who stood conspicuous amongst the crowd of women, and raised her hand and pointed her long skinny fingers toward the felucca, whether in menace or in warning ; Seymour was unable to tell; but again his superstitious fears came over him, and he turned avs'ay his head, and, in a hurried voice, gave some orders to the Greek seamen. CHAPTER XXII. The Ectum of Charlotte Herbert, and her Introduction iuto Mr. Wilson's Family— What arises therefrom. Chaklotte Herbert arrived safely in New Or- leans, after a prosperous voyage across the Atlantic from Sierra Leone. She scarcely knew what her intentions were when she landed on the levee. She had no money in her possession beyond a small sum which Captain P , aware that having been sav- ed from shipwreck, she must necessarily be in a destitute condition, had delicately placed at her disposal, when he bade her farewell at Sierra Leone. Charlotte had friends in the United States, it is true, but she was distant from them, and she did not wish to make herself known to them. She almost hoped that they thought her dead, and had long since forgotten her. She was, however, a well educated young woman, of interesting personal ap- pearance, and she, fortunately, soon after her arri- THE CABIN boy's STOET. 255 val, read in the Ficayune^ an advertisement asking for the services of a young lady to occupy the post of governess in the family of a gentleman who held the position of guardian to two of his brother's children — two girls, aged, respectively twelve and sixteen years. Happily for her, her manners and appearance enabled her to obtain the situation, without any other than verbal inquiry beinjr made as to her ability and the respectability of her family, and she entered upon her duties still preserving her incognita. The Misses Wilson, the two young ladies who were placed under her charge,* were amiable and beautiful girls; but, although they were sisters, they did not bear the slightest resem- blance to each other. Marie, the elder, was a tall, pale, dark-haired, black-eyed, girl, possessed of fea- tures of a classical regularity, and with a sweet and gentle expression of countenance, although, when at rest, a tinge of melancholy seemed habitually to overshadow it. She moved with the grace of a queen; and although she was naturally reserved and shrunk from observation, her beauty drew around her a host of admirers, to none of whom she appeared to show any marked preference. The beauty of Louise, the younger sister, was a perfect antithesis to that of Marie. She was small of her age, joyous in temperament, impulsive, and quick to take affront, but as quickly appeased, and slight and agile as a fairy. Her complexion was delicately fair, her hair light auburn, her eyes blue, and the ruddy flush of health and spirits was called to her cheeks by every passing emotion. Mr. "Wilson, the uncle of the girls, was a planter of considerable wealth. He was, however, a man of cold, calculat- ing disposition; and although he fulfilled to the letter that which he considered to be his duty to- wards his fair wards, he seldom mingled in their amusements, or seemed to take any interest in their studies, beyond asking their young governess, at stated seasons, how they got along* 256 THE CABIN boy's STORY. Miss Herbert was not long in perceiving that some deep-seated sorrow was preying on the mind of the elder of her pupils. Two or three times, entering suddenly and unexpectedly into her apartment, she had found her in tears, which she in vain sought to hide, or even to restrain ; but, although the young girl was evidently fond of her, she never would ex- plain the cause of these tears, and firmly resisted 3very effort made by Miss Herbert to induce her to confide to her the cause of her distress. A month or two passed away, however, and although Miss Herbert herself was often the sub- ject of melancholy reflections, the cause of which the reader may have surmised, she was as happy and comfortable in her situation as she could well expect to be. On her arrival at New Orleans she had placed in the post-office the letters and parcels entrusted to her charge by young Miller; and Mrs. Miller had in due time received the letters. About the same time, however, she received a letter from her boy, direct from Sierra Leone, in which he alluded to the singu- lar story of the White Lady of Annabon, and related to his mother the history of the letter and tho ring, asserting boldly that he was confident that the ring she had worn on her finger on the day he left home, and which she prized so highly in consequence of its being, as she supposed, a memento of her lost daughter, had been in his possession for several weeks, and had disappeared even more strangely than it had come into his possession. He concluded by asking his mother, seriously, whether, during the period he had been absent, she had at any time missed the ring. The worthy widow knew not what to make of this epistle. The ring he spoke of she had constantly worn ; never for a single moment had it been absent from the finger, even while she was sleeping ; be- fiif^ the idea was preposterous. Tho poor woman THE CABIN UOYVs STORY. 257 became alarmed. She had heard of the deleterious effects of the African climate, and she naturally enough came to the conclusion that the boy must be suffering under some derangement of the brain, and that the whole story he told was a mental delusion. She showed the letter to Mr. Mordant, who told her that he had heard of the island recluse from his nephew, and that as he was about writing to Sierra Leone himself, if she would leave the letter for him to read, he would make such inquiries of his agent as should induce him to see the boy, if the ship still re- mained in the harbor, or should again visit that part of the coast. He agreed with her that the boy must be laboring under some extraordinary delusion. ** But," he added, "my dear Mrs. Miller, some strange mania appears to have seized all my correspondents there just now. I have just heard from one of my sea-captains, who has taken some mad freak into his head, and gone I know not whither, leaving the vessel to shift for itself. (The widow had called at Mr. Mordant's oflBce in town on the day he had received Captain Seymour's letter, announcing his intention to quit the Albatross for a time, and on the very day the evening of which had been pro- ductive — as the reader is aware — of such a compli- cation of annoyances.) The letter was left at the office, and having been mislaid by Mr. Mordant, was found and perused by his son, and subsequently became the occasion of some singular misadventures. This, however, was not the only difficulty that arose out of the abstraction of the ring from young Miller's chest, by Miss Herbert, under the impres- sion that it was her own. She had frequently worn it during the voyage home, though she had reasons for not doing so on board the man-of-war, and had never thought of looking into the little drawer in her trunk where her own ring had been placed, until some time after her arrival at New Orleans, when she came upon it accidentally, and was per- 383 R 258 THE C vRIN 15UY's STOUT. tectly bewildered with amazement on finding herself in possession of two rings exactly /ac similes of each other. She puzzled her brains for some time, en- deavoring to account for the strange discovery, but failing to do so, she carefully laid one of the rings aside, trusting that time would explain the apparent mystery* We will now return to Mr. Wilson and his two nieces. About two months after the first connection of Miss Herbert with the family, she was sent for into Mr. Wilson's study. *' I have sent for you, Miss Herbert," said he, after he had invited her to be seated, ** to inform you that my elder niece, Miss Marie, will soon be released from your charge. She is shortly to be married to a young gentleman of good family and excellent expectations, in New York. I am well satisfied with your conduct siDce you have been in the family, and you will continue to superiDtend the education of of my youngest niece at the same salary that I have hitherto paid you. I wish you, however, to see Miss Marie, and to reason with her upon her folly in objecting to the marriage I propose for her. She knows that my heart is set upon it, and it is her duti/ to obey me, and her interest as well." He pronounced the two words duty and interest, so em- phatically, that Miss Herbert could not help no- ticing it; but knowing the planter's stern nature, she thought less of it than she might otherwise have done. She replied : " I will see her as you desire, sir ; I have been pained to notice the mental anxiety under which your elder ward appears to labor. She has never confided the cause of it to me ; but I presume, that what you have just related to me will explain it.** " Perhaps it will, Miss Herbert. At all events, see Marie, and endeavor to reason her into a proper frame of mind, and warn her, from me, to bewaro THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. 259 how shft risks the utter ruin of all her future prospects in life." Miss Herbert quitted the presence of her imperious employer, and immediately sought the chamber of her pupil. She had not expressed her sentiments in the presence of Mr. Wilson, but she sincerely pitied the girl, and she resolved, if matters were as she suspected, that her influence should not be exerted to secure her pupil's life- long wretchedness — for life-long wretchedness would result from a forced union on the part of Marie with a man whom she did not love, whom she perhaps hated and despised. Marie Wilson was sitting in her room by the open window, disconsolately reading a note that her guardian had just sent her. She started and thrust it in her bosom when Miss Herbert entered. I am sent here, my dear Marie, by your uncle and guardian, Mr, Wilson. He has told me of his intentions regarding you, and has desired me to ex- press to you my opinion that it is your duty not to oppose his wishes ; far be it from me, however, to advise you to adopt a course which must result in your lasting unhappiness. I suspect that the intel- ligence I have just heard has been the cause of the despondency which I have so frequently observed you to be afflicted with, though you have never made me your confidant. Is it so ? Is this mar- riage upon which your uncle seems so determined, so distasteful to you ? If so, I counsel you to refuse to obey him in this respect, or at least to temporize with him. In a few years more you will be of age, and free from his guardianship — I believe you have property in your own right— and then you can please yourself as regards one of the most important actions of woman's life." The tears were falling fast from the eyes of Mario ere Miss Herbert had done speaking. As soon aa she could control her emotion, she said : It ii as you suspected, Miss Herbert. Hitherto 560 THE CA3J1N boy's StOKT. I have kept the secret of my grief locked up in my own bosom. It is now twelve months since I first met the man who desires to marry me, and who has gained over Mr. Wilson to advocate his cause— nay, more — to insist upon this sacrifice on my part. He was then on a visit to New Orleans, and although I do not know the particulars of the case, I believe that Mr. Wilson is involved in debt to his father who is a merchant of great wealth in New York. He sought my hand then, and was by me refused, for liis character was bad ; I heard sad stories respect- ing him, besides, I cannot give my hand without my heart goes with it. But he was not to be thus repulsed. He sought Mr. Wilson and asked him to give him my hand in man-iage. I believe some in- I'.imous covenant was entered into between them; but though I suspect, I do not entirely know its nature. It is enough that I must obey — must marry a man I cannot love — must break my plighted word to another — or — 1 shudder to contemplate my pro- bable fate." Again the unhappy girl burst into a paroxysm of grief. My dear Marie," said Miss Herbert, endeavor- ing to console the weeping girl, "your guardian cannot compel you to this marriage. You overrate the power his trust reposes in him. You can do as I advise you ; plead your youth, refuse to marry at present, and when you become of age please yourself as to your choice of a husband." " Alas I Miss Herbert, you know not all my sad history. You know not the humiliation to which I am exposed. You think me the niece of Mr. Wilson and the sister of Louise ; so in one sense I am ; but the mother of Louise was not my mother. I am the daughter — why should I blush to own it — I am the daughter of a favorite quadroon slave who belonged to Mr. Wilson's wife, and who died shortly after her mistress. It is only since 1 have been urged to marry Charles Mordant that I have been told this— THE CABIN boy's STORY. 