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sung blood light within her heart, and she sang to which might help the “trade," which was all done erself as she went ; the beautiful fresh young face in a gambling sort of way, rich one day, half-ruined oking even brighter than usual, for she felt as if the next, and he determined to make a great effort. I must come right.
He went down to Roland, who was hard at work # The summer flower is to the summer sweet.
in the sheds behind the house “ suppering up” and Though by itself it lives and dies unknown,"
" littering down "the cattle, safe, as his father saw, zys one of the Shakespeare sonnets. I hope, there from all chance of hearing the news. He came ore, that the summer enjoyed its human flower close up to the heifer which Roland was driving in, lso, for there was no one else to do so, and it was a pinched it scientifically, and said, ity, for the sight was a very fair one. She turned “ Ye'll tak' her betimes to-morrow to Farmer tome, having filled her little can and gathered moss Stodge's, as I promised un when he were this way ; o pack the fruit in, picking a bilberry here and and then I was a thinking, Roland, as 't would be a here as she went, and putting it into her mouth as good job for thee to go to t other side York, to he smiled at the recollection of the many scrapes Mitchell's, as sould me the last lot o'runts, and see which she and German had got into on this part of and manage about not paying the money. And the moor, — playing truant from work, their little there's a horsedealer, Jackman, as worries me sore mouths, blackened with the stains of the tell-tale about a heap o' things down there. Nobody can't bilberry, revealing their iniquities, when in the manage it but you, Roland,” said his father, who distance she saw Nanny Elmes coming up the green had a persuasive way with him when he chose. “I lane leading to the Old Hall.
| canna go mysen. I mun pick up summat i'th' way It was so short a time since the old woman had o'nags at the big fair at Hawksley; but if it can been with them, that a cold chill of fear came over be done, you 'll do it, and things is out and out bad Cassie that something must have gone wrong, and wi' me this time.” she hurried forwards anxiously.
Joshua had always kept his son in the dark as “ Your uncle sends ye word, my lass, that your to his affairs; but his uneasiness this time was real. aunt ha' had a 'plexy stroke, and ye mun come “ There's Martha Savage had a very tidy portion down as fast as mid be an ye would see her alive. left her,” he went on, “ when her husband died ; I were to ha' letted ye know last night, but I were 't would be very convenient now. Could n't ye tak so late, and I darena come up the lone moor by to her, Roland ? She's a pair o'smartish black eyes, night, for 't is a very boggety bit,” said Nanny. and hur's a rare un to manage a house, and nimble
Cassie gave a little cry; her flowery visions o'foot." seemed to melt away as under a frost, and then her “Ay, and wi’ her tongue, too. But ye'd best conscience reproached her that her next thought leave yon alone, father. I'd not wed wi’ her an should be, not of her poor aunt, but the personal she'd the Bank o’England to her fortune, and were one that if she went to Youlcliffe she might see Ro- as pretty as Queen Esther in her royal robes." land again.
Joshua was beginning to feel that there was a cerAshford was sitting in the kitchen, much "put tain point beyond which even he did not dare to about” by the news, and therefore as obstinate as urge his son, “ quiet” as he thought him to be, and possible. He seemed to take pleasure in declaring he hurried him off very early, before Cassandra that Cassie should not go, a sufficient number of could reach Youlcliffe, going with him himself the times to prevent her thinking him too kind. And first few miles for better security. he probably would have held to it, but Nanny “I'm not particular to a day or two about your Elmes was an authority and came to the rescue. coming back, Roland ; 't ain 't often ye get an out,"
“ She's struck for death, and Cassie mun go he said at parting to his unconscious son. quickly or she 'll never see her again. Go and put “ It's all for his good," he said to himself, as he on thee bonnet, child," said she, as if it were a returned slowly home alone. Whenever we do anymatter of course, — which carried the day, and thing particularly selfish and ill-natured, we always Cassie set off for Youlcliffe on her sad errand with find out that it is all for somebody's advantage. We a strange mixture of joy and sorrow in her heart. so far pay homage to the good within us as to tell it
Meantime Joshua, the shrewd and wary, had a lie. It is not quite so silly as to believe us, but it happened to hear of Mrs. Broom's illness before his is a little stupefied. son. He was standing on the high stone steps lead He was quite successful in his plans. The unsusing to his door that same evening when a small boy pecting Roland was leaving Youlcliffe by one road appeared at the foot.
as Cassandra approached it by another. * What do ye want, little un ?” said he, looking When she at length reached her aunt there was down superciliously.
little consciousness left. The old woman lay in a " Where's Roland ? " replied the small messen- sort of sleep, painless and quiet; and although she ger. “Bessie Broom have had a fit, and the doc- often spoke, the bystanders could not be sure that tor's away to Stoneaton, they says, and Nathan she recognized them. Pleasant, kindly words they thowt that mebbe Roland would ride over for un. were which she uttered, like herself, but the unseen Eh, but there is the doctor come home hissen, so it world seemed to be closing round her. She talked, don't matter now!" said the boy, who had not hur- but it seemed to be chiefly with those who were ried himself with his message.
