Great was the bustle and excitement at the wreckers' quarters. The day happened to be particularly favourable for embarking—such a day, in fact, as might not come once in a month; and everything must be done to make the most of it. But the very beauty of the day gave evidence of approaching change. It was what the seafaring folk call a "weather-breeder," because such lovely days are always followed by storm.
None knew this better than the wreckers. They made all haste to transfer themselves and their booty to the schooner. In keen anxiety Eric watched the work going on. No one seemed to notice him, though several times he caught Evil-Eye regarding him with such a look of fiendish triumph as sent a shiver to his heart.
Ben, who had his own interests to care for, cheered him a little by clapping him on the back as he passed, and saying, in his most encouraging tone,—
"Keep up your heart, my lad. We'll manage it somehow."
But the removal of the booty was almost complete, and still he did not know his fate. Only another boat-load of stuff remained to be taken off, and in the boat that came for this were Ben, Evil-Eye, and the captain of the schooner. Eric stood near the landing-place with Prince beside him. He knew that his future hung upon what might be decided within a few minutes.
The boat was loaded, and the crew stood ready to launch her into the breakers. Now came the critical moment. How far the matter might have been discussed already Eric had no idea. He saw Ben draw the captain aside and engage him in earnest conversation, while Evil-Eye hung about as though he burned to put in a word.
His heart almost stopped beating as he watched the captain's face. Evidently he was not unmoved by Ben's arguments. His countenance showed he was wavering, and his opposition weakening.
With rising hope, Eric noted this. Evil-Eye saw it too, but with different feelings. He thought it time to interfere, and, drawing nearer, began, in a loud, half-threatening tone,—
"Say, now, captain—"
But before he could get out another word Ben wheeled round, his face aflame with anger. Rising to his utmost height, he drew a pistol from his belt, and pointing it straight at Evil-Eye's breast, roared out,—
"Hold that tongue of yours,Isay, or I'll put a bullet through your heart before you can wink."
With a start of terror the ruffian shrank away from the giant who towered above him, and satisfied that he would not venture to interpose again, Ben resumed his talk with the captain. For a little longer the dialogue continued. What the arguments were that Ben used, or what inducements he offered, Eric did not learn until afterwards. But, oh! what a bound his heart gave when Ben left the captain and came toward him, his face so full of relief as to seem almost radiant.
"It's all right, my lad," said he, grasping him by the shoulder and pushing him toward the boat. "You're to come. Let's hurry up now and get on board."
Too overjoyed to speak, Eric hastened to obey, giving Ben a look of unspeakable gratitude as he clasped his hand with passionate fervour. Evil-Eye scowled terribly when the boy sprang into the boat, and dared only mutter his protests, for clearly enough Ben was in no mood for trifling, and the captain was evidently quite on his side.
Without waiting for an invitation, Prince promptly leaped in beside his young master, at which the men in the boat laughed, and the captain said good-humouredly,—
"Let him come too. He's too good to leave behind."
In a few minutes more, Eric, with a feeling of glad relief beyond all power of words to express, stood upon the schooner's deck and looked back at the island which for well nigh half a year had been his prison—almost his grave.
The low, broad, weather-beaten hut was easily visible. "How good God was to protect me there!" he thought, as he recalled the many scenes of violence he had witnessed. "I wonder what is to become of me. Poor father must have given me up for dead long ago. Shall I ever get to him?"
With many a "Yo! heave ho!" the sailors set about raising the anchor, the schooner's broad wings were hoisted to catch the breeze already blowing, and soon she was speeding away southward toward Boston.
They had just got well under way when, happening to glance around, Eric, who was standing in the bow enjoying the swift rush of the schooner through the foaming water, noticed a number of the wreckers and the crew gathered about the captain on the poop. They were examining something very carefully through his telescope. Following the direction of the glass, Eric could make out a dark object rising out of the water, several miles away on the port side. This was evidently the cause of the men's concern. Almost unconsciously he drew near the group, in order to hear what they were saying. The captain just then handed the telescope to Evil-Eye.
