"She's coming this way," added Monkey, as the barge moved towards the Skylark.
In a moment she was alongside, and Colonel Montague, to the surprise of the skipper, stepped on board. He wondered greatly what had procured him the honor of a visit from such a distinguished man.
"Good morning, my lad," said the colonel, with a pleasant smile, which seemed to belie his conduct the evening before.
"Good morning, sir," replied Bobtail.
"Good morning, sir," added Monkey, exhibiting all the teeth in his head.
Colonel Montague glanced at the Darwinian, and possibly debated in his own mind whether the crew of the Skylark was man or monkey.
"You have a fine little boat here," added the visitor.
"She's a first-rate boat; but she ain't much side of yours," replied Bobtail, whose impressions in regard to the owner of the Penobscot were undergoing a rapid change. "She'll sail some, and she's good when it blows."
"And you take parties out in her?" added the visitor.
"Yes, sir; I have one to-day."
"I'm afraid not, Captain Bobtail," said the colonel, with a smile.
"I'm engaged, at any rate," added Bobtail, who, if the colonel had not smiled, would have thought he was impudent to doubt his word.
"You must thank me for taking your party away from you. I found that some friends of mine at the Bay View House were to go in your boat to-day; but I invited them to go with me."
"Well, sir, I don't thank you for it," said Bobtail, rather pertly.
"Wait a minute, my lad. They told me they had engaged your boat; and I promised to make it all right with you. They were to pay you seven dollars for the day. Here is seven dollars;" and the colonel handed him this sum. "I suppose that will make it all right."
"Yes, sir; that's handsome, and I'm very much obliged to you," answered Bobtail, warmly; and by this time he thought that the owner of the Penobscot was a prince.
"Now, Captain Bobtail, if you would like to take a sail in the Penobscot, you may go with us, as you have lost your job for the day," added Colonel Montague.
"Thank you, sir; I should like to go first rate!" exclaimed Bobtail, delighted with the idea.
"You may go on board with me," continued the colonel.
"I will, sir.—Monkey, you will lower the sail, and take care of the Skylark. Don't let any one have her; and I will pay you just the same as yesterday."
The Darwinian was very well satisfied with this arrangement, and immediately began to consider what he should have for dinner, since the choice was left with him. The barge returned to the Penobscot, and Bobtail followed her owner on deck. Though the young skipper of the Skylark was very democratic in his ideas, he did not presume to take a place upon the quarter-deck with the family, but went forward and fraternized with the sailors, all of whom, except the mates, were young men. Presently the order was given to set the mainsail, and Bobtail took hold of the peak-halyard to lend a hand. He worked well, and by his activity won the favor of his new companions. He did his full share of all the work, because he was not fond of idleness. The party came on board, and the order was given to get under way.
"Clear away the jib and flying-jib," said the sailing-master.
Bobtail ran out on the bowsprit, and, dropping down upon the foot-rope, was at the outer end of the flying-jib boom in an instant, clearing away the sail.
"How smart you are!" said Miss Grace Montague, who was standing with another young lady of the party near the foremast, when he returned to the deck.
Little Bobtail blushed like a girl, for he was not accustomed to talking with such nice young ladies.
"Thank you, miss; but it don't take more than half a day to loose a flying-jib," he replied.
"But aren't you afraid of falling into the water?" she asked.
"O, no. I'm used to vessels. I sail the Skylark, which you see there," replied Bobtail, pointing to the little yacht.
"That's the boat we were going in," added the other young lady. "Then you are Captain Bobtail?"
"Folks call me Little Bobtail; but I'm not captain," answered the young skipper, blushing again.
"Run up the jib!" shouted the sailing-master.
Bobtail sprang to the halyard, ungallantly turning his back to the young ladies. They looked at the short skirts of his coat, and he heard a silvery laugh, as he took in the slack of the rope. Miss Montague and Miss Walker were very much amused when they discovered the origin of his name.
The wind was fresh; the Penobscot went off like "a thing of life," and Bobtail enjoyed the sail exceedingly. She ran down as far as Owl's Head, and then stood over towards the eastern shore of the bay. At one of the best places she lay to, and the party caught cod and haddock till they were tired of the sport, and then the yacht anchored under the lee of an island. The day was fine, and the excursionists desired to visit some of the islands in the vicinity. Both boats were manned, and went off in different directions, according to the fancy of those on board of them. Bobtail was permitted to occupy the fore-sheets of the one which carried Mrs. Montague and the two young ladies, for somehow he took great pleasure in looking at the latter, and wished they would be a little more sociable. This boat wentto Blank Island, which has a high bluff on the east side of it, and all the party landed. The ladies and gentlemen ascended the steep side of the island, and reached the cliff which overhangs the sea.
Bobtail followed them at a respectful distance, while the sailors remained near the boat. From the bluff he looked down into the little bay, where he had anchored the Skylark the night he picked her up. The cliff was about thirty feet high, and rose abruptly from the water, which was very deep at the foot of it, so that a large ship might have floated alongside the rocks. The party seated themselves near the cliff, and were observing the rolling sea beneath them, for a south-easterly wind was driving the huge waves into the little bay. It was a grand sight, and the two young ladies sat on the very edge of the precipice, watching the surges which beat and broke against the wall of rocks.
"Don't go too near, Grace," said Mrs. Montague.
"I'm not afraid, mother," replied the young lady.
"These rocks crumble off sometimes, Miss Montague," added Bobtail, timidly approaching the spot.
"There isn't any danger," answered the wilful miss.
"Do you know what they call this place?" asked Bobtail.
"I'm sure I don't."
"Lover's Leap," laughed the young skipper. "The story is, that an Indian girl came to this island, and jumped off this cliff, because her father wouldn't let her marry the man she wanted."
"Where did she come from?" asked Miss Walker.
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Pooh! I don't believe any Indian girl leaped off these rocks. It wouldn't hurt her any if she did," sneered Miss Montague.
"But she would drown in the water," suggested Bobtail.
"Well, I don't believe the story, because I think there are a thousand just such cliffs, and some Indian girl leaped off every one of them," persisted Grace Montague. "I have seen ever so many 'Lover's Leaps' myself, and the stories about them are nothing but stories."
"Perhaps this story is true," said Miss Walker, who was perchance more sentimental than her companion.
