The Money Digger. Page 176.The Money Digger. Page176.
The bag was just what Harvey Barth had described, and it weighed at least the four pounds and a half Avoirdupois which he had made it by his calculations. Leopold was tremendously excited, as he seated himself on the brink of the hole, with the shot-bag in his hand.
"Hallo, Le! Is that you?" shouted a voice from the water.
It was Stumpy in Leopold's old boat.
Leopold was terribly startled when he heard the voice of Stumpy. He was the possessor of a mighty secret, and he felt that he had been very imprudent in exposing it to discovery. It would have been better to dig up the hidden treasure in the daytime, when the light would have enabled him to observe the approach of an intruder. But he was glad it was Stumpy, rather than any other person, who had detected him in his strange and unseasonable labor. If need be, he could reveal the great secret to his friend, which he would have been very unwilling to do to any one else. But he did not wish to say a word about the hidden treasure even to Stumpy.
He was startled when he heard the voice of his friend, and, without deciding at that momentupon his future course, he dropped the shot-bag into the hole from which he had taken it, and hastily covered it with sand to the depth of a foot, in fact, filling up the smaller hole he had made. This was the work of a moment; and before Stumpy had time to approach the spot, Leopold, with the lantern in his hand, walked to the place where his friend had landed.
"What are you doing here in the dark?" demanded Stumpy, as Leopold approached him.
"Lighting up the darkness," replied the money-digger, lightly.
"What were you doing with that shovel?" added Stumpy, as his friend stepped into the old boat, the bow of which rested on the beach.
"Digging, of course," answered the possessor of the mighty secret, not yet decided whether or not to reveal what he knew, and what he had been doing.
"I don't think there is much fun in digging down here where it is as dark as a stack of black cats."
"I was not digging for the fun of it. But what brought you down here in the darkness, Stumpy?" asked Leopold, willing to change the subject.
"I wanted to see you, and went over to the Sea Cliff House. Your father told me you had gone out in your boat just at dark; and, as a smart squall had just stirred up the bay, he was somewhat worried about you."
"Was he? I didn't know that he ever worried about me when I was on the water. I think I know how to take care of myself."
"No doubt you do; but the smartest boatmen get caught sometimes. I think we had better hurry back, for the longer you are out, the more anxious your folks will be about you."
"That's so," replied the considerate Leopold. "But we have two boats here, and we can't both return in the Rosabel."
"Can't we tow the old boat?"
"We can, but I don't like to do it, for the old boat will be sure to bump against the Rosabel, and scrape the paint off. Now, Stumpy, if you will take the new boat, and sail back in her, I will follow you in the old tub. You will get to the house long before I do, and you can tell the folks I am right side up."
"Why don't you go in the Rosabel, and tell them yourself?" suggested Stumpy.
Just at this point Leopold was bothered. If Stumpy reached the hotel first, he would tell Mr. Bennington where he had found his son, on the beach under High Rock, with a lantern and shovel in his hand. Of course his father would wish to know what he was doing there; and under present circumstances this would be a hard question, for Leopold was deeply indoctrinated with the "little hatchet" principle. In a word, he could not tell a deliberate lie. He could not place himself in a situation where a falsehood would be necessary to extricate himself from a dilemma. Unhappily, like thousands of other scrupulous people, he could "strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel;" for it was just as much a lie to deceive his father by his silence as it was by his speech.
But, after all Leopold's motive was good. He was afraid his father would use the hidden treasure to relieve his embarrassments in money matters, and he was not willing to subject him to this temptation. The young man was still firm in his faith that the money belonged to somebody, and just as firm in the belief that it was his duty to seek out the owner thereof, which he had not yet done, or had time to do.
He had thought a great deal about the ownership of the treasure; and, arguing the question as he might to himself, he always reached the same conclusion—that the money did not belong to him, and that it did belong to somebody else. He had considered the possibility of finding the proprietor of the twelve hundred dollars in gold through the owners of the Waldo, and the consignees or agents of the brig in Havana. This was before he found the old shot-bag; and, now that he had held it in his hand, this conclusion was even more forcible than before. Satisfied that the secret would be safer in the possession of Stumpy than of his father, he was tempted to tell him the whole story.