His face darkened with rage as he said, "It's one of those British brigs, and no mistake, and she's running right across our course. If we keep on this way we'll fall right into her clutches. Look you, Evil-Eye, and see if I'm not right."
Evil-Eye took the glass and looked long and carefully. It was clear enough that he came to the same conclusion as the captain, for one of his most hideous scowls overspread his countenance as he growled out,—
"It's the brig, and no mistake, and we're running straight into her jaws. We'll have to go about and sail off shore, captain."
At once the captain roared out his orders, and the sailors sprang to obey. There was a rattling of blocks, a creaking of booms, a fierce flapping of canvas. After a moment's hesitation in the eye of the wind, the schooner gracefully fell off, and was soon gliding away on the other tack, with the brig now almost directly astern.
Whatever doubt there may have been on board the brig as to the propriety of pursuing the schooner was dissipated by its sudden change of course; and, still distant though she was, a keen eye could make out that they were hoisting additional sails and making every effort to overtake the schooner.
There were yet three hours of daylight, and the brig was evidently a fast sailer. The schooner's chance of escape lay in keeping her well astern until night came on, and then, by a sudden change of course, slipping away from her in the darkness.
Every inch of canvas the schooner boasted was clapped on her, and, almost buried in foam, she rushed madly through the water.
Eric's first feeling, on seeing the brig, and the fear created among his captors, was of intense joy, and he watched its steady growth upon the horizon with eager anxiety. He did not notice the ominous looks cast upon him by Evil-Eye and others, until Ben, whose eyes seemed to miss nothing, drew him away to his former post near the bows, saying, in a deep undertone,—
"Come with me, lad. I want a word with you."
Ben's countenance showed that he was much troubled, and Eric, full of hope though he was at the near prospect of his own deliverance, could not help feeling as though it were very selfish of him, for it certainly meant that Ben would be placed in danger. He determined in his own mind that if the brig should capture the schooner, he would plead so hard for his kind rescuer that no harm would be done him.
"Will the brig catch up to us, Ben?" he asked eagerly. "Do you think it will?"
"It'll be a bad business for you, my lad, if it does," answered Ben, in an unusually gruff tone.
"Why, Ben, what do you mean?" asked Eric, in surprise.
"Mean what I say," retorted Ben. Then, after a moment's silence, he went on: "Captain says that brig's been sent from Halifax after us, and nobody else; and if she should catch us, you may be sure the wreckers ain't going to leave you round to tell the people on the brig all you know about them. Before the brig's alongside they'll drop you over the bulwark with a weight that'll prevent your ever showing up on top again."
At these words, whose truth Eric realized at once, his heart seemed turned to stone. And now, just as passionately as he had prayed that the brig might overtake them, did he pray that the schooner might keep out of its reach.
In the meantime, the two vessels were tearing through the water without much change in their relative positions.
Darkness was drawing near. As the sun went down, the change that the beauty of the morning foreboded took place. The sky grew cloudy, the wind blew harder, and there was every sign of an approaching storm.
As luck would have it, this state of affairs suited the schooner far better than the brig. With great exultation the wreckers noted that their pursuer was shortening sail. The square-rigged bark could not stand a storm as well as could the schooner.
"Hurrah!" the captain shouted gleefully. "They're taking in some of their canvas. They can't stand this blow with so much top-hamper. We'll show them a clean pair of heels yet."
And so it turned out. With bow buried in foam and decks awash the schooner staggered swiftly onward under full press of sail, although every moment the canvas threatened to tear itself out of the bolts. Before the darkness enveloped her the brig had disappeared behind, completely distanced. Everybody on board breathed more freely. Setting a course that, by a wide detour, would bring him in due time to Boston, the captain took satisfaction by cursing the brig for causing him the loss of a whole day at least.