gone, - her father, mother, and sister, who had been Joshua immediately determined to get his son out dead for years. of harm's way. “ For to be sure, Cassie 'll be down It was a gentle dismissal. As Cassie sat in the to see her aunt d'rectly," said he to himself.
dimly-lighted chamber, watching the waning life After his fashion he was proud and fond of his ebbing slowly away, she involuntarily looked towboy. He had given him some education : Roland ards the door, and started at every fresh voice down could read, and write, and cipher, - at that time stairs, hoping to see Roland, longing for a word or not common accomplishments, of which his father a sign. It was many months since the meeting made much use. He had a sort of general notion under the fern on the steep hillside, and she began of his son's making a grand marriage with money, to have the cold shiver of doubt which absence
a general order to every one present, as id II. — THE BERKSHIRE COACH COMES IN.
were all his crew. “ You fellows, there, give d WHAT a stir there was at the Commodore's house wagon a turn to the larboard. That 'll do." an hour before the London coach came in. The The coach was piled with trunks and said best tea-things were put out; that worthy old woman, chests. A boyish figure beside the red-faced gua Mrs. Ladd, had polished the copper tea-kettle, to who was blowing his horn cheerily and with within an inch of its life; the grate shone like silver. spirit, stood up and waved his straw hat. Ex Charley's mother, in her clean cap, looked, as the Charley. The coach drew up with a jerk. 1 Commodore gallantly observed,“ twenty years boy was laughing, his eyes sparkling, his ches younger.” As for the old pilot's niece, Kitty, — the glowing at seeing Kitty. prettiest, trimmest little girl in Dover, she was a lo “Hurrah ! father, - hurrah for home! How to picture of coquettish neatness, with just a pink rib- do, mother? - how d'ye do, dear cousin Kitt** bon fluttering about her neck and from her bonnet, cried the boy, as he shook hands with the great to give life and color to the clean blue-sprigged | burly coachman, and swung himself down as hy print gown.
a boy could have done. In a moment the curs "Muffins ! Good," said the Commodore, looking haired, bright, yet manly boy, full of life and ani round the table, as he solemnly put on his cocked tion, was kissing and being kissed. hat, as a signal that the Blue Peter was hoisted for “How he is grown," said the Commoder starting. « Tea out ? — good; sugar ? — right. proudly chucking him under the chin. “Horby Come, old woman, — Kitty, put the fire-guard on.is grown; why, he'll be six feet high. Charles Come, both of you, lower handsomely. Bear a hand, you'll never be able to stand upright betweca mother, come. I'd rather lose a thousand pounds, decks."
- and that's a handsome offer, — than miss meet- « He'll be an admiral, - he's made for an adni ing Charley to-night at the General Wolfe. Come, ral," said the delighted mother. Kitty, say good by to the looking-glass, you little “Of course he will, - dear Charley," said kitty jade; Charley will lose his heart quite soon enough, “ Where is your chest, Charley ? Come, los take my word for it. Come, all of you, or I'll alive, the coach 'll be off. Come, Jarvey. When masthead every man Jack, and leave you both be- is the boy's chest ? Leave it for us in Townwal hind."
| Street, there's a good man." The Commodore carefully squared his huge cocked! A slight cloud came over the boy's handsome hat, brushed up the black cockade at the side, pulled face; his blue eyes darkened. " Father,” he said. down the red cuffs of his blue uniform coat, took “I must go on to the town with the coach; For down his gilt-headed cane, and with his wife on one won't be angry, I know. There is a poor sick gen arm and his niece on the other, sallied forth for the tleman, a Mr. Johnson, inside the coach, and I're inn outside the town, where the London coach promised to see him to an inn. You walk hout made a point of stopping.
with mother and Kitty." When they reached the inn a soldier or two and The Commodore looked inside the coach: there some rough, suspicious-looking sailors and carters, in the corner leaned a tall, thin man, his pale face with a wagon, were already there waiting for the hidden with wrappers that came up almost to the coach.
| peak of the fur travelling-cap he wore drawn dow “She's late; five minutes late," said one of the over his eyes. When the boy took his thin, white hostlers. By “she,” he meant the coach.
| hand, he waved it towards the Commodore. “0, I do hope there's been no accident,” said Mrs. “ He is too ill to speak," said the boy ; " last Ladd.
stage of consumption; going on to-morrow to his “O don't, dear aunt," said Kate, with a pretty friends at Sandwich. You 'il be at home, mother, little shudder; “pray don't talk so."
almost as soon as I shall. Now then, guard." “ They have n't allowed for the wind," said the Away dashed the coach. The Commodore looked Commodore, oracularly. "It's blowing up now for a little discomfited. such a stiff breeze as you don't often see on these “Well, he's a good heart, that boy," he said, coasts.”