"After all, I guess we will go back in the Rosabel, Stumpy," added Leopold, when he had considered the matter. "You can keep your eye on the old boat, and see that she don't do any harm."
"I can keep her from doing any mischief," said Stumpy.
Leopold asked his companion to haul the Rosabel up to the beach, and, shoving off the old boat, he returned to the spot under Coffin Rockwhere he had been digging. Using his shovel vigorously for a few moments, he filled up the excavation he had made, and levelled off the sand and gravel, so that no chance visitor at the place should discover the traces of his labor.
By the time he had finished the work, the Rosabel had been hauled up to the beach, and the painter of the old boat attached to her stern. In a few moments the money-digger and his friend were under way, standing towards the mouth of the river.
"I don't see why my father should be worried about me," said Leopold, as he seated himself at the tiller.
"You don't very often go out in the night, and in a thunder-storm, too. I was worried about you myself, Le, for any fellow might be caught in a squall. Without saying anything to your father, or any other person, I took the old boat, and stood out of the river. I shouted to you with all my might. When I got out beyond the point, I saw the light on the beach, under High Rock, and went for it."
"Well, I'm much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken," added Leopold.
"But what in the world were you doing on the beach with the lantern and the shovel?" asked Stumpy. "You couldn't catch any clams under the rocks where you were."
"I didn't catch any. When you sung out, I was sitting on the beach. I had anchored the Rosabel, with a long cable, and when the squall came, it blew her off so far from the shore that I could not get on board of her without swimming."
"O, that's it—was it?" exclaimed Stumpy, entirely satisfied with this explanation.
Certainly every word which Leopold had uttered was strictly and literally true; but Stumpy's deception was as complete as though it had been brought about by a lie. The money-digger was not quite satisfied with himself, though he had an undoubted right to "keep his own counsel," if he chose to do so. But while he was thus bothered about the situation, his friend changed the topic.
"I wanted to see you," said Stumpy, after he had accepted his companion's explanation.
"What for?"
"That old hunks had gone and done it!"added Stumpy, whose chief emotion seemed to be a violent indignation.
"What old hunks?"
"Why, grandad."
"What has he done?"
"Taken possession of our house; or, what amounts to the same thing, has notified my mother that she must move out on the first of August, if the mortgage note is not paid."
"That's rough," added Leopold.
"Rough! That isn't the word for it," protested Stumpy, warmly. "It is mean, rascally, contemptible, infamous, infernal! I should bust the dictionary if I expressed myself in full. If Squire Wormbury was a poor man, or really needed the money, it would be another thing; or if he would wait till houses and land are worth something in Rockhaven. But he takes the time when the war has knocked everything into a cocked hat; and nobody knows whether we are going to have any country much longer, and nobody dares to buy a house. Confound him! he takes this time, when the place won't fetch anything! He knows it will bring two thousand dollars just as soon as the clouds blowover. He intends to make money by the operation."
"Well, I don't see that you can help yourself, hard as the case is."
"I don't know that I can; but I have been trying to do something."
"What?"
"I have asked two or three to take the mortgage; but I haven't found anybody yet. Nobody down here has any money except my grandad, and it might as well be buried in the sea as to be in his trousers' pocket."
"Did you want to see me about this business?" asked Leopold.
"Yes."
"Do you think I could help you out?"
"That was my idea."
"That's good!" laughed Leopold. "My father can hardly keep his head above water now. He don't know where he shall get the money to pay the interest on his mortgage, due on the first of July. I should not be much surprised if your grandfather had to foreclose on the Sea Cliff House."
"Of course I don't expect you to find themoney for us, only to help me in another way. But what you said about your father reminds me of something I was going to tell you, when I saw you."
"What's that?"
"If my grandad was a decent man, I wouldn't say anything about it," replied Stumpy, apparently troubled with a doubt in regard to the propriety of the revelation he was about to make.