That night Ben, for the first time, told Eric what had been arranged concerning him. On their arrival in Boston he was to be kept hidden in the hold until the time came for the sailing of a ship for England, about which the captain knew. He would be placed on board this ship as cabin boy. When she reached her destination he might make his way to his friends the best he could. By that time the wreckers (none of whom intended to return to Sable Island) would have disposed of their booty, and scattered beyond all possibility of being caught.
Ben did not add, as he might have done, that in order to effect this arrangement he had to bribe the captain, by turning over to him one-half of his own interest in the schooner's cargo.
After living in peril of death for so many months, this plan filled Eric's heart with joy. It might mean many more hardships, but it also meant return to those who were now mourning him as dead. He thanked Ben over and over again, assuring him he would never forget his wonderful kindness; and as Ben listened in silence there was a distinct glistening in the corner of his eye that showed he was not unmoved.
The storm blew itself out during the night, and was followed by a steady breeze, which bore the schooner along so fast that ere the sun went down on the following afternoon she was gliding up Boston Bay, looking as innocent as any ordinary fishing schooner. The anchor plunged with a big splash into the still water, the chain rattled noisily through the hawse-hole, and the voyage was ended.
Without delay a boat was lowered. The captain and Evil-Eye got into it, inviting Ben to accompany them, but he declined. He intended to watch over Eric until he should be taken to the English ship. The boat rowed off, and before it returned Eric was sound asleep.
He was awakened by the singing of the men as they toiled at the windlass, and the sullen rattle of the chain as it rose reluctantly link by link from the water. Then he heard the waves rippling against the bow, and he knew that the schooner was moving.
As he rightly guessed, she was making her way to her berth at the wharf. During all that day there was continual motion on the deck, and the boy imprisoned in the hold tried to while away the long hours by guessing what it meant, and what the sailors were about. Ben brought him a bountiful breakfast, dinner, and tea. He stayed only while Eric ate, and did not seem much disposed to talk. He could not say exactly when the English ship would sail, but thought it would be soon.
The schooner became much quieter by nightfall, for the majority of her crew had gone ashore. Soon there was perfect stillness; the vessel at times seemed to be completely deserted. There was a tower clock not far away which rang out the hours loudly, and Eric heard seven, eight, and nine struck ere he fell asleep.
How long he had slept he knew not, when he was aroused by two men talking in loud tones on the deck just above him. They were evidently the worse for liquor, and had fallen into a dispute about something. Presently one of them exclaimed,—
"It is there. I know it's there. I'll prove it to you."
Then came the sound of the fore-hatch being unfastened and lifted aside, and the light of a lantern flashed into the hold. Whatever the man sought, he soon found it; for he said triumphantly,—
"There, now! Do you see it? Didn't I say right?"
He drew the hatch back again, and with his companion went stumbling off to the cabin. As the hatch was opened, Eric shrank back into a corner, for he knew not what the man might be about. But when all was silent again, he crept to the spot underneath the hatchway, and looked up.
The instant he did so he saw something that caused his heart to give a wild bound. It was one little star shining brightly into his eye. The sailor had carelessly left the hatch unfastened and drawn a little aside.
The way of escape was there!
With bated breath and beating heart, Eric raised himself softly and pushed at the hatch. At first it would not budge, but on his putting forth more strength, it slid away a few inches, making no perceptible noise.
Little by little he pushed at it, until there was space enough for him to pass through. Then, with extreme caution, he lifted himself until he could survey the deck, and peered eagerly into the darkness to see if any of the men were about. There was no moon, but the stars shone their brightest; and as the boy's eyes were accustomed to the darkness, he could see fairly well.
It was easy for him to swing himself up on the deck. Then, crouched in the deep shadow of the foremast, he looked anxiously about him. Not a soul was in sight. Not a sound disturbed the still air. The black line of the wharf rose but a few feet above the bulwarks. Gliding noiselessly across, he finally got upon the rail, and thence, with an active spring, upon the wharf. He was free!
The wharf was as deserted and silent as the schooner's deck. Along one side was piled a line of casks and barrels, behind which he crept with the quietness of a cat until the tall warehouses were reached; then, straightening himself up, he moved more rapidly until he came out upon the street, which opened to right and left, leading away into the darkness—whither, he knew not.