261 I am the property, body and soul, of my guardian, as the world believes him to be, so at least he says ; and he threatens — yes, even in this letter he has sent me to-day, which I was reading when you en- tered — he threatens, unless I consent immediately to follow his wishes, to declare my parentage to the world, and to dispose of me as his slave — so he has the cruelty to tell me— to the highest bidder. Oh ! God, to what a state of wretchedness am I reduced." At the name of Charles Mordant, Miss Herbert had started and turned pale. For some time she could not trust herself to speak ; but with a violent effort she subdued her emotion, and said in a husky voice .which, had Marie not been suffering " woes all her own," she must have noticed. " But when Mr. Wilson's brother, your father, died, did he not leave you any property ? Are you s:ure he did not during his life- time purchase your freedom P" "I know not. He died suddenly. He was as fond of me as he was of my sister Louise, the daugh- ter of his wife whom he married, I am told, about a year after I was born. Louise's mother, whom I always supposed to be my mother likewise, treated me as though I were her own daughter; and we were led to suppose by our father, I and Louise, that his large property was to be divided between us in equal portions. Now, my uncle tells me my lather left no will, and Louise is his only heiress, and that I am subject entirely to his will and plea- sure. He says if I consent to marry Charles Mor- dant, I shall have my share ; otherwise , 1 cannot say what he threatened me with otherwise. It is too dreadful a fate." Poor child," said Miss Herbert, " I could not have thought such iniquity existed on this earth ; but, Marie, I can save you from this dreadful fate — at least from marriage with Charles Mordant. 18 my husband! He gained my affections whexi ^^ 262 THE CABIN BOY'S STOUT. artless, unsuspecting girl. Not long a^;o," ^he add- ed, smiling mournfully — " but it appears to me that I have grown prematurely aged — he gained his ends by going through the ceremony of what he thought was a false marriage. I some time afterwards, when he taunted me with it, thought so too, and was almost driven to insanity. I fled to New Orleans, and after subsisting on the sale of my jewels for some time, I engaged as stewardess, heedless almost what became of me, on board a vessel bound to Liver- pool ; the vessel was wrecked, but my life was saved. However, that is nothing to the purpose now. After my return to New Orleans, and not more than a month ago, I met the man who had played m© false, pretending to have been a Baptist clergyman. I recognized, and would have avoided him. He was accompanied by another person, whom I also recog- nized as having been present at the ceremony. They ^topped me. It was in a lonely place, and I could not escape them ; but they told me they wished me no harm; on the contrary, what they had to say would be to my benefit. I was compelled to listen. Then they told me that Mr. Mordant had persuaded a young man, not the one who married us, but he who was present with him, to personate a clergyman on the occasion of what 1 thought was to be our wedding, and thus cruelly to deceive me; but, though a pretended friend, this man was a secret enemy of Charles, who had treated him with con- tempt and scorn in the presence of some of his aristocratic companions. He therefore sought re- venge by procuring the assistance of another per. son — a magistrate, though I fear me he was an un- worthy one, to sign the contract ; and on the evening when the disgraceful and cruel trick was to be played, Charles's friend pretended sickness, and the entire ceremony was performed by the other; since then the breach between these two men and Charles Morcl$int has widened. They would now willingly THE CABIN boy's STOKY. 263 do anything to injure his future prospects, and they wished me to unite with them in exposing him. I refused. I scarcely knew what to do or how to act. But I am now decided. Dear Marie, my name is not Charlotte Herbert, but Jeanette Dixon, and Mr. Wilson cannot force this hateful marriage upon you — for, as I said before, Charles Mordant is my iiusband ; and, thank God ! when I was cast adrift upon the ocean, the written contract which proves my marriage, was saved ; I kept it in a purse which I wore suspended from my neck. It was damaged by the water, but it is still legible." She drew a purse from her pocket, and took thence a torn and stained paper — almost rotten, and ready to fall into fragments ; but the marriage con- tract of Charles Mordant and Jeanette Dixon, legally attested and signed by a magistrate, in the presence of witnesses, was distinctly legible. "Thank God I I am saved," exclaimed Marie, throwing her arms around Jeanette Dixon's neck. CHAPTER XXIII. Captain James is Rewarded for his Kindness to the Yunga Jagos Negress. A WEEK or two after the conversation recorded in a preceding chapter, that had taken place between the directing physician of the hospital and the cap- tains of the Buzzard and the G , these three gentlemen were seated at dinner at the officers' mess- room table in the Sierra Leone barracks. Both the sailors were to take their departure on the following day, and they had been invited to a farewell dinner with the officers of the garrison. ** By -the-by, Peterson," said Captain James, of the Buzzard, "you were relating to me and my friend. Captain P , a rather romantic story, in connection with the two negro babies we went to B^e in the nurse's ward m the hospital. Was U 264 THE CABIN boy's STORY. merely a creation of your own imgination, or was the scene you anticipated realized ?'