"If there is anything private about it, don't say anything," added Leopold, whose high sense of honor would not permit him to encourage his friend to make an improper use of any information in his possession.
"The conversation I heard was certainly not intended for my ear," continued Stumpy, thoughtfully.
"Then don't mention it."
"I think I ought to tell you, Le, for the business concerns your father."
"No matter whom it concerns, if the information don't belong to you," said Leopold. "If I hear my father and Jones talking about Smith in a private way, I don't think I have any rightto go and tell Smith what they say. It makes trouble, and it's none of my business."
"I think you are right in the main, Le; but let me put the question in another form. Suppose you heard two scallawags in your hotel talking about setting my mother's house on fire; suppose you knew the plan they had formed to burn the cottage; would you say it was none of your business, because you happened to hear them, and the conversation was not intended for your ears?"
"I don't believe I should say or think any such thing. These men would be plotting to commit a crime and it would be my duty to tell you," replied Leopold.
"My sentiments exactly. A crime! That's just my opinion of what my grandad is doing."
"If you think so, it is perfectly proper for you to let on."
"I do think so and I shall let on," added Stumpy. "As you said just now, the interest on the mortgage note which your father owes Squire Moses will be due on the first day of July; and that's only ten days ahead. The squire thinks your father won't be able to raisethe money, because he has been to him to ask the old skin flint to let him up a little."
"Yes; I know all that," replied Leopold, sadly, for he dreaded the first of July almost as a condemned convict dreads the day of execution.
"I went up to grandad's the other day, to carry his spectacles, which he left on the table when he came to tell mother that she must move out on the first of August. I wanted to give the spectacles into his own hands, and to say a word to him about the place, if I got a chance. I went into the kitchen, where the old man stays when he's in the house. He wasn't there; but I heard his voice in the next room where he keeps his papers, and I sat down to wait till he came out. There was no one in the kitchen but myself, for the women folks had gone up stairs to make the beds."
"But whom was Squire Moses talking to?" asked Leopold, much interested.
"I was going to tell you all about it, Le; but I wanted to say, in the first place, that I didn't go into the kitchen to listen, and I didn't want to break in on the old man when he wasbusy. Squire Moses did most of the talking, and it was some time before I found out who was with him. But after a while the other man spoke, and I knew it was Ethan."
"Ethan Wormbury you mean?" asked Leopold.
"Yes my uncle Ethan, that keeps the Island Hotel. Your father's new house, Le, has scared him half out of his wits. I can't remember half I heard them say; but the substance of it was, that if your father don't pay his interest money on the very first day of July, the old man means to foreclose the mortgage just as quick as the law will let him. That's the upshot of all that was said."
"That's too bad!" exclaimed Leopold, indignantly.
"Just what I thought, and that's the reason why I wanted to tell you. Squire Moses said your father's furniture was mortgaged, and that would have to be sold too. The plan of the old hunks is to get the hotel, and put Ethan into it as landlord. If he can't do it this summer, he means to do it as soon as he can. He thought if he got the house, he could buy thefurniture, and set Ethan up by the middle of July, or the first of August."
"It's a mean trick," muttered Leopold.
"That's what I say; but it isn't any meaner than a thousand other things the old man does. Only think of his turning his son's wife, with three children, out of house and home! But you can tell your father all about it, Le, and perhaps he may be able to get an anchor out to windward," continued Stumpy, whose sympathy for his friend was hardly less than his fear for his mother's future.
"I'm much obliged to you for telling me, Stumpy; but I don't know that my father will be able to do anything to help himself, desperate as the case is," added Leopold.
"I hope he will."
"So do I but I have my doubts. Father said to-day that he had six calls for every dollar he got. He has mortgaged everything, so that he can't raise anything more. He said there was money enough in the large cities; that they had picked up after the first blow of the war, and some men were getting rich faster than ever; but down here everything was at a stand-still;no business, and no money. The rich folks will come down to the hotel by and by; and father says a good week, with the Sea Cliff House full, would set him all right; but he can't expect to do anything more than pay expenses, and hardly that, till the middle of July."