Taking the right turning, he hastened on, resolved to appeal for protection to the first respectable-looking person he might meet. By the dim light of infrequent oil-lamps at the corners, he could make out that he was in a street of shops, taverns, and warehouses.
Some of the taverns were still open, but all the other buildings were closed. Very few persons were about, and as these all appeared to be seafaring folk he carefully avoided them, keeping in the shadow of porches and alley-ways until they passed. He was in a state of high excitement—his anxiety to find some safe refuge contending with joy at his escape from the wreckers' clutches.
He must have gone about a quarter of a mile, when, just as he approached a tavern that was still in full blast, the door suddenly opened, and a broad band of light fell upon the pavement, in the midst of which appeared Evil-Eye, roaring out a drunken song as he beckoned to others inside to follow him.
For an instant Eric stood rooted to the spot with terror. His limbs seemed powerless. Then, as quick as a squirrel, he darted into a dark alley at his right, and, trembling like an aspen leaf, waited for Evil-Eye to pass. The drunken scoundrel lingered for what seemed an hour of agony to the terror-stricken boy; but at length, being joined by his companions, staggered off toward the schooner. The boy, coming out from his retreat as soon as the coast was clear, made all haste in the other direction.
Following up the street, which turned and twisted in the puzzling fashion peculiar to Boston, he was glad to find it leading him to the upper part of the city; and after fifteen minutes' smart walking, he came out into a broad avenue, lined on both sides with handsome houses. Here he would surely meet with some one to whom he could safely tell his story.
Weary from excitement and exertion, he sat down upon a broad doorstep, which was in the shadow itself, but commanded a stretch of sidewalk illuminated by a street lamp. He thought he would rest there a while, and in the meantime some one would surely come along. Just as he sat down, the bell of a church-tower clock near by slowly tolled out the midnight hour.
"Oh, gracious! how late it is!" he sighed. "I do hope I shall not have to stay here all the night!"
A few minutes later he heard the sound of approaching steps. They were slow and deliberate, not those of an unsteady reveller. They came nearer and nearer, and then there emerged into the line of light the figure of a man, tall and stately, wrapped in a black dress, over whose cloak collar fell long locks of snow-white hair.
Not a moment did Eric hesitate. Springing from his hiding-place with a suddenness that caused the passer-by to start in some alarm, he caught hold of the ample cloak, and, lifting up his face to the wearer, said beseechingly, "Oh, sir, won't you help me?"
Quite reassured on seeing how youthful was this sudden disturber of his homeward walk, the gentleman looked down at the eager, pleading face, and, attracted at once by its honesty, put his hand kindly upon the boy's shoulder, saying,—
"Pray, what is the matter, my son? I will gladly help you, as may be within my power."
The grave, gentle words, with their assurance of protection, wrought a quick revulsion in poor Eric's feelings, strained as they had been for so long to their highest pitch. Instead of replying at once, he burst into tears; and his new-found friend, seeing that he had no ordinary case to deal with, took him by the arm, and soothingly said,—
"Come with me. My house is near by. You shall tell me your story there."
Directing his steps to a large house, in which lights were still burning, he led Eric into a room whose walls were lined with rows of portly volumes.
"Now, my son," said he, "be seated; and when you feel more composed, tell me your troubles. I am quite at your service."
With a delicious sense of security, such as he had not felt for many months, Eric sank into a big armchair, and proceeded to tell his strange story to the grave old gentleman before him. With intense interest and sympathy did Dr. Saltonstall listen to the remarkable narrative as it was simply related, putting in a question now and then when he wanted fuller details. As soon as the boy had finished, the doctor arose and again put on his hat and cloak.
"Master Copeland," said he, "this is a communication of the utmost importance, and it must be laid before the governor this very night, that immediate action thereon may be taken. I had but lately left his honour when, in God's good providence, I met you. We will go at once to his mansion. Haply he has not yet retired for the night."