* " Realized to the letter, my dear fellow/* replied the doctor. As 1 told you, I sent for the woman, and she proved to be the mother of the two children. It does a man good, occasionally, to witness a sceno such as that which occurred at the hospital on the day the woman was brought in. She did not know why she was brought back, and was a little fright- ened, poor thing ; but I had her led into the ward where the children were sleeping. I never saw such little devils as they are for sleeping in my life — no wonder they get so fat. However, when she came in, led by one of the matrons, looking about her with a wild stare, as if she was watching an opportunity to cut and run from the custody of the nurse, I pinched one of the young ones in the ear, and of course the little d— 1 set up a squall. That was what I wanted. I told you, you recollect, that it was said the mother of the children had recognized the wail of her infants while they were being con- veyed on board the slaver, whence you took them — and I had a mind to see whether the cry of these in- fants would have the same effect with this Yunga Jagos woman. By George ! sir, you should have seen her when she heard the squall. She stood still as a statue — her head inclining a little to one side, and the forefinger of her right hand raised in an attitude of earnest attention. I pinched the ear of the other infant, and they set up a most unmelodious duet. But the negro 'A ench heard whence the sound proceeded. In a moment she was by the side of the crib, and in another moment the two «hildren were in her arms, squalling like young porkers, though their cries were stilled by the smothering caresses of the mother, who was perfectly frantic with joy. She skipped and danced about the room, still holding the children in her arms, tightly clasped to her bosom, until I thought she would go crazy. Suddenly she THE CABIN boy's STORY. 265 sprang to the crib, laid the children down, and then rushing to me, flung herself at my feet, and clinging to my legs, showed the most unequivocal and affect- ing signs of gratitude. Then she sprang up, and I verily believe was about to caress me after the samo fashion as she had caressed the children. But X bolted. I by no means wished to experience a pub- lic embrace from a negress, though she is deuced good looking ; besides, I was a little affected myself. I will own up to it. But, Captain James; I had almost forgotten to say that I disclaimed the plea- sure of having been the occasion of the restoration of her children, and with some diflficulty made her understand that a stranger (meaning you) was the person to whom her gratitude was due, and promised to introduce her to you. It is well thought of, Sambo," turning to a negro attendant, tell Juba that I want her. I have called her Juba, Captain," again addressing the sea oflScer, " and intended to keep her in my family for the present. But what ails you?" Captain James had turned pale and risen from his chair. "I feel strangely unwell," he said; **a sensation of sickness has come over me, all in a mo- ment, such as I never experienced before." He did not trust himself to say more, but hastily quitted the room — the party assembled looked gravely and knowingly around the table at each other. *' A decided case of Yellow Jack," said a young ensign, at the lower end of the table. " Captain James is booked, and there's a chance for young Stringer, bis first lieutenant, to get an acting ap- pointment to carry the ship home. Stringer's in luck. He was only telling me yesterday that ho hoped to obtain a commander's commission when he got home. I fancy he'll earn the silver anchor to his epaulettes sooner than he anticipated." This thoughtless, unfeeling speech was little heeded by the rest of the party. Doctor Peterson 266 THE CABIK BOir?S STORY. and CaptT?iii P followed the captain of the Buz- zard out of the mess-room, and in a few minutes the joke and the jest, and the wine bottle, passed around amongst the other guests as if nothing of so serioufi a character had occurred to mar their festivity. Ere two hours had elapsed, Captain James lay in a cot in one of the wards of the hospital, delirious with fever. His disease was the most virulent de- scription of the fatal yellow fever— and Doctor Peterson had given up all hope of his ultimate recovery ; for in this climate the disease speeds its course with a rapidity elsewhere unknown, and a few hours* space often sees the victim — in the appa- rent possession of perfect health — a fevered maniac and a cold and repulsive corpse. A few hours more, and he is consigned to the grave. But Juba— as Dr. Peterson had termed her — ^had hastily and gladly responded to the summons that called her to see the rescuer of her offspring. She came, to find him gone, from the festive board to the sick couch — a victim to the dreadful and fatal dis- ease of the climate. She asked to see him, but was denied. Dr. Peterson would admit no one but the nurses to the sick chamber. The l^unga Jagos woman was not to be discouraged, not to be re- pulsed. She asked to see the doctor, and, as well as she was able, in her imperfect English, she con- jured him to admit her to the bedside of the fever- stricken victim. She could save him, she said; and so urgent was her appeal, so apparently confi- dent her assertion, that the physician at length yielded to her importunities. He promised her that she should be admitted, though he had little or no faith in the expressed confidence of her curative powers. To his astonishment, as soon as she had obtained the required permission, she darted out from the room and sped rapidly away to a dense copse, which lay fit about a quarter pf a mile distant from the hospital, THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. 267 on the inland declivity of the hill on which the structure was located. She was soon hack again, bearing a handful of herbs, of a nature unknown to the doctor, and the virtues of which had never been mentioned in the pharmacopoeia. To his inquiry as to what she was going to do with these, she simply replied, '* You shall see." She burned them in a tin vessel over the fire — the herbs emitting a singu- lar aromatic and almost stifling perfume, notwith- standing the lid of the vessel was kept tightly closed ; and, having thus prepared herself, she en- tered the room in which lay the victim of the terrible disease. She requested to be alone with her patient for one hour. The doctor, as we have observed, had given up all hopes of Captain James's recovery, but he had known strange instances of the skill of the natives in curing diseases incidental to the climate, which had baffled all the skill of regularly trained physicians. The symptoms could be no worse — and the request of the Yunga Jagos woman was granted. For one hour she was closeted with her patient, and Doctor Peterson, whose curiosity had led him to linger at the door, and to endeavor to listen to what was going on within, heard strange sounds issuing from the room, and