"It's a hard case, and Squire Moses knows it. He said if he couldn't get the house on the first of July payment, he was afraid he should not be able to get it at all for Ethan. I hope your father will be able to do something."
"I hope so. If I could find any one who would give me a hundred and fifty dollars for this boat, I would sell her quick, and hand the money over to father. It would pay his interest, into thirty dollars, and perhaps he could raise the rest, though he says he has not had twenty dollars in his hand at one time for a month. I can't exactly see why it is that when men are making money hand over fist in some parts of the country, everything is so dead in Rockhaven. The quarries have all stopped working, and the fishermen have gone to the war," said Leopold, as the Rosabel reached her landing place near the hotel, where she was carefully moored; and the boys went on shore.
"By the way, Stumpy," continued the skipper, as they walked up the steep path towards the road, "you said I might be able to do something to help your mother out of her trouble. If I can, I'm sure I should be glad to do so."
"I don't know that I will say anything about it now. Your case is rather worse than mine, if anything, and you have enough to think of without bothering your head with my mother's troubles," replied Stumpy.
"Of course I can't raise any money to help her out; but if I can do anything else, nothing would please me more."
"If you have any friends, you ought to use them for your father."
"What do you mean by friends? I haven't any friends."
"Yes, you have; but I don't know that you have the cheek to call upon them. I suppose it will do no harm to tell you what I was thinking about, Le," added Stumpy, when they reached the road, and halted there. "Your boat is called the Rosabel. You gave her that name."
"Of course I did. What has that to do with this matter?" demanded Leopold, puzzled by the roundabout manner in which his friend approached his subject.
"You named the boat after somebody," continued Stumpy, with something like a chuckle in his tones.
"I named her after Miss Rosabel Hamilton, whose father has been one of the best customers of the hotel. Perhaps I had my weather eye open when I christened the sloop."
"Certainly you had," ejaculated Stumpy.
"But it was only to please the family, and induce them to stay longer at the hotel."
"Perhaps it was," added Stumpy, placing a wicked emphasis on the first word.
"O, I know it was!" protested Leopold.
"But I used to think you were rather sweet on Miss Rosabel, when I was in the boat with you."
"Nonsense, Stumpy!" replied Leopold; and if there had been light enough, perhaps his companion might have distinguished a slight blush upon his brown face. "I never thought of such a thing. Why, her father has been amember of Congress, and they say he is worth millions."
"I don't care anything about Congress or the millions; you would have jumped overboard and drowned yourself for the girl at any minute."
"Perhaps I would; I don't know. She's a nice girl," mused Leopold.
"That's not all, either."
"Well, what else?"
"If Rosabel didn't like you better than she did the town pump, I don't guess any more," chuckled Stumpy.
"I think she did like me, just as she would any fellow that did his best to make her comfortable and happy."
"More than that."
"I don't believe it. But what has all this to do with your mother's case, or my father's?"
"I won't mix things any longer. Her father is as rich as mud. I was going to ask you if you wouldn't write to Mr. Hamilton, and ask him to take the mortgage on my mother's house."
Leopold did not like the idea, but he promised to consider it.
"If I were you, Le, I should mention my father's case to him," added Stumpy.
But Leopold did not like this idea any better than the other; and they separated.
Leopold parted with his friend opposite the Sea Cliff House. He entered the office, where his father was busy in conversation with one of the guests. Luckily the landlord, satisfied with the safety of his son, did not ask him where he had been; for his absence on the water was too common an event to excite any remark, and Leopold went to bed as soon as he had shown himself to his mother, and told her that the squall had not harmed him. It is one thing to go to bed, and quite another to sleep. Leopold was tired enough to need rest, yet his future action in regard to the hidden treasure did not allow him to do anything but think, think, think, till he heard the church clock strike twelve. That was the last he heard that night. But with all his thinking, his opinionwas just the same as before. The money did not belong to him, and it did belong to somebody else. He could not escape these two conclusions, and whether his father failed or not, he could see no way by which he could honestly bring the twelve hundred dollars in gold to his aid.