"I don't believe a word of it. If the Indian girl wanted to drown herself, why should she come way out here, when she could find deep water enough near the shore?"
"Perhaps it was to get away from her friends," suggested Miss Walker.
"Perhaps it was, but I don't believe it. If I wanted to drown myself, I could find a better place than this," said Grace, rising, and standing on a loose stone close to the edge of the precipice. "If it were not for getting wet, I should just as lief jump off here as not;" and she swung her arms just as though she intended to take the leap.
"Grace! Grace!" shrieked her mother, in frantic tones, as she saw her daughter demonstrating in this dangerous manner.
The young lady was evidently startled by the shrill tones of her mother. She swung her arms back, as if she had lost her balance, and then went head first over the cliff. The loose stone on which she stood rolled back, and it was plain now that her foothold had been very insecure.
"O, mercy, mercy!" screamed Mrs. Montague, as Grace disappeared over the precipice.
The poor mother rushed towards the cliff, and in her agony would have thrown herself off, if the ladies with her had not held her. Little Bobtail was appalled as he saw Grace go over; but he believed in action rather than words. Kicking off his shoes, and divesting himself of his bobtail coat, he made a graceful and scientific dive into the depths below. He was celebrated as a diver and swimmer, and really felt almost as much at home in the water as on the land. And this was not the first time he had dived over this very cliff. He had done so several times before for sport and bravado, and therefore we are not disposed to magnify his conduct on the present occasion.
Miss Grace Montague had not added to her other accomplishments that of swimming, which would have been a very useful attainment to one of such strong aquatic tastes and tendencies. She could not swim, and she did not attempt to do so. She only floundered and flounced about in the water, struggling madly and purposelessly in the waves. Our hero went deep down into the depths of the little bay, and when he rose he saw Miss Grace borne by the waves towards the wall of rocks. If she was not drowned, shewould be mangled to death against the rocks. He struck out for her, and in a moment she was in his arms, or, rather, in one of his arms, for he threw only his left around her, in such a manner as to confine her hands in his grasp. With his head above the water, he swam towards the open bay, fearing the rocks more than the waves.
With his heavy burden he found it impossible to make any headway against the waves, which drove him fiercely towards the rocks. Grace struggled violently, and this added to the difficulty of saving her. He buffeted the waves till his strength seemed to be all gone, and he feared that he should be obliged to abandon the poor girl to her fate. But the screams of Mrs. Montague on the rock above induced him to renew the struggle with new vigor; but his feet touched the wall of rocks behind him. He rose and fell with the waves, but still he held his charge firmly under his arm.
Little Bobtail was not making any headway with his burden. The waves threw him back until his feet touched the wall of rocks. He had struggled and labored, and Miss Grace had struggled and labored, as if intent upon defeating his beneficent efforts, until his strength was nearly exhausted. But he treated himself as he did a boat in heavy weather; he kept his head to the sea, well knowing that if he got into the trough, the waves would roll him over, and render him helpless. When his feet touched the rock, he "shoved off" vigorously. Fortunately for him, the young lady in his grasp was even more exhausted than he was, and by this time she was content to keep reasonably quiet. Bobtail only endeavored to keep her head out of the water, which he was not always able to do when thegreat waves surged in upon him. He no longer attempted to make any headway, but by occasionally pushing his feet against the rocks he saved himself from being disabled against them.
One of the gentlemen on the island had shouted to the boatmen to pull around to the little bay. The sailors, thrilled by the screams of Mrs. Montague, were straining every muscle, and their oars bent like reeds before their vigorous strokes. The other boat, with Colonel Montague in the stern-sheets, was also hastening to the spot, the half frantic father urging the men forward with wild gestures. On the rock above, the party watched the struggling swimmer as he bravely supported his helpless burden.
Two of the ladies held the agonized mother, to prevent her from leaping over the cliff. The gentlemen were shouting to the men in the boat to hasten their speed, for there was nothing else they could do. Bobtail saw the boat, and heard the rapid thumps of the oars in the rowlocks. The sight and the sound inspired him with new courage. He had ceased to struggle any more than was necessary to keep his distance from the rock.
"Hold on a few seconds more," shouted one of the gentlemen on the rock above.
Bobtail tried to speak, but he could not, though he felt that for a short time longer he was master of the situation.
"Way enough!" said one of the men in the boat. "Toss him an oar, Bill."
The stroke oarsman threw one of his oars to Bobtail, who grasped it, and supported himself with it.
"Back her," said the man in the bow, as he reached forward, and seized one of Miss Grace's arms, while the other man kept the boat in position with his oars.
The stout sailor lifted the young lady into the boat, and Bobtail laid hold of the bow with his released hand. A shout of joy rose from the rock when Grace was safely drawn into the boat.
"Back her!" gasped Little Bobtail, still clinging to the bow with one hand, while he held the oar with the other.
Grace was exhausted and panting violently, but she was not insensible. She was even able to sit up; and when the boat had backed clear of the rocks, she was placed on the velvet cushions at the stern. In another moment the second boat dashed alongside, and Colonel Montague leaped into thestern-sheets, and folded his daughter in his arms. He wiped the salt water from her face, and did all he could to improve her situation.
"Pull for the yacht!" said he, nervously.
All this time Bobtail had been clinging to the bow of the barge, recovering his breath. The sailor assisted him into the boat, and he dropped down into the fore-sheets, breathing heavily from exhaustion. The stroke-oarsman picked up his oar, and the two men pulled with all their might for the yacht, while the other boat went around to the landing-place on Blank Island to bring off the party there.
"How do you feel, Grace?" asked Colonel Montague, as he laid his daughter's head upon his breast.
"Better, father," she replied, faintly. "I'm cold."
"Give way, lively, my lads," added the colonel, to whom minutes seemed like hours.
When the barge came alongside the accommodation-steps, Colonel Montague bore Grace in his arms to the deck of the Penobscot.
"Let me sit down here in the sun, father," said she.
"But you must remove your wet clothes."
"Not yet. Let me rest a few moments. I shall be all well in a little while."
"What's the matter, Edward?" asked the Hon. Mr. Montague, who had remained on board of the Penobscot, being too old to scramble about the rocks.
"I have been overboard, grandfather," replied Grace, with a faint smile; and it was evident that her condition was rapidly improving.