peeping through the key-hole, he saw the negress engaged in incantations and mummeries similar to those employed by the native conjurors, when endeavoring to exorcise disease. He turned away with a sensation of sickness and loathing ; — but, at the expiration of the hour, the negress re- appeared. Doctor Peterson was about to enter the room. " Not yet ; not yet," signified the negress, placing her fingers to her lips. ** He sleeps, and he must not be awakened. While he sleeps I must wait by his couch." She returned with her babes in her arms, and another hour elapsed. The doctor was growing impatient ; but just as he was on the point of entering the room — wondering- at his own fqlly in havings thus allowed himself to 268 THE CABIN BOY'S STORY. connive in such mummery— the negress again ap- eared, joy depicted upon her countenance, and eckoned him to follow her. He entered the room, and to his utter amazement heheld his patient, him whom he had lately given over as beyond the possi- bility of human aid— sitting up in the bed, sup- ported by the pillows— for the weakening nature of the disorder, even in the short time that had elapsed since the attack had commenced, had prostrated hia strength, and, probably, the active remedies, what- ever they were, had still added to his debility : but, he was entirely free from fever, and was looking in mingled doubt and wonder at the woman who was standing by the side of the cot, jabbering away in her native dialect, still holding the infants in her arms, and evidently half wild with delight at the thought of having saved the life of the rescuer of her babes. In the course of a day or two the captain had en- tirely recovered, and was enabled to rejoin his ship. Shortly afterwards he sailed for England — and thus, thousrh it was a mere act of duty and common hu- manity on the part of the captain — partly the act of chance good fortune, in consequence of his having so opportunely fallen in with the slaver, was this act of humanity rewarded by the grateful mother's preservation of his life when the skill of the leech was utterly at fault. The young ensign was mistaken, and Lieutenant Stringer had yet to wait ere he could mount the coveted silver anchors of the commander's rank on his plain gold epaulettes. Doctor Peterson vainly sought to learn from Juba the means by which she had eflfected so magical a cure. The language of the negress was difficult to be understood, but she willingly showed him the herbs she had employed in her mysterious incanta^ tions ; they were simple creeping parasites, common enough in the woods, and although exceedingly THE CABIN boy's STOU-S-. ^C)^ aromatic, apparently possessed of no medical virtues. Nor did the grateful negress pretend they were ; she did not assert that they could be rendered available, save in peculiar cases. It was, she said, a mark of favor from the great ObeaJt, who had in this in- stance, rendered their virtues serviceable, in behalf of him who had restored her children to the arms and the heart of a wretched and despairing mother. Juba did not wish to return to her tribe. She had, as we have before recorded, been sold by her hus- band, who had become satiated with her charms, and had taken to himself another wife in her place. She feared that if she returned, she would again be sold, perhaps into hopeless slavery. She accepted the offer of Captain James, to take her and her children to England with him, and was subse- quently installed as a favored domestic in his family. Doctor Peterson was unwilling to part with her, but he considered that Captain James had a greater and a prior claim to her than he, and he agreed to the proposition of the former. The Buzzard sailed for England, and on the same day Capt. P , who had delayed the departure of the G purposely during the illness of his brother sailor, also sailed for the United States, greatly to the delight of young Miller, who was anxious again to see his mother, and perhaps a little impatient to show off amongst his former companions, whose destiny had not led them, so early in life, into such scenes of change and excitement as he had taken part in ; besides, the young midshipman was still in a state of considerable bewilderment, with regard to the mysterious connection between his mother's ring and the disappearance of the Recluse of Annabon. 270 THE CIBIK BOY*S STORY. CHAPTER XXIV, Some further Mystery, leading to an Unexpected Dfoou- ment, arising out of the Rings. " What can the little gijsy mean ? It is a strange story she tells. Some mad woman, I suppose, who has got a fancy into her coddled brain, which she cannot get rid of. I will read the paragraph again : i « m * A. strange adventure has lately be- fallen me, dear William. You recollect sending me that beautiful ring, shortly after you removed to Boston. Why did you think it necessary to go there, William ? Could you not have completed your legal studies quite as well in Augusta ? But I suppose you know best. Perhaps it is better as it is; but I am forgetting my story. I have ahvays worn that ring since— and mamma has often joked me about it; and a good many of my companions have asked me what I set so much store upon it for. Well, on Monday last as I was going across the meadow that lies at the back of our house — that meadow where we used to wander of an evening, after you came home from the office, during the happy period when I saw you every day — I met a lady, at least so far as appearances go ; that is to say, she was respectably attired in black silk, and altogether presented a very decent appearance. I had pulled off my glove to gather a posy of wild flowers, and as this lady was passing me she stopped suddenly, and started, and looked so strange and frightened that I grew rather alarmed. I was about to ask her if she was unwell, when she ap- proached me, and seizing my hand, asked me whence I obtained the ring I wore. I scarcely knew what to say ; but I believe I told her it was a gift from a dear friend, and was about to pass on, when she grasped my right arm and commenced some incoherent harangue about her daughter; say- ing that the ring belonged to her, and that I must THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. 