Coming events pressed so heavily upon the minds of his father and Stumpy, that neither of them had questioned him very closely in regard to his business on the beach in the storm and the darkness. As he had thus far escaped without telling any direct lies, he decided to keep his own secret for the present; but he intended, the very next time he went to Rockland, to visit the owners of the Waldo, and inquire about the passenger who had perished in the wreck of the brig. Very likely this man had a wife and children, a father, or brothers and sisters, who needed this money. His wife and little children might at that moment be suffering for the want of it. It belonged to them, and they ought to have it. Even if his father failed, and lost all he had, Leopold felt that it would be better for him to do his whole duty.The secret was with himself alone, and there was no one to applaud his noble decision; nay, if he had told his friends and neighbors, and perhaps even his father, they would probably have laughed at him, called him a fool, declared that he was more nice than wise, and insisted that it was his duty to save the Sea Cliff House from the avaricious grasp of Squire Moses Wormbury.
In spite of his noble conclusion, he was still terribly worried about the financial troubles of his father. The Rosabel was well worth two hundred dollars, and she was almost the only piece of property in the family which was not covered by a mortgage. It was early in the season, when a boat is more salable than later in the year; and before he went to sleep, Leopold had decided to run over to Rockland the next day, if possible, and endeavor to find a purchaser for her, even at three fourths of her value. It would be a happy moment for him if he could put one hundred and fifty dollars into his father's hands, and thus enable him to make up his interest money. There must be some one in Rockland who wanted a boat, andwho would be willing to pay him this price for so fast and stiff a craft as the Rosabel. With this pleasant anticipation in his mind, Leopold went to sleep.
He usually got up between four and five o'clock in the morning; but he did not wake till he heard his father's voice in his chamber. He had been so tired after the hard work he had done on the beach, and lying awake till after midnight, he had overslept himself.
"Come, Leopold; it is after seven o'clock," said Mr. Bennington, in the rather sad and gloomy tones which the misery of his financial trials had imposed upon him.
"Seven o'clock!" exclaimed Leopold, leaping from the bed. "I didn't go to sleep till after midnight, and that's the reason I didn't wake up."
"You needn't get up if you don't feel able to do so," added the landlord.
"O, I'm able enough," protested Leopold, half dressed by this time.
"I should like to have you go down and see if you can get some fish for dinner," added his father.
"All right. I will get some, if there is any in the sea," answered the young man, as he finished his primitive toilet.
In fifteen minutes more, he had eaten his breakfast, and was descending the steep path to the river, where the Rosabel was moored. The weather was cloudy, and out at sea it looked as if the fog would roll in, within a short time, as it often did during the spring and summer. Indeed, the one bane of this coast, as a pleasure resort, is the prevalence of dense and frequently long-continued fog. Sometimes it shrouds the shores for several days at a time; and it has been known to last for weeks. It is cold, penetrating, and disagreeable to the denizen of the city, seeking ease and comfort in a summer home.
When the sloop passed Light House Point, Leopold saw that the dense fog had settled down upon the bay, and had probably been there all night. But he did not bother his head about the fog, for he knew the sound which the waves made upon every portion of the shore. As one skilled in music knows the note he hears, Leopold identified the swash or theroar of the sea when it beat upon the rocks and the beaches in the vicinity. By these sounds he knew where he was, and he had a boat-compass on board of the Rosabel, which enabled him to lay his course, whenever he obtained his bearings.
Before the sloop had gone a quarter of a mile she was buried in the fog, and Leopold could see nothing but the little circle of water of which the Rosabel was the centre. With the compass on the floor of the standing-room, he headed the sloop for the ledges, outside of which he expected to find plenty of cod and haddock. The wind was rather light, but it was sufficient to give the Rosabel a good headway, and in half an hour he recognized the roar of the billows upon the ledges. Going near enough to them to bring the white spray of the breaking waves within the narrow circle of his observation, he let off his main sheet, and headed the sloop directly out to sea.