"Overboard, child!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "How did it happen?"
"I don't know. I was not with her," replied the colonel. "But where is that boy?"
"That boy" has just come on deck, and had seated himself in the waist. He had recovered his wind, and was now nearly as good as new. He felt that he had done a big thing, and he wondered that no one said anything to him. The boat that brought him to the yacht had gone for the party which had been left on the island; and no one but the colonel knew anything about the part he had borne in the affair. But he was not long neglected, for the instant Colonel Montague thought of him he hastened to the waist, and with tears in hiseyes, grasped him by the hand. Doubtless he betrayed more emotion than the occasion seemed to warrant—emotion which was not all gratitude.
"My lad, you have done me a service which I can never forget," said he, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"It's all right, sir. I feel better than if I hadn't done it," replied Bobtail.
"But come aft, and see Grace," added the colonel.
"No, sir, I think I won't bother her now. She must feel pretty bad after the ducking she got."
Just at this moment the barge from Blank Island dashed up to the steps. Mrs. Montague was a demonstrative woman, and she had not even yet ceased to scream.
"O, where is she? where is she, Edward?" cried the poor mother, as she rose in the stern of the boat.
"Here I am, mother," exclaimed Grace, hastening to the rail on the quarter-deck. "I am not drowned or hurt."
Mrs. Montague was assisted up the steps, and in another moment she was sobbing over her child inher arms. While this scene was transpiring on the quarter-deck, the rest of the party went to Little Bobtail, and took him by the hand, as they expressed their admiration of his heroic conduct.
"That wan't anything," replied Bobtail. "I have dived off that rock twenty times before."
"But Grace would have drowned if you hadn't done it."
"Well, I don't know. I suppose, if I hadn't gone for her, some of the rest of you would."
"I don't know about that," said one of them, shaking his head. "I might have gone into the water, but I couldn't have done much."
Mrs. Montague hurried Grace into the cabin as soon as the violence of her emotions had in a measure subsided.
"But I haven't seen Captain Bobtail yet," said the daughter.
"You shall see him; but you must take off your wet clothes first," replied her mother.
"Not yet, mother. I must see him this instant. Tell him to come down here."
"I'll go for him," said Emily Walker, as she rushed up the companion-way.
Perhaps Miss Walker was more sentimental thanMiss Montague; at any rate, she flew to the spot where Bobtail was seated, threw her arms around his neck, and actually kissed him before he had a chance to repel the assault, if he desired to do so.
"What a dear, good fellow you are!" exclaimed she. "But you must come right down into the cabin this instant. Grace wants to see you."
"I'm all wet, and I guess I won't go down now," replied Bobtail, blushing like a red cabbage in the dews of the morning.
"But you must come. Grace is dying to see you;" and Miss Walker took him by the arm, and tugged at it till she dragged him to his feet.
"I don't like to go down into the cabin. I haven't got my coat and shoes yet."
"Never mind your coat, Mr. Bobtail. Grace won't change her wet clothes till she sees you."
Of course Miss Walker carried the day, and Little Bobtail was dragged into the cabin. Grace seized him by both hands, and warmly expressed her gratitude. Emily wondered that she did not kiss him. If he had saved her, she would have kissed him twenty times. Mrs. Montague pressed his hand, and thanked him over and over again. Then Colonel Montague took his hand again, andexpressed himself even more fully than before. The Hon. Mr. Montague followed him, and every lady and gentleman of the party took him by the hand, and said something exceedingly handsome; and Bobtail began to think they were overdoing it.
"But come, my lad; you are in your wet clothes, while we are talking to you," interposed the colonel. "You must have a dry suit."
"Never mind me, sir. I'm used to it," laughed Bobtail.
"You will catch cold."
"Catch a weasel asleep! I don't catch cold."
Colonel Montague insisted, and the sailing-master lent him a shirt and a pair of trousers twice too big for him, and Bobtail put himself inside of them. His bobtail coat and shoes, which had been brought from the island, were dry, and he was in presentable condition. Grace soon appeared, her hair nicely dried and dressed anew, wearing a white dress and a blue sacque. She looked very pretty; but Bobtail thought that Emily Walker was the prettier of the two. By this time dinner was ready, and the skipper of the Skylark was invited to dine in the cabin. He did not exactly like the idea, for he felt that he was not sufficientlyposted in the ways of genteel society to sit at the table with such grand people.
"I'll take my grub with the hands forward, sir," said he, laughing. "I shall feel more at home with them."
"But we shall not feel at home without you, my lad," replied Colonel Montague. "Besides, when everybody gets cooled off, we want to talk over the affair on the island, for I haven't even heard how Grace happened to be in the water."
The owner of the Penobscot would not "let him up," as Bobtail expressed it when he told his mother the story, and he was placed at the table between Grace and Emily Walker. Chowder was served first. Bobtail kept his "weather eye" open to see how the rest of the party did, and adjusted his conduct by theirs. He wondered what "those towels were stuck into the tumblers for;" but when little Miss Walker unrolled her napkin, and placed it in her lap, and the gentlemen of the party did the same, he followed their example.
"Now, Grace, tell me how you got overboard," said Colonel Montague, when the soup plates were removed.
Mrs. Montague shuddered, for the scene wastoo terrible to be recalled with anything but anguish.
"Captain Bobtail had just told Emily and me a story about an Indian girl who jumped off that same cliff; but I didn't believe a word of it," Grace began. "I stood up on a stone near the edge, and swung my arms, for I was thinking just how the Indian girl looked, if she really did jump off that cliff. Just then mother screamed, and frightened me. I started back; but the stone I was standing on rolled over, and threw me forward, so that I went down into the water head first."
"I thought the child was going to jump overboard," added Mrs. Montague, with a strong tremor passing through her frame.
The details of the affair were repeated, and then all eyes were directed at Little Bobtail, who was more concerned about the propriety of his conduct at the table than about his deeds at Blank Island; but probably, if he had fed himself with his knife, his admiring friends would cheerfully have forgiven him. He found it more difficult to transfer mashed potato from his plate to his mouth with the silver fork than it was to dive off that cliff into the sea.When the pastry came on, it was absolutely appalling to think of eating custard pie with a fork, and he would rather have undertaken the feat of swimming around Blank Island.