Forthwith the two set out, and, walking rapidly, were soon at the governor's mansion. Fortunately he was still awake, and at once gave audience to his late visitors. Before him Eric rehearsed his story. The Honourable Mr. Strong listened with no less interest than had Dr. Saltonstall; nor was he less prompt in taking action. His secretary was summoned, and orders given for a strong posse of constables to be despatched without loss of time in search of the schooner.
Eric so fully described her that the finding of her would be an easy matter.
But while this was being arranged, a thought flashed into Eric's mind which filled him with great concern. Ben was, no doubt, upon the schooner now, and would be captured with the others. Would he not then share their fate, whatever that might be? And if so, would not Eric seem to be wickedly ungrateful if he made no effort to save him? Then there was also his faithful friend Prince, to whom both Ben and himself were so much indebted.
To think was to act. Going manfully up to the austere-looking governor, he put in a passionate plea for the big man and the dog, who had been such faithful protectors, and but for whom, indeed, he would not then be living. His honour was evidently touched by his loyal advocacy.
"Do not distress your mind, my lad," said he kindly. "I have no doubt we can find a way of escape for your friend. He certainly deserves consideration at our hands, and your noble Prince shall be carefully sought for."
The remainder of the story is soon told. The schooner was readily found. The wreckers, surprised in their bunks, proved an easy capture, and before daybreak all were safely locked up in jail. Prince was also found and restored to the delighted Eric, who now felt as though his cup of rejoicing was full. The trial of the wreckers excited widespread interest, and made Eric the hero of the hour. Ben, taking the advice of Dr. Saltonstall, turned state's evidence, and was released. But the other wreckers—from Evil-Eye to Black Joe—received the punishment they had so well merited.
In the meantime Dr. Copeland had been sent for, and, hastening to Boston, he had the supreme delight of clasping to his breast the boy whom he had all through the long winter been mourning as lost to him for ever. The meeting between father and son was touching. It seemed as though the doctor could never sufficiently assure himself that it was really his Eric who stood before him, browner of face and bigger of form, but otherwise unchanged by his thrilling experiences among the Wreckers of Sable Island.
THE END
In the Wilds of the West Coast. A Story of North America. Price 5s.
Baffling the Blockade. Price 3s. 6d.
My Strange Rescue. And Other Stories of Sport and Adventure in Canada. Price 3s. 6d.
Diamond Rock; or, On the Right Track. Price 3s. 6d.
Up Among the Ice-Floes. Price 3s. 6d.
Making His Way. Price 2s. 6d.
The Young Woodsman; or, Life in the Forests of Canada. Price 1s. 6d.
The Wreckers of Sable Island. Price 1s.
Every Inch a Sailor. By GORDON-STABLES, M.D., R.N. With Illustrations. Price 5s.
How Jack Mackenzie Won His Epaulettes. By GORDON-STABLES, M.D., R.N. With Six Illustrations by A. PEARCE. Price 3s. 6d.
Kilgorman. A Story of Ireland in 1798. By TALBOT BAINES REED. Illustrated by JOHN WILLIAMSON. Price 6s.
Boris the Bear-Hunter. A Story of Peter the Great and His Times. By FRED. WHISHAW. Illustrated by W. S. STACEY. Price 3s. 6d.
A Lost Army. By FRED. WHISHAW. With Six Illustrations by W. S. STACEY. Price 3s. 6d.
Harold the Norseman. By FRED. WHISHAW. With Illustrations. Price 3s. 6d.
The Fugitives. A Story of Siberia. By FRED. WHISHAW. With Illustrations. Price 2s. 6d.
Chris Willoughby; or, Against the Current. By FLORENCE E. BURCH. Price 3s. 6d.
Doing and Daring. A New Zealand Story. By ELEANOR STREDDER. Price 3s. 6d.
Illustrated. In Crown 8vo Vols., cloth extra, gilt edges. 5s. each.In uniform Binding, cloth. Price 4s. each.