The best fishing ground at this season was about two miles from the ledges; and with the wind free, Leopold calculated that he had made this distance in half an hour. He had clearedaway his cable, and had his anchor ready to throw overboard, when the hoarse croaking of a fog-horn attracted his attention. The sound came from the seaward side of him, and from a point not far distant.
The Rosabel was provided with one of those delectable musical instruments, whose familiar notes came to her skipper's ears. It was rather a necessity to have one, in order to avoid collisions; besides, it is fun for boys to make the most unearthly noises which mortal ear ever listened to.
Leopold blew his fog-horn, and it was answered by a repetition of the sound to seaward. The craft, whatever it was, from which the music came, was much nearer than when the skipper of the Rosabel first heard the signal. This satisfied him that she was headed to the north-east, and was nearly close-hauled, for the wind was about east; in other words, the craft from which the melody of the fog horn came was standing from the sea directly towards the ledges off High Rock.
Leopold blew his horn again and again, and the responses came nearer and nearer everytime. The craft was evidently bound up the bay, or into the Rockhaven river. If she was going to Rockland, or up the bay, she was very much out of her course. If she was going into the river, she was more likely to strike upon the ledge than to hit her port.
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" came a hoarse voice, apparently pitched from the note of the fog-horn.
The skipper of the Rosabel judged that the craft was not more than an eighth of a mile from him.
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" he shouted in reply, at the top of his voice.
Leopold had hauled down his jib, and thrown the sloop up into the wind, in preparation for anchoring; but he concluded not to do so, in view of the peril of being run down by the stranger. On the contrary he hoisted his jib, and filled away again, so as to be in condition to avoid a collision. Resuming his place at the helm, he stood out towards the fog-hidden vessel. The hail was repeated again and again, and Leopold as often answered it. In a few moments more he discovered what appeared to him to be the jib of a schooner. Her bow wasof shining black, with a richly gilded figure-head under the bowsprit. A moment later he discovered the two masts of the vessel. The mainsail was set, but the foresail was furled, and she was apparently feeling her way with great care into the bay. A sailor in uniform was heaving the lead near the fore rigging.
Leopold saw, as soon as he obtained a full view of the vessel, that she was a yacht of at least a hundred tons and as beautiful a craft as ever gladdened the heart of a sailor. There were a dozen men on her forecastle, and as the Rosabel approached her, a procession of gentlemen, closely muffled in heavy garments and rubber coats, filed up the companion-way, doubtless attracted to the deck by the incident of hailing another craft.
"Schooner, ahoy!" shouted Leopold, as soon as he had made out the vessel.
"On board the sloop!" replied the voice which resembled the tones of the fog-horn.
"Where you bound?" demanded the skipper of the Rosabel.
"Belfast."
"You are a long way off your course, then," added Leopold, with emphasis.
"Will you come on board?" asked the speaker from the yacht.
"Ay, ay, sir, if you wish it," answered Leopold.
"Hard down the helm!" shouted the hoarse voice, which we may as well say in advance of a nearer introduction, belonged to Captain Bounce, the sailing-master of the yacht.
"What schooner is that?" called Leopold, as the yacht came up into the wind.
"The yacht Orion, of New York," replied Captain Bounce.
The skipper of the Rosabel ran under the lee of the Orion, and came up into the wind all shaking. Leopold threw his painter to the uniformed seamen of the yacht, and then hauled down his jib.
"Where are we?" asked Captain Bounce, rather nervously for an old salt.
"Two miles off the High Rock ledges; you were headed directly for them," replied Leopold, as he let go the halyards of the mainsail.
When he had secured the sail, he ascended the accommodation steps, which the seaman had placed on the side for his use. One of thehands carried the painter of the Rosabel to the stern of the Orion.
"I don't know where we are now," said Captain Bounce, who was a short, stout man, with grizzly hair and beard, both reeking with moisture from the fog; and he looked like the typical old sea-dog of the drama.
"Do you know where we are, young man?" asked one of the gentlemen who had filed up the companion-way.