"You know I always shovel in custard pie with my knife," said he, afterwards, in telling his mother about it; "but everybody else used a fork, and so I had to."
But Bobtail magnified the trials and tribulations of that grand dinner in the cabin of the Penobscot, for, by keeping his "weather eye" open, he hardly sinned against any of the proprieties of polite society, and some of the ladies even remarked how well he behaved for a poor boy. The dinner was finished at last, and "it was a tip-top dinner, too," for besides chowder and fried fish, there were roast beef and roast chicken, boiled salmon, puddings, pies, and ice-cream. Perhaps Bobtail ate too much for strict gentility, but he excused himself by declaring that not only the stewards, but all the party, "kept making him eat more of the fixins."
"When I got through that dinner, mother," said he, "I was just like a foot-ball blown up for a game; and if the captain's trousers that I worehadn't been a mile too big for me, I couldn't have put myself outside of half that feed."
After the dinner, which Bobtail will remember as long as he lives, the party went on deck. Grace was as bright and fresh as ever. She and Emily walked up and down the deck. The young skipper went forward to talk with the crew, for he did not wish them to think that he was putting on airs because he "took his grub in the cabin." The men congratulated him on his good fortune, and assured him he had made a rich and powerful friend, and that he would get a pile of money by the operation. Bobtail thought that a hundred dollars was "a pile of money," and, if any one claimed the Skylark, this sum would enable him to purchase a better boat than Prince's old tub. But he did not think much about this matter; in fact, he was gazing at Miss Grace and Miss Emily, as they walked so gracefully on the deck. He was not sentimental, romantic, or very visionary; but these two young ladies were so pretty, and so elegant, and so finely dressed, that he could not help looking at them; besides, they were as sociable now as he could wish. Bobtail joined them intheir promenade on the deck, and was admitted to the privilege with distinguished consideration.
"I should like to have you take a sail with me in the Skylark," said he.
"O, I should like to go ever so much," replied Miss Walker.
"And if you get overboard, I will pull you out."
"I don't mean to get overboard, if I can help it," laughed the little miss, though, from her conversation with Grace, one would have thought she considered it rather a nice thing, if she could only be rescued by a young gentleman.
"You must sail up to Belfast, Captain Bobtail, and come to our house," added Grace. "I have lots of things to show you. We have ever so many boats; and you may ride my pony."
"Thank you, Miss Montague. You are very kind; but you know I'm not one of the grand folks, and I shouldn't know how to behave myself in your fine parlors."
"Pooh! You behave just as well as any of the young men that come to our house," said Grace, pouting her lips. "You are just as good as any of them, and a great deal better than most ofthem. I hope you will come, Captain Bobtail; I shall be so glad to see you!"
The order was given to get up the anchor, and Bobtail sprang to take a hand in the operation. In a few moments the Penobscot was standing over towards Camden; and the hero of the day began to regret that he must so soon lose his pleasant companions. About five o'clock she landed her passengers at the Portland Wharf, and Monkey came off from the Skylark for Bobtail.
"Little Bobtail, you have rendered me a service to-day which you can neither understand nor appreciate, and I shall never forget it," said Colonel Montague, as he took the boy's hand. "I shall see you again before long. I am going away in the yacht next week for a long cruise; but we shall meet again, and I hope in the end that you will not be sorry for your noble conduct to-day."
"I'm not sorry for it, sir. I've had a tip-top time to-day, and I'm much obliged to you for taking me with you," replied Bobtail, unable to comprehend the whole of the grateful father's speech.
"It is fortunate you were with us. We mighthave been weeping over our lost child, instead of rejoicing, as we do now."
"O, some other fellow would have gone in for her if I hadn't."
"Perhaps not; for not many have the nerve to dive off a high cliff into the sea, as you did. Be that as it may, my gratitude to you is none the less. If you want a friend, if you have any trouble about that boat, or anything else, send for me, for I would cross the continent to serve you."
"Thank you, sir. I don't know that I am likely to have any trouble about the Skylark, for if the owner comes, he can have her."
"And then you will have no boat?"
"No, sir. I shall be out of a boat, sure; and I should like to live in one all the time."
"If you lose her before I return, write a letter to me at Belfast, and it will be forwarded if I have gone. Now, good by, my lad."
The rest of the family shook hands with him again, and spoke many kind words to him. Bobtail leaped lightly into Monkey's boat, and they returned to the Skylark. The skipper spoke in glowing terms of the experience of the day; but somehow the Darwinian did not seem to relish thenarrative. He was nervous, and did not laugh as usual; but it was some time before Bobtail's enthusiasm permitted him to notice the change which had come over his companion's spirits. They went on board the Skylark.
"Has any one been after the boat, Monkey?" asked the skipper.
"No one after the boat," replied the Darwinian, gloomily; "but somebody has been after you."
"After me? Who?"
Monkey was silent, and studied the seams in the deck.
"Who has been after me?"
"Mr. Brooks."
This gentleman was a deputy sheriff; but his name had no terror to Robert Taylor.
"Say, Bob, don't you think we had better get under way, and run for it?" added Monkey, his face brightening for a moment.
"What for?"
"Mr. Brooks said he had a warrant to take you up, and I s'pose he's on the lookout for you now."
"Take me up!" exclaimed Bobtail. "What for?"
"Something about a letter—I don't know what."
"I know," replied Bobtail, musing, for he could not think how, after he had been fully exonerated from the charge of taking that letter, he should again be accused.
The jib of the Penobscot was hoisted while he was musing, and she stood away towards the Spindles off North-east Point.
Little Bobtail watched the beautiful yacht as she piled on her "kites" and gradually increased her speed in the light breeze. He felt that he had a powerful friend on board of her, and he was tempted to call in his aid in meeting the difficulties that seemed to be gathering before him.
"Don't you think we'd better run for it, Bob?" asked Monkey. "We can keep out of the way of any boat in Camden. We can run over among them islands, and spend the summer there without being caught."
"I don't run away from anything of this sort," replied Bobtail, proudly. "I'm going to face the music, whatever comes of it."
"But they'll put you in jail," suggested Monkey, opening his eyes as wide as they would go.
"I don't care if they do. I haven't done anything wrong, and I'm not going to run away. If Mr. Brooks wants me, here I am."