271 have stolen it from her, and she asked me if it had not the letter J enji^raved on the inside ? I said yes, and that the initial stood for my own name — Jessica. However, she grew almost violent in her demeanor, and I don*t know what I should have done had not papa come up on his way from the office. The lady commenced assailing him ; but he managed to calm her, and bidding me hasten home to mamma, he and this ptrange woman walked together to our house. They were all the time engaged in earnest conversation ; and papa, when he got home, took her up stairs into his study, where they were closeted for a long time. At last she went away, and then papa sent for me, and asked me if you had ever told me how the ring came into your possession. I said you had informed me that you purchased it in Bos- ton ; and that was all I knew about it. He said no more ; but every day since then, he and this lady, whose name I have never heard, for he never says anything to me or mamma about her, have been closeted together ; and whenever I have chanced to meet her, she has given me a most scrutinizing glance, and looked at the ring as though she would like to tear it from my fingers. Now, dear William, if there be any mystery attached to this ring, do tell me about it, for I am dying with anxiety to know the cause of all these singular proceedings. * * ♦ * I am going to the post-office to post this letter to- night, and papa has just placed a letter for you and one for Mr. Ogilvie into my hands, both of which letters he wishes me to post with mine. Perhaps papa's letter to you may explain. If it does, let me know when you write again. Yours, ever faithfully and affectionately, Jessica Deanb,* I can't make head or tail out of that epistle," exclaimed the young man, whom the reader will already have recognized as William Martin. ** But, I declare, in my anxiety to read Jessie's letter, I have Sf?2 TttS! CARiK fiOY*S StORY. forgotten Mr. Deane*s,'* and lie took up the letter from his former patron in Augusta, and breaking the seal, read as follows : Augusta, Me., 18 — . *on have THE CABIN BOY'S STOEY. 309 cancelled my indentures, and give them up to me/* said Frank, interrupting the merchant, " and I will neither ask nor accept any further favors from you, Mr. Mordant." The merchant was an old and wealthy man, an influential memher of society ; one whom, to he ac- quainted with, was considered to stamp the respect- ahility of the happy possessor of that acquaintance- ship. Frank Martin was a mere youth— a sailor boy — who had to fight the battle of life unaided, and to win his way upwards step by step by his own exertions ; but the moral courage bestowed by con- scious innocence and the cowardice of conscious guilt were clearly^demonstrated in the course of this brief interview ; — the gray-haired merchant quailed before the calm, clear blue eye of the youthful sailor, and without saying another word, he with- drew from a desk the indenture spoken of, cancelled it, and handed it to Frank. Then, as the youth was about to leave the office, he would have renewed his offers of assistance — " I am sorry," he said, " that matters have hap- pened thus unfortunately. I hope, young man, you will have the discretion to keep yoiir own counsel, and I shall '* " You need fear nothing from me, sir," replied Frank, again interrupting the merchant. ** I am not yet fallen so low as to become an informer." Without deigning to await the merchant's res- ponse, he turned on his heel and quitted the office, carelessly crumpling the cancelled indenture in his hand, and thrusting it in his pocket. When he had left, Mr, Mordant gave way to a reverie, in which thoughts of the most painful and distracting nature intruded themselves. He felt truly repentant of the course he had for several years pursued, and by the means of which he had very considerably increased his wealth ; but whether the repentance was real, or whether it was only that 310 THE CABIN ROY*S STORY. which sooner or later always overtakes the doer of evil, and is oftener caused by regret at the failure of his schemes, and by the dread of that retribution which he fears awaits him, than by remorse for his past conduct, we leave to the reader who has been afforded an insight into the principles which actua- ted the merchant in his undertakings and specula- tions, to decide. Frank Martin resolved to call upon Captain Sey- mour that evening; meanwhile he went home to his lodgings, where he found a letter awaiting him from his brother, acquainting him of the arrival of Mr. Deane in New York — which intelligence had been received shortly after he had left Boston, and requesting him to call upon that gentleman, who had taken rooms at the same hotel with Seymour. " I don't know this Mr. Deane," said Frank to himself, when he read the letter ; " but, as it will be all in my way when I call at the Astor House to- night, I suppose I must make myself known to him. I wonder if J essica, the young lady William thinks so much of, is with him. If I thought she were, I should like to see her. Yes, I'll call on Mr. Deane before I see Captain Seymour to-night." Having arrayed himself in his best, in the hope that Jessica Deane had accompanied her father to New York, and naturally wishing to make as favor- able an impression as possible in the eyes of his bro- ther's sweetheart, Frank presented himself at seven o'clock at the door of the apartments occupied by Mr. Deane in the hotel. He was kindly welcomed for his brother's sake, and as he had anticipated, Jessica Deane had accompanied her fatjier to the city. "My daughter, Mr. Martin," said Mr. Deane, presenting the young seaman to the beautiful girl. '* You have no doubt, heard William speak of her. You must be friends with William Martin's brother, Jessie," (addressing his daughter) ; and leading her to the youth, he placed the young lady's hand in that of Frank. THE CAEIN BOY'S STORY. 