Leopold started suddenly when he heard the voice and turned towards the speaker.
"Of course I do, Mr. Hamilton," replied Leopold, briskly. "I reckon you don't know me, sir."
Leopold took off his old hat, and bowed respectfully to the gentleman, who was muffled up in an immense overcoat with a long cape.
"I do not," added the Hon. Mr. Hamilton, with a puzzled expression.
The skipper of the Rosabel thought it was very strange that the honorable gentleman did not recognize him; for he did not consider that he had grown three inches taller himself, and that the distinguished guest of the Cliff Housemet a great many people in the course of a year.
"Don't you know my boat, sir?" asked Leopold, laughing as he pointed astern at the sloop.
"I do not."
"Well, sir, that's the Rosabel. You have sailed in her more than once."
"O, this is Leopold, then!" exclaimed Mr. Hamilton. "You ought to know where we are."
"I do, sir; and I know that you were headed for the High Rock ledges. I can prick your position on the chart."
"He knows all about this coast, Captain Bounce," added Mr. Hamilton, turning to the Sailing-master. "He will be a safe pilot for you."
"Well youngster, we are bound to Belfast," said the sailing-master, thrusting his fists deep down into the pockets of his pea-jacket.
"I am not a pilot to Belfast," replied Leopold; "but you must keep her west-half-north for Owl's Head, nine miles from here. There are islands and ledges all around you."
"We have had enough of this sort of thing," interposed Mr. Hamilton, evidently disgusted with his experience. "We have been feeling our way in this fog for twenty-four hours. I would give a thousand dollars to be in Belfast at this moment."
"I don't believe the best pilot on the coast would agree to take this yacht up to Belfast in this fog for twice that sum," added Leopold. "One of the Bangor steamers, that goes over the route every day, got aground the other night."
"I never was on this coast before, Mr. Hamilton, as I told you before we sailed from New York," said Captain Bounce, apologetically; "but if I had been here all my life, I couldn't find my way in a sailing vessel in such a fog as this."
"O, I don't blame you Captain Bounce," added Mr. Hamilton, who was the owner of the yacht.
"I have kept you off the rocks so far; and that was the best I could do."
"You have done all that anybody could do, Captain Bounce, and I have no fault to find with you. But the ladies are very uncomfortable;they are wet, and everything in the cabin is wet with the moisture of this fog. We are very anxious to get to some good hotel, where we can remain till the fog has blown away," continued Mr. Hamilton.
"You can go into Rockhaven, sir," suggested Leopold.
The Hon. Mr. Hamilton smiled gloomily, and shrugged his shoulders, for he knew how limited were the accommodations in the old Cliff House.
"Your hotel would not hold us, Leopold," said Mr. Hamilton. "Our party consists of fifteen persons. We must get into Rockland, some how or other."
"We have a new hotel, Mr. Hamilton," interposed Leopold.
"What's that?"
"The Sea Cliff House. It is the Cliff House rebuilt and enlarged. We have fifty rooms now, besides new parlors and a new dining-room. The house has been furnished new, and my father means to keep a first-class hotel. He has raised the price to three dollars a day, so that he can afford to do so. We have some rooms built on purpose for you, sir."
"Indeed! But your father always kept a good house, though it was not big enough."
"You won't find any better hotel in Rockland or Belfast than the Sea Cliff House, Mr. Hamilton," said Leopold, confidently.
"Then let us go there by all means," added the owner of the Orion. "Can you take the yacht into the harbor, Leopold?"
"I can sir."
"Are you sure?"
"Certainly I am."
"We don't want to be thrown on the rocks."
"I can go into the river with my eyes shut, any time, sir."
"Very well. Captain Bounce, here is your pilot."
"All right Mr. Hamilton. All his orders shall be obeyed," replied the sailing-master.
"Hoist the jib, then, if you please, and head her to the north-east," added Leopold.
"To the north-east!" exclaimed Captain Bounce. "You said the ledges were in that direction."
"I know they are; but I can tell just where to find them."