"There he comes; and Captain Chinks is with him. We can hoist the mainsail, and be out of the way before they get here, if you say the word," added the crew of the Skylark, nervously.
"I don't say the word. I'm all right, and I'm ready to look any of them square in the face."
"But what's it all about, Bob?"
"Squire Gilfilian says I stole a letter with money in it, which was sent to him."
"You!" exclaimed the Darwinian. "Well, I know better'n that myself."
"So do I," laughed Bobtail, pleased with the enthusiasm of his friend.
"Here they come. Captain Chinks looks as ugly as sin itself. He is at the bottom of this business. You stay by, and take care of the boat, Monkey, whatever happens to me. If any one attempts to get her away from you, send for Squire Simonton."
"I'll stick to her as long as there's a chip left of her, Bob; but I don't like to have them takeyou out of her in this kind of style, and send you off to jail."
"You needn't be concerned about me. I have some strong friends, and I'm rather sorry I didn't stop the Penobscot, and tell Colonel Montague what's up. I would, if I had known exactly what was going to happen."
A boat with Captain Chinks at the oars, and Mr. Brooks in the stern-sheets, came alongside the Skylark.
"You are here—are you?" said Captain Chinks, with an ugly look.
"Of course I'm here," replied Bobtail, quietly. "I ain't nowhere else."
"I want you to go on shore with me," added the deputy sheriff.
"Monkey says you want to take me up."
"I don't want to do so, but I must discharge my duty. I have a warrant for your arrest," replied Mr. Brooks.
"What for?"
"For stealing a letter with money in it."
"Captain Chinks here knows that I didn't do it."
"No, I don't."
"You saw the letter in Squire Gilfilian's office after I left."
"That's so; but I can't say that you didn't go back after I went off. I didn't believe you took the letter till the squire proved it; and then I couldn't help believing it. I don't see how you can help believing it yourself."
"I didn't take the letter."
"We will talk this matter over at the squire's office," interposed the deputy sheriff. "You had better not say much about it here."
"I'm going to speak the truth right straight through, and I don't care who hears me."
"You are not obliged to say anything to commit yourself, Bobtail. I want you to understand that," said Mr. Brooks, kindly.
"I shall not say anything to commit myself, you had better believe, for I didn't take the letter."
"The less you say about it, the better," added the officer.
"Does my mother know anything about this business?" asked Bobtail.
"I reckon she knows more about it than anybody else except yourself," answered Captain Chinks.
"I have talked with your mother about it," said Mr. Brooks. "She feels very bad, of course; and she says she can't explain the matter at all."
"She don't know anything about it," replied Bobtail.
"I will send for her when we get on shore," added the deputy sheriff.
Captain Chinks pulled to one of the wharves up the harbor, where the party landed, and then proceeded to the office of Squire Gilfilian. The lawyer was there, and so was the ill-visaged man who took care of the case of the bank robbers. Mr. Brooks had sent a boy for Mrs. Taylor as soon as they landed, and she and her husband arrived at the office almost as soon as Bobtail.
"O, Robert," exclaimed the poor woman, her eyes filling with tears, as she hugged her boy.
"Don't be scared, mother. I didn't do this thing, and I shall come out all right," replied Bobtail. "Don't fret about it."
"I can't help it, Robert. I wish—"
Mrs. Taylor suddenly checked herself. "What do you wish, mother?" asked Bobtail, who thought there was something very strange in her conduct.
"I wish they hadn't arrested you," added she; but this was evidently not what she had intended to say.
"So do I; but you needn't be frightened. I didn't take the letter, nor the money."
"I know you didn't, Robert, but the case looks very bad against us."
"I think so, Mrs. Taylor," said Squire Gilfilian, who had been occupied in looking over some papers when the party entered, and was now ready to give his attention to the case. "I should like to hear what you have to say."
"This is not an examination," said the deputy sheriff to Mrs. Taylor and her son. "If you don't wish to answer any questions here, you needn't do so. The case will come on to-morrow, before Squire Norwood."
"I am ready to answer any questions that can be asked," said Bobtail, stoutly, "whether it is an examination or not."
"Do as you please about it. If you want any help—any lawyer—I will send for one," added Mr. Brooks.
"I don't want any lawyers. I can tell the truth without any help," answered Bobtail.
"Did you come back to the office after you put that letter on my desk?" asked the squire.
"No, sir; I did not," replied Bobtail, squarely.
The lawyer took from his pocket-book a five hundred dollar bill, and spread it out on the desk at his side.
"Did you ever see that bill before, Robert Taylor?" demanded he, sternly.
"No, sir."
"Think before you answer."
"Think! I don't want to think. I never saw a five hundred dollar bill before in my life," answered Bobtail, with no little indignation in his tones.
"I am sorry to see you persist so stoutly in a lie," said the squire, shaking his head, as he glanced at Mrs. Taylor.
"It isn't a lie; it's the truth, and I'll stick to it as long as I have breath in my body," replied Bobtail, warmly.
"You are not under oath now, Robert Taylor."
"I'll say just the same under oath, and before all the lawyers and judges in the State of Maine."
"Mr. Slipwing, do you know this bill?" added the squire, addressing the ill-visaged man.
"I do. I will swear in any court that this is the bill I sent you in the letter from Portland," replied the man.
"You are very sure?"
"Positively so. I remember the bank, and there are three things on the bill which enable me to identify it. The cashier's pen snapped when he wrote his name on the left, and blotted the bill. The corner was torn off, and it was mended in another place with a piece of paper from the edge of a sheet of six-cent postage stamps."
The ill-visaged man spoke confidently, and whatever his character, his testimony was very clear.
"What has all this to do with me?" asked Bobtail, who did not yet understand the situation.
The lawyer smiled, and perhaps he thought that the boy was playing his part extremely well for a novice.
"My testimony will come in next," added Squire Gilfilian. "This afternoon, Mrs. Taylor, who is the mother of this boy, paid me five hundred dollars, for I had foreclosed the mortgage on her husband's house. Now, Mrs. Taylor, where did you get the bill?"
"Robert didn't give it to me," she replied; and she seemed to be very much troubled and very much embarrassed; so much so, that her looks and actions were the worst possible evidence against her.
"So you say, Mrs. Taylor; but you don't answer my question."
"I can't tell you now where I got it," stammered the poor woman.