811 Jessica blushed and smiled, and said she should always be happy to enrol in her list of friends any relative of William Martin ; and Frank, as he felt the soft, electric touch, and saw the kindling blush that suffused her cheek, and marked her blue eyes do^vncast with modesty, and yet beaming with de- light, half envied his brother's good fortune, and wondered if he, rude sailor as he was, would ever meet with such a neat, tidy, little consort — willing to journey side by side with him across the stormy ocean of life. " I presume your brother has informed you, Mr. Martin, of the interesting circumstances that have lately transpired relative to your family and Mrs. Donaldson?" said Mr. Deane, after some prelimin- ary conversation had taken place. " He has, sir," replied Frank, " and I need scarcely say that I hope matters will turn out favor- ably for us ; but, I cannot stay long to-night. I will see you again before I start for Camden, I have to call upon a gentleman who is putting up at this hotel — one Captain Seymour, under whose com- mand I once sailed." " Captain Seymour — Seymourl" said Mr. Deane, " there is a person of that name connected with this affair between Mrs. Donaldson and your family. He will be the residuary legatee in case the old lady should die without making a will. However, there are, of course, many persons of that name. Still, I should like to see this Captain Seymour.'* " You can easily do that, sir ; though, perhaps, it would not be so easy a matter to assure yourself of his indentity with the person in question. I would f\sk you to step up to his room with me, but it is better that I should first see him alone." Wishing Mr. Deane and his daughter good night, Frank, having procured the direction and the num- ber of the apartment, from a waiter, proceeded to Captain Seymour's room. He knocked at the door. 312 THE CABIl^ 150 Y'S STOET. and shortly he heard the well-known voice of his late commander, utter the words — " Come in.*' Frank entered the room. Seymour was seated at a table, writing ; and before him, on the table, lay an open locket, containing the portrait of Zu- leika ; he raised his head as the young man entered, and looked at him inquiringly, not immediately re- cognizing him. " Do you not know me, Captain Seymour ?" said Frank, "my name is Martin — Frank Martin. I sailed with you on board the Albatross." " And took French leave of me, in Aracati Bay, boy," exclaimed Seymour, rising from his seat and frankly extending his hand to the youth. " Well, 1 would have caught you if I could; but you managed to get the better of me. It was as well. You have heard, I presume, that the Albatross has been cap- tured off the coast of Africa. It has been a bad business throughout; and now, I have resolved to abandon it forever. Let by-gones be by-gones, boy. Come, sit you down and join me in a bottle of wine; and we'll chat of old times. Perhaps, I did not use you well as regards that last little affair ; but my passions were uppermost and I scarcely knew what I did. " Come, sit down,** he repeated, " the sight of an old ship-mate refreshes me. Tolcroft is here ; but the beast is half crazy with delirium tremens, and I have had to send him to the hospital.'* The young sailor was utterly thrown off his guard by the frank, open manner of his former captaio. He had entered the room expecting to find Seymour alarmed at seeing him ; and had anticipated angry words and recriminations on both sides ; but the cap- tain was confident in his own power to sway men to his will, and in this instance he had not exerted it in vain. Frank took the extended hand, accepted Seymour's invitation, and in the course of a quarter of an hour, the two sailors, different as were their T3IE CABIN boy's STORY. 313 relative positions and circumstances, were chatting merrily over the incidents of former days, and call- ing up old reminiscences with all the gusto of those aged veterans who are so fond of sailing their voy- ages and fighting their battles over again, in the snug shelter of the chimney corner. **And what do you intend doing with yourself now ?" asked Seymour, after a pause in the conver- sation. " I have not thought of anything yet. I shall go to sea again, I suppose ; but not in one of Mr. Mor- dant's ships. I have had enough of them. Mean- while, I am going home to see my mother and sister. By-the -by," he continued, carelessly, for the wine he had drunk had made him foolishly communica- tive, " a streak of good fortune, as it may turn out, has befallen us since I have been absent from home. An old lady — an Englishwoman, I fancy — has dis- covered that my mother is a relation of hers, and that my sister is her namesake, and she is going to leave Sarah her property. Her name is Donaldson, My mother's name was Donaldson before " " Donaldson ! an Englishwoman I" exclaimed Seymour. "Your mother's name was Donaldson before she was married, Frank? What part of England did she come from ?" *' I think I have heard her say from Somerset- shire," replied Frank. "The Donaldsons of Somersetshire! Good hea- vens ! it must be the same family. Did you ever hear your mother mention the name of Seymour ?" ** Not that I know of," said Frank ; but that re- minds me — Mr. Deane, the lawyer, who is investi- gating this matter, has said something about a per- son of the name of Seymour, who is concerned in the matter. That is, who will be the heir to the old lady's property, provided she dies without making a will (which I pray to God she won't do) or some- thing of that sort. Mr. Deane and I were talking about it just now." 314 THE CABIS boy's STOEY. " Talking about it just now, boy ? Is Mr, Deane here ?'* " He occupies a room below, and when I men- tioned your name, be said be should like to see you." " I will go and see him at once— nay, stay — go you to him, Frank, and make Captain Seymour's compliments, and ask Mr. Deane if he can make it convenient to come up to my room — with you, Frank, mind, with you.'* ** What's in the wind now ?" thought Frank, as he proceeded to deliver the message. "Wonders will never cease.** In the course of a few minutes the young man returned with Mr. Deane, to whom he introduced Capt. Seymour. *' I have requested the favour of your company, sir,** said Seymour, entering at once into the subject, *' to ask you some questions relative to the business you have, I understand, on hand, in which my young friend here is interested. He says that you have spoken of a person named Seymour, in connection with one Mrs. Donaldson, who is, or professes to be, a relative of this young man's mother. Do you know the degree of relationship, if any, that exists between this Mr. Seymour and Mrs. Donaldson ?