"We are not anxious to find them," added the sailing-master.
"I am, for I take my bearings from them. Trust me as your best friend, Captain Bounce, and you shall throw over your mud-hook, in just an hour from now, in the river, off Rockhaven."
"All right; the owner says you are the pilot, and I haven't a word to say," replied the captain. "Forward there! Hoist the jib! At the helm!"
"Helm, sir!" replied the quarter-master.
"Keep her north-east."
"North-east, sir."
Leopold turned at that moment, and discovered a bundle of shawls and water-proofs emerging from the companion-way.
"Leopold Bennington! I'm glad to see you!" exclaimed the bundle, in a voice which the young pilot promptly identified as that of Miss Rosabel Hamilton.
"Thank you, Miss Hamilton. I'm happy to see you again," stammered Leopold, rushing up to the bundle, in which he could hardly make out the beautiful face and form of Rosabel.
"You have come to get us out of an awful bad scrape. We have no fire in the cabin, and are wet through, and nearly frozen. I'm so glad we met you!"
"I'm glad to meet you too," said Leopold. "I'm sure I didn't expect to see you out in this fog. But I'm the pilot of this yacht now and if you will excuse me, I will go forward, and attend to my duty."
"Certainly. Don't let me keep you," answered Rosabel, in those sweet, silvery tones which made Leopold's heart jump. "I shall be so glad when we can see a good, warm fire!"
The young pilot did not like to leave her; but he felt the responsibility of the position he had assumed, and he hastened forward. The Orion was moving along through the water at the rate of about four knots an hour. Leopold walked out on the bowsprit as far as the jibstay, and there seated himself. Rosabel, apparently deeply interested in his movements, followed him as far as the forecastle.
"What are you going to do out there, Leopold?" she asked.
"I'm going to keep a lookout for the ledges,which are ahead of us; and as I have to use my ears, I must ask you not to speak to me any more. Excuse me, but I might not hear the breakers soon enough, if I were talking," added the pilot.
Rosabel excused him, and returned to the cabin, for the cold fog made her shiver, even within her bundle of clothing. Leopold listened with all his might, and in less than half an hour he heard the surges on the ledges, faintly, at first, in the distance.
"Breakers ahead!" shouted Captain Bounce.
"I know it; trust your best friend and don't be alarmed," replied Leopold. "There is water enough here to float a seventy-four."
He allowed the Orion to proceed on her course, till he could hear very distinctly the breakers on the ledges, and was sure they were the High Rock ledges.
"Starboard the helm, and start your sheets," shouted the pilot.
"High time, I should say," growled Captain Bounce, as he gave the necessary orders, and the Orion fell off to her new course.
"Keep her north-west," added Leopold, as he just saw the ledges whitened with sea foam.
He still retained his position on the bowsprit, with his attention fixed upon some point on the weather-bow.
"That's it! Dip point!" said he, as he listened to the breakers. "Keep her nor'-nor'-west!"
Ten minutes later, he ordered the fog-horn to be blown, and a reply came off from the light-house on the point, at the mouth of the river. When the Orion was clear of the point, he directed the yacht to be close-hauled on the starboard tack, in order to beat into the river. The first reach brought her to the high cliff near the hotel, and after a "short leg," he fetched the anchorage off the wharf.
"Let go your jib-halyards!" shouted Leopold. "Hard down the helm! Let go the anchor!"
The Orion swung round to her cable, and the pilot went aft.
During the run of the Orion, from the time that Leopold assumed the charge of her till the anchor buried itself in the mud of the river, the owner and the passengers remained in the cabin. They were all city people, and to them the fog was even more disagreeable than a heavy rain. It was cold and penetrating, and the pleasure-seekers found it impossible to remain on deck. They were actually shivering with cold, and perhaps for the first time in their lives realized what a blessing the sunshine is. But Captain Bounce was on deck, and, standing on the forecastle, he nervously watched the progress of the yacht. Doubtless he felt belittled at finding himself placed under the orders of a mere boy, even though the pilot was as polite as a French dancing-master.