Ezekiel Taylor and Little Bobtail were more astonished at this answer than any other person in the room. Both of them wondered where she had obtained so much money, while the others in the office believed that her answer was merely a subterfuge to conceal the guilt of her son. Ezekiel could not help thinking, just then, that his wife always had money; that, while she had no visible means of obtaining it, she always had enough to feed and clothe the family. He had considered this subject, and wondered over it before; and the only solution of the mystery he could suggest was, that her first husband had left her more money than she ever acknowledged he did, and she had concealed it to prevent him from spending it. As to her son, he had never thought of the matter at all. All thatconfused and confounded him was, his mother's refusal to answer what seemed to him a very simple question.
"Mrs. Taylor, you will be a witness, and the most important one in the case, when it comes up before Squire Norwood to-morrow," added the lawyer.
"I suppose I shall," replied Mrs. Taylor, with a gasp.
"You will be put under oath, and compelled to testify."
"But you are not under oath now, and you need not say anything, if you don't wish to," said Mr. Brooks.
"As the matter looks now, you are a party to the theft, and I can cause your arrest," added the squire, vexed at the officiousness of the deputy sheriff.
"O, dear me!" groaned Mrs. Taylor.
"Don't be frightened, mother," interposed Bobtail. "You know, and I know, that you did not obtain the money from me."
"And the Lord knows I did not, and that I came honestly by it, too," sobbed the poor woman, who had a mortal terror of courts and the law.
"If you came honestly by the money, why don't you tell where you obtained it?" added Squire Gilfilian.
"I have my reasons."
"If your son did not give you this bill—"
"He did not! I'm sure he never saw it before," protested Mrs. Taylor.
"Whoever gave you this bill must have stolen it," said the squire, sternly.
"That don't follow," replied Mr. Brooks. "It may have passed through the hands of half a dozen persons after it was taken from the letter."
"Are you the counsel for these parties, Mr. Brooks?" demanded the squire, smartly.
"I am not; but the prisoner is in my keeping, and shall have fair play. I'll take him away if you are not satisfied, for I brought him here to oblige you," answered the deputy sheriff, who was certainly very considerate towards his charge.
"All I want is, to get at the truth," added the squire, in a milder tone. "If Mrs. Taylor did not receive this bill from her son, and will tell us where she got it, we can trace out the thief."
"That's the point," said Captain Chinks. "We want to find the guilty party."
Captain Chinks winked rapidly for an instant, as though his brain was fearfully exercised to discover the thief. He had one black eye, which winked faster than the other—it was the result of his interview with Little Bobtail the day before, for the boy struck hard when he was assailed.
"I can't tell you where I got the bill," said Mrs. Taylor; "but I came honestly by it."
"It's no use of saying anything more, then," added the lawyer. "Under these circumstances, I am compelled to regard you as a party to your son's guilt, Mrs. Taylor; and I must cause your arrest."
"Don't do that, Squire Gilfilian," pleaded Bobtail.
"I must do it. It becomes my duty to do it."
"Let him do it," whispered Mr. Brooks.
"I can't help it if you do," sobbed the poor woman. "If I have to go to jail, I can't tell."
"Nothing more can be done, and I shall procure a warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Taylor," said the lawyer, gathering up the papers on his desk, and restoring the five hundred dollar bill to his pocket-book.
Mr. Brooks and Bobtail left the office, followed by Mrs. Taylor and her husband.
"I am responsible for you, Bobtail," said the officer.
"I won't run away, sir. You have been very kind to me, Mr. Brooks, and I won't go back on you," replied Bobtail.
"But I must not lose sight of you; and I don't want to send you to jail. I'll take you to my house."
"Just as you say, sir; but I should like to go home and have a talk with mother. I want to see Squire Simonton, too."
"Very well; I will go home with you. I saw Squire Simonton walking towards his house just now. There he is, in front of the hotel, talking with Mr. Hines."
They walked towards the Bay View House. It was nearly tea time, and the guests of the house were seated on the platform, under the shade of the trees which surround the hotel. There was an excited group there, for the particulars of the cruise of the Penobscot that day had just been related by the Walkers and others.
"I want to see you, Squire Simonton," said Bobtail.
"There he is. Three cheers for Little Bobtail!" shouted Mr. Walker, as he pointed to the hero of the day.
There were gentlemen enough who had heard the story to give the cheers, and the ladies clapped their hands.
"That's for you, Bobtail," said Mr. Hines. "We have heard of your brave deeds, and all the people in the hotel are talking about you."
Little Bobtail blushed like a beet, and while Mr. Hines was telling the deputy sheriff how the boy had saved Grace Montague from the waves and the rocks, the hero related his own troubles to Mr. Simonton. Mr. Walker and Emily came out, and insisted that Bobtail should go into the hotel, and see the ladies. Ever so many of them shook his brown hand, and he blushed and stammered, and thought the scene was ten times as trying as that off Blank Island. Then he must take tea with the Walkers. He could not be excused.
"I can't, sir," protested Bobtail. "I have been taken up for stealing since I came a shore. But I didn't do it."
"For stealing!" exclaimed Emily Walker, with horror.
"I didn't do it."
"I know you didn't, Captain Bobtail," replied Emily.
"This is Mr. Brooks, the deputy sheriff, and he is responsible for me," added Bobtail. "So you see I can't leave him."
"Then Mr. Brooks must come too," said Mr. Walker.
The officer was very obliging, and went too. Bobtail was a first-class lion, though under arrest for stealing. The gentlemen patted him on the head, and the ladies petted him. A party wanted the Skylark for the next day, another for Monday, and a third for Tuesday. The hero could not go the next day, for he had to be examined before Squire Norwood for stealing the letter. It was dark when he escaped from the hotel, and went home attended by Mr. Brooks. Squire Simonton was there waiting to see him.
After the scene at the office, Ezekiel and his wife had walked to the cottage together. Neither of them was in a pleasant frame of mind. The tippler was sober, because he had neither rum nor money. He wanted both, for he was thirsting and hankering for a dram.
"So it seems you've got money somewhere," said Ezekiel to his troubled wife.
"No, I haven't," replied Mrs. Taylor, who was only thinking how she could extricate herself from the difficulties of her situation, and not at all troubled about the thoughts or suspicions of her worthless husband.