In the Wilds of Africa.The Young Rajah.In the Eastern Seas.On the Banks of the Amazon.In the Wilds of Florida.My First Voyage to Southern Seas.Old Jack.A Sea Tale.Saved from the Sea.The South Sea Whaler.Twice Lost.A Voyage Round the World.The Wanderers.The Young Llanero.
Illustrated. In Post 8vo Volumes. Price 3s. 6d. each.
Afar in the Forest.In New Granada.In the Rocky Mountains.
In Post 8vo Volumes. Price 2s. 6d. each.
Norseland Tales. By H. H. BOYESEN.Leaves from a Middy's Log. By ARTHUR LEE KNIGHT.Sons of the Vikings. An Orkney Story. By JOHN GUNN.The Hermit Princes. By ELEANOR STREDDER.
In attractive Binding, from entirely new Designs in Gold and Colours.Cloth extra, gilt edges. With Illustrations.
Price 3s. 6d. each.
New Edition, with Finely Coloured Frontispiece and Title Page.
Price 2s. 6d. each.
The Coral Island. A Tale of the Pacific.
The Young Fur-Traders; or, Snowflakes and Sunbeams from the Far North.
The World of Ice. Adventures in the Polar Regions.
The Gorilla Hunters. A Tale of the Wilds of Africa.
Martin Rattler. A Boy's Adventures in the Forests of Brazil.
Ungava. A Tale of Esquimau Land.
The Dog Crusoe and His Master. A Story of Adventure on the Western Prairies.
Hudson Bay; or, Everyday Life in the Wilds of North America, during a Six Years' Residence in the Territories of the Hon. Hudson Bay Company. With short Memoir and Portrait and Twenty-nine Illustrations drawn by BAYARD and other Artists, from Sketches by the Author.
In Crown 8vo volumes, cloth extra, gilt edges. Price 5s, each.
Cloth extra. Price 4s. each.
Jack Hooper. His Adventures at Sea and in South Africa. By VERNEY LOVETT CAMERON, C.B., D.C.L.
With Pack and Rifle in the Far South-West. Adventures in New Mexico, Arizona, and Central America. By ACHILLES DAUNT.
In Savage Africa; or, The Adventures of Frank Baldwin from the Gold Coast to Zanzibar. By VERNEY LOVETT CAMERON, C.B., D.C.L.
Early English Voyagers; or, The Adventures and Discoveries of Drake, Cavendish, and Dampier.
Under the Lone Star. With Eight Illustrations by W. S. STACEY. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, bevelled boards, gilt top. Price 6s.
Clevely Sahib: A Tale of the Khyber Pass. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt top. Price 5s.
In Post 8vo volumes, cloth extra. Price 2s. 6d. each.
Through Forest and Fire. By EDWARD S. ELLIS.On the Trail of the Moose. By EDWARD S. ELLIS.Across Texas. By EDWARD S. ELLIS.The Cabin in the Clearing. A Tale of the Far West.By EDWARD S. ELLIS.
In Post 8vo Volumes, cloth extra. Price 2s. each.
Across Greenland's Ice-Fields. The Adventures of Nansen and Peary on the Great Ice-Cap. By M. DOUGLAS. With Illustrations.
As We Sweep Through the Deep. A Story of the Stirring Times of Old. By GORDON-STABLES, M.D., R.N. With Illustrations.
The Battle of the Rafts. And Other Stories of Boyhood in Norway. By H. H. BOYESEN.
After Years. A Story of Trials and Triumphs. By J. W. BRADLEY. With Illustrations.
Among the Turks. By VERNEY LOVETT CAMERON, C.B., D.C.L. With Illustrations.
Archie Digby; or, An Eton Boy's Holidays. By G. E. WYATT.
At the Black Rocks. A Story for Boys. By the Rev. EDWARD A. RAND.
Culm Rock; or, Ready Work for Willing Hands. A Book for Boys. By J. W. BRADLEY. With Engravings.
Lost in the Wilds of Canada. By ELEANOR STREDDER.
The Willoughby Boys. By EMILY C. HARTLEY.