*' " 1 do not know that I am justified in stating all that Mrs. Donaldson has related to me in confidence,*' replied Mr. Deane, "but I presume, from your ask- ing the question, that you imagine yourself to be the person alluded to under the name of Seymour. I will state that Colonel, the Hon. Alfred Seymour, I believe, sometime about the commencement of the present century — I do not recollect the exact date — married a Miss Mary Donaldson, the eldest daughter of one James Donaldson, of Hose Abbey, in the County of Somerset, England — I am sorry to add, that from all I can learn, the colonel sadly neglected the lady, who died of a broken heart, through her husband's conduct, leaving issue by the colonel, one THE CABIN boy's STORY. 315 Bon named Alfred, who was brought by his father, while still a lad, to America. He married, when he arrived at man's estate, a young French lady, then residing with her guardian in Louisiana, and died a few years after his marriage, leaving his widow with one only child. What became of this boy, whether he be still living or not, I cannot say ; but it is this son of Alfred Seymour to whom Mrs. Don- aldson alludes. It was her eldest sister who married Colonel Seymour." " What relationship does Mrs. Donaldson bear to Mrs. Martin, the mother of our young friend here ? Pardon me for being so curious, but I am singularly interested in this matter." ** Mrs. Martin is the niece of Mrs. Sarah Donald- son, and, I believe, her only living relative, except this grand-nephew, Seymour, now alive. On the death of Mr. Donaldson, of Rose Abbey, he be- queathed his property to his second daughter, Sarah, the elder daughter, Mary, having died before her father, who refused to leave a single shilling to bis graceless son-in-law, who, by the way, from all I can learn, did not need the money, being both wealthy and highly connected. Mrs. Donaldson wishes to leave her fortune to her niece ; but failing to establish this claim, this young man, Seymour, should he ever turn up, would be the heir." " Frank, my lad," said Seymour, taking the aston- ished youth by the hand, and shaking it heartily, I grant it is a sort of Scotch relationship, although it does not go back quite to the thirty-second degree. But as your great aunt and my great aunt are both one and the same person — viz., this Mrs. Sarah Donaldson this gentleman speaks of— for I am the grandson of Colonel Alfred Seymour— we must be cousins in some sort of way, boy. I don't say that you have any reason to feel proud of your newly- discovered relative"— and he laughed a hollow laugh — '-but at all events, if I can furnish a link in S16 THE CABIN BOY*S STORY. the chain of identity, I will do so with pleas^jre. It's not often 1 have the chance to do good service, and still seldom er that I feel inclined" — and he again laughed that short, hollow laugh — **hut I owe you a good turn, as a set-oflf against & past offence, and you shall have the benefit of it. As to niy being heir to the property, that's all moonshine. I have money enough, if that will bring peace and happiness ; besides, did not old Mr. Donaldson cut off his son-in-law, my graceless grand-daddy, with a shilling ? But come, Frank, you have a Ijrother and a sister and a mother living ; they are all rela- tives of mine. I must see them. And Mr. Deane," addressing the lawyer, " I must have the pleasure of an introduction, through you, to this venerable old grand-aunt of mine, of whom you speak." Frank was so amazed at what he had heard — his interview with Seymour had been productive of fruit so entirely different from what he had anticipa- ted— that he could not reply; but Mr. Deane, who was delighted at the turn matters had taken, shook Captain Seymour by the hand, and asked him to dine with him on the following day. " And, my dear sir," he added, if you think of going to Camden with Master Frank, and visiting your newly- discovered relatives, we will travel all together as far as Augusta, where I will introduce you to Mrs. Donaldson, who, perhaps, may be in- duced to accompany you to Camden, when she finds that her object is so satisfactorily attained. I need not say that I am gratified at the turn matters have taken. The main cause of my visiting New York was to institute inquiries with regard to this busi- ness, and I care not how soon I return home." Seymour accepted the invitation, adding, "I do feel inclined to visit Camden, but my visit must of necessity be short ; for as soon as I have satisfac- torily arranged certain business I have on hand, I fl,m going to Europe, whence, in all probability, I taE cASiN boy's stoey. si 7 may never return. Still, I will see these relatives of mine before 1 go." On the following day Seymour and Frank dined in Mr. Deane's room, and the former was introduced to Jessica. During the progress of the meal, his attention seemed to be strangely fixed upon the young lady, so much so, indeed, that he replied in quite an absent manner to various remarks that fell from the lips of her father. At length he could no longer control his curiosity. " 1 am afraid I shall appear rude," he said ; "but may I ask you, Miss Deane, to allow me to examine that ring you wear on your finger. I have seen but one that resembled it ; and there are singular circumstances connected with its history." The young lady drew the ring from her fingei^ and placed it in Seymour's hand. He examined it closely, and apparently in a careless manner, glanced at the inside. There was the letter J engraved in the old Roman character. Without making any remark, he returned it to the young lady; but various strange thoughts passed through his mind. This little episode was not observed by Mr. Deane nor by Frank, who were both deeply engaged in conversation at the time, or possibly some explana- tion might have been vouchsafed to Seymour. As it was, his fancy was left to its own imaginings. The next day the party set out for Augusta, and Seymour was introduced to Mrs. Donaldson ; and, as Mr. Deane had anticipated, the lady gladly con- sented to join Seymour and Frank in their anticipa- ted journey to Camden. ** It is singular about that ring," thought Sey- mour, as he was undressing himself that night in his chamber in Mr. Deane's house at Augusta. " I must see Mrs. Miller on my return to New York, and ascertain whether she has heard any thing of £oor Jane. I could swear that the ring Miss Jessica )eane wears is the one I presented to Jane Miller. SIS THE CABIN boy's STOUT. Let me sec— this is Wednesday — to-morrow ni^lit T shall be at Camden. I Avill remain there till Satur- day, and be back in New York by Tuesday or Wednesday next, at the latest. By the middle of the ensuing week T can arran