"Yes, you have! When I don't have a dollar, you always have somethin'," persisted Ezekiel. "You've kept money hid away from me ever since we was married. Your first husband left more'n you told on."
"All that my first husband left me was gone years ago," added Mrs. Taylor, indifferently.
"You've got money somewhere."
"If I have, I shall keep it."
"You hain't no right to do so."
"Yes, I have. If I had any money, I would not let you have it to spend for rum. Every dollar you get goes for that, and you would have starved to death if I hadn't taken care of you."
"If you've got any money, I wan't some on't; and I'm go'n to have it, too."
"I haven't any money; at least not much of any; and what I have I mean to keep."
Ezekiel was mad. He was fully convinced that his wife had money concealed somewhere, or in the hands of some friend, who gave it to her as she wanted it. She always paid the bills of the house very promptly, and had enough to buy a dress for herself, or a suit of clothes for Robert, and even for him. He felt that he had a right to his wife's property, even if he spent it for rum. But Mrs. Taylor was too much for him; for whatever secret she had, she kept it. This was not the first time that Ezekiel had been vexed by these suspicions, and he had searched the house several times, when she was absent, for the hidden treasure, but without finding it. The debate on this question was continued long after they returned to the cottage, but the husband was no wiser at the end of it than at the beginning.
All the points of the case were stated to Squire Simonton, who volunteered to act as counsel for Bobtail.
"But where did this bill come from, Mrs. Taylor?" asked the legal gentleman.
"I can't tell," replied the troubled woman.
"You can't tell!"
"No, sir; I cannot."
"But your refusal will certainly insure the conviction of your son."
"Robert did not give me that bill," protested she.
"I don't believe he did, nuther," said Ezekiel. "She's got money hid away somewhere."
"If it had been hid away long, it could not have been the bill which was sent in the letter."
"It wasn't hid away," added Mrs. Taylor. "I might injure somebody by telling where I got the bill; and for that reason I can't say a single word, even if I go to prison for it."
"But your son will be sent to prison, certainly, if you don't tell," said the lawyer.
"O, dear! What shall I do?"
She positively refused to tell even Squire Simonton, who explained that, as counsel, he could not be obliged to reveal the secrets of his clients. It was finally arranged that a postponement of the examination should be obtained, if possible; and Mr. Walker and half a dozen others had promised to give bail for Bobtail.
"I don't know that we can do any better under the circumstances," said Squire Simonton, after the arrangement of the legal business had been agreed upon. "But we are making a strange case of it."
The squire bestowed one of his pleasant smiles upon the case, for he was one of those sweet-tempered men who never frown, even when they are vexed. He was perplexed, and very properly claimed the right, as counsel, to know all the facts. But it was evident that Mrs. Taylor had, or supposed she had, a good reason for concealing the source from which came the five hundred dollar bill.
"Squire Gilfilian purposes to make Mrs. Taylor a party to the theft," said Mr. Brooks. "Probably he will get out a warrant for her arrest in the morning."
"I never thought it would come to this, that I should be taken up for stealing," added the poor woman, bursting into tears.
"You can hardly wonder at being arrested," suggested the squire. "The stolen property was in your possession, and you refuse even to explain where you got it."
"I could tell a lie about it, but I won't do that," sobbed Mrs. Taylor. "If you can only get the case put off for a few days, or a week, I hope—I may be able—that is, I may be able to explain how I came by that bill."
"We must give some reason for desiring a postponement," replied the lawyer. "Can you really say, Mrs. Taylor, that you expect to obtain more testimony?"
"I hope to obtain it."
"Very well. Then I think we can have the case put off till, say, next Tuesday."
"I will try to have matters explained by that time; but I am to be taken up and sent to jail."
"O, no," laughed the squire. "You may be arrested; but that will amount to nothing. Your husband can give bail for you, for it appears that this house belongs to him now, since the mortgage is cancelled."
"I won't go bail for her," said Ezekiel, sourly; and this was the first time he appeared to be of the slightest consequence.
"Won't you?"
"No, I won't. She has kept money hid away from me."
"Never mind, mother. We shall get bail enough to keep a coaster afloat," interposed Bobtail. "If we can't do any better, I'll send for Colonel Montague. He told me, if I ever wanted a friend, to send for him."
"Certainly he will help you, after what you have done to-day," smiled the lawyer.
"But I don't want to have you to go away up to Belfast for him," said Mrs. Taylor, who appeared now to be more troubled than ever.
"I don't think we need to do so, mother. Mr. Walker and two or three other gentlemen said they would bail me out; and so I don't believe we shall sink," laughed Little Bobtail.
"Now, Mr. Brooks, I don't think you need take the boy away from his friends. I am sure he won't run away," added the squire.
"I am satisfied. Though this is the oddest case I have had anything to do with for a long time. Iam inclined to think Bobtail will come out right, though for the life of me I can't see how," added the deputy sheriff.
"I'll trust Bobtail anywhere. He goes to our Sunday school, and I know he is an honest boy, however bad his case may look just now," continued Mr. Simonton.
Mr. Brooks was entirely willing to trust the lion of the day out of his custody; and he left the cottage with the lawyer.
"I s'pose I ain't o' no account here," said Ezekiel, as the door closed behind the departing gentlemen.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Mrs. Taylor.
"I wan't to know sunthin' about this business. I s'pose I ain't the head of this family."
"I don't think you are," replied the wife. "You haven't done much for it the last seven years."
"You bring that boy of yourn up to steal. If he'll take my property, he'll take other folks' property."
"It's no use to talk any more about that matter," said Mrs. Taylor, impatiently.
"I believe the boy stole the letter and took the money out on't," muttered Ezekiel.
"A little while ago you believed I had money hid away, and took the five hundred dollars from that."
"It was one way or t'other, and one ain't no wus 'n t'other. I hain't been consulted in this business at all."
"You refused to be bail for me, and that's enough for one day," answered Mrs. Taylor.
"I ain't a goin' to resk my property for a woman that keeps money hid away from me, and won't tell no thin' about this business."
"Your property would have been all taken away from you long ago if I hadn't paid the interest, and paid the mortgage, too."
"But where did you get the money to pay the mortgage with?"
"That will all be explained in due time."
Ezekiel went over the same ground again and again. He was angry, and finally left the house. He felt that he was an abused man, because he was ignored. He objected to giving bail for his wife simply to increase his own importance, and a little importunity would have won his consent.He was vexed because he had not even been asked a second time to yield the point.
"Now, mother, we are alone," said Bobtail. "Can't you tell me where you got that bill?"
"I can't tell anybody, Robert," replied his mother. "I am sure that all will be explained in time."
"The case looks bad against me, mother."
"I know it does;" and the tears began to flow from her eyes again.
"I don't like to be accused of stealing, and have it proved, as it seems to be in this case. I don't blame anybody for thinking I'm guilty, when the very bill that was in the letter was handed to the squire by you, and you won't tell where you got it. I shall be sent to the state prison for two or three years."
"O, Robert, I shall be crazy! Do you think I stole the bill?"
"No, mother; nothing of that kind. I know you wouldn't steal. You know I didn't give you that bill, and you are the only one that does know it positively. I wonder that Squire Simonton don't give me the cold shoulder, though he is my Sunday school teacher. I can't see what difference itwould make if you should tell where you got the bill."
"I can't say a word about it. I will try to have the whole matter explained before Tuesday," said the poor woman, troubled as she had never been troubled before.
"I think I shall call on Colonel Montague, if I get a chance. He told me I should hear from him again," said Bobtail, as he put on his cap, for he intended to sleep on board of the Skylark.
"I wouldn't bother him with the matter, Robert."
"Why not? He told me to send for him if I ever wanted a friend; and I want one now, if ever I did."
"It will look as though you wanted to make too much of what you did for him to-day."
"I don't think so, mother. He is a great man, and has influence. If I can get a chance to run up to Belfast in the Skylark, I will do so."
"Don't tell him that I sent you, Robert," said Mrs. Taylor, actually trembling with emotion.
"Of course I won't; but I don't see why you are so particular about not calling on him. I know he would be glad to help me."
Mrs. Taylor made no reply, and her son, bidding her good night, left the house. He went on board of the Skylark, and after he had told the Darwinian the whole story of his misfortune, he turned in. He did not sleep as well as usual. He could not help thinking half the night of his troubles. They worried him, and he wondered if people were ever really punished for crimes they did not commit.
Ezekiel Taylor left the cottage hardly less disturbed than his wife was. He had a strong suspicion that he was not the head of the family; that Mrs. Taylor had actually usurped his powers and prerogatives; that she dared to think and act for herself and her son without much, if any, regard to him. He felt belittled and degraded; not because he was a drunkard, and neglected to provide for his family, but because he was not in fact, as he was in name, the head of the house. He was thirsty and hankering for rum, and this condition made him ugly. He had not a cent in his pocket, and his credit at the saloon was not good even for a single dram. But he went to the saloon, for it was possible that some one might treat him. The first person he saw when he entered was Captain Chinks.
Almost everybody seemed to be troubled that night, and Captain Chinks was among the number. Things did not work to suit him; and every time he viewed himself in the glass he saw that black eye which Bobtail had given him, and every time he touched that eye there was a soreness there to remind him of that affair in the cabin of the Skylark. He did not love Little Bobtail, and the event of the day that had set everybody to talking about and praising the boy made him feel ten times worse. It would be hard to convict him of stealing the letter while almost everybody was making a lion of him.
"Ah, Zeke!" exclaimed Captain Chinks, as the tippler entered the saloon.
"How d'y do, cap'n?" replied the nominal head of the family.
"I'm glad to see you, Zeke. I've been wanting to see you. Won't you take something?"
"Thank ye; I don't care if I do take a little o' sunthin'. I don't feel jest right to-night," answered Ezekiel, placing his hand upon his diaphragm, to intimate that this was the seat of his ailing.
"We will go into this little room, if you like,"added Captain Chinks, as he led the way into a small apartment, where a party could dine or sup in privacy. "Give us a bottle ofthatbrandy," he continued, addressing the keeper of the saloon.
Ezekiel smiled, for a private room indicated a free-and-easy time. A bottle of brandy promised a succession of drams, enough to warm up that disagreeable coldness at the diaphragm, and to lift his brain up to the pitch of a tippler's highest enjoyment. Then "thatbrandy" suggested a liquor of choice quality, something which his companion had tested, and knew to be good. Ezekiel was happy, and for the moment he forgot that he was not the actual head of the family; that his wife had kept money "hid away from him;" and that her son had destroyed his property. But he wondered what Captain Chinks could want of him, for that worthy did not generally treat him with much consideration, whereas now he was polite, generous, and ready to invest to the extent of a whole bottle ofthatbrandy, which must be very choice, and therefore expensive.
The bottle came, and the door of the little room was closed. Captain Chinks seated himselfon one side of the table, on which the bottle and glasses were placed, and invited Ezekiel to occupy a chair on the other side. The captain pushed the brandy and a glass towards his guest, who needed no persuasion to induce him to partake of the choice liquor. He poured out about half a tumbler of the stuff, but he kept his hand over the glass,—he was a wily toper,—so that his host should not see how much he took. He added a very little water to the fiery fluid, and then held the glass in his trembling hand till the captain was ready to join him. The man with a doubtful reputation did not cover his glass with his hand; if he had thought it necessary, he would have done it in order to conceal how small, rather than how large, a dram he took. He only covered the bottom of the tumbler, and then deluged the liquor with water. Captain Chinks was a cunning man, and he knew that brandy unfits a man for business, impairs his judgment, and blunts his perception. He took a small dram.
"Here's to you," said Ezekiel.
"Thank you; my respects," added Captain Chinks.
The toper drained his glass. The liquor wasstrong, and the tears drowned his eyes as he swallowed the fiery fluid.
"That's good brandy!" exclaimed he, as soon as he could speak.
"First chop," replied Captain Chinks. "You couldn't buy that brandy in Portland for three dollars a bottle. In my opinion that article never paid tribute to Uncle Sam."
"'Tain't no wus for that," said Ezekiel, with a cheerful grin.
"That's so."
"'Tain't right to charge no duties on liquors. That's the reason we git so much pizen stuff. You can hardly git a drop of good brandy for sickness now, without you pay four or five dollars a bottle for it; and I can't afford to pay no such prices," added Ezekiel, deeply moved at this terrible grievance.