" but I think he might have left the sick fellow to the “ That's right, Commodore," said one of the sail- waiters at the Ship Hotel. What do they get their ors, a well-known smuggler, and of the worst of money for, if they can't be civil to a sick man! characters. “That privateer they saw this morn- A rope's end and short rations is what they want. ing will never get home while this wind lasts.” Come, mother, - come, Kitty. I think there's
* All the better if she does n't,” was the rough something wrong in the top rigging of that pale reply. “What matters about her, or twenty French chap inside the coach, for I certainly saw him bom thieves? We sha'n't miss them,- at least I sha'n't to that rough lot in the wagon, and they laughed. miss 'em, — for, ye see, I don't get my brandy from I wish, somehow, mother, I had made Charley come them.”
with us." " That's a shot between wind and water, Jack, for you,” said another sailor. “You'd better not
III. -- GENERAL DESTOUCHES. try and overhaul the Commodore, he's too heavy The coach had arrived ; the passengers got dowo. for you."
Slowly and feebly the sick man descended, and was Suddenly there came a moving cloud of dust helped by the boy into a hackney-coach. down the road, then a gleam of lamps, and lastly “You will not leave me yet," said the sick man became visible the London coach, its four horses in a whisper, as he clutched the boy's hand nervouisgoing at a racing pace.
ly. “It is but ten minutes more ; I am not yet safe. " There's the coach, uncle," cried Kitty, clapping No, -- I want you to reply for me in case I am her hands, — "there's the coach, uncle.
stopped. Would you ever forgive yourself if they " Here's Charley," cried Mrs. Ladd, waving her killed me? Come, mon cher.” umbrella.
The boy hesitated. “ Stand by, there," said the Commodore, issuing "Come, dear friend ; remember that you owe mie
- ur life. I ask but this last small proof of your each other's health before we part. Ha ! my dear atitude, — only this."
| Ladd, trouble makes mean creatures of the most · The boy wavered; the sick man drew him into of us.” e coach and shut the door. “ Tell the man where," "I would rather take no wine," said the boy,
said, in a low voice. “You know the place, - " but be off at once, Destouches. My father does rick. Bid the guard send your chest home.” not let me have wine. They will be anxious for me
The boy called to the guard, and then whispered at home.” He felt already distrustful of a man who i the driver,
had dared to propose robbery to him. * The Fortune of War, on the Deal road, and “0, you must, or I shall think you have not Qick."
forgiven me. Forget it all, - it was only my nonArrived at their destination, the sick man was sense." gain helped out. Charles Ladd told the driver to "Destouches went out, and returned in a moment rait and take him back.
with two brimming glasses. It was a dingy, wainscoted, smoky room to which “ Liberty and France,” he cried as he drained he landlord instantly showed them, after a sign and his; “ long life and happiness to you, my dear precountersign had been exchanged in French between server. Now drink yours.”
im and the friend of the Commodore's son. The “ Your health, General Destouches. How kind noment the door was locked, the sick man threw off you used to be to me at Wantage, walking with me ais cap, tore off his mufflers, and, opening his trav- and telling me stories about Napoleon. Do you reolling cloak, disclosed the uniform of a French gen- / member?” eral. The man had the dark eyes and black hair - Shall I ever forget my dear young English of a native of the south of France, and he spoke friend, whose life I saved, and who gave me liberty French — a language which the boy well under- in return, and restored me to my adorable wife, stood — with a strong Provençal accent.
to France and glory? Now drink yours.” “My dear boy,” he said, “ you are my preserver; The Frenchman's dark, subtle eyes watched the you have been a brother to me. I owe you my life, boy as he drank burriedly. Before Ladd could re
- all. The wagon will come for me in a few min place the glass on the table, he began to grow giddy utes. Adieu, my preserver. How nobly you have and to clutch at Destouches for support; then he repaid me.”
| uttered two or three incoherent words, staggered, " Dear general," said the boy, “how can I ever and fell senseless. forget your saving me from drowning at Wantage, L" That 's well, poor chicken," said the Frenchwhen I had sunk for the third time? Now you will man, as he coolly stooped and rifled the boy's once more see your dear country, and that dear lit-pocket of the packet of money he had before seen tle wife of whom you used so often to talk."
deposited there. “ Now for the Petit Renard ; the “ There is but one thing now," said Destouches; boat will start quicker and go better, now, and this " yes, one thing, but I dare not tell you that.” boy, who is sure to betray me, shall go with me, if
“ Yes; do tell me, Destouches, do tell me. What the men see the matter in the same light. The trip can I do to help you ? Tell me quick.”
will do him good, and teach him more gratitude. There was an artful and feigned reluctance in the One guinea will bribe the hackney-coachman. I general's manner. “These men will not take me to thought the brat of a school-boy would break down the Petit Renard under five guineas, - I have not when it came to giving me the money. What will the five guineas."
the old pig of a father in the cocked hat say ? The boy's face glowed with a generous ardor. What a strong drug that is I used. Ha! It has “ Promise it them when they reach the ship.” been useful to me before.”
" They won't lift an oar till they have the money."
IV. — TAE DISCLOSURE. 6 You told me you had twenty pounds you were ONE hour after the Commodore's return, as the bringing your father from a gentleman at Wantage, family sat waiting in silence, anxiously and impain discharge of an old debt."
tient, for Charles's return, there came a single, hard, " I did so, general; but that is my father's money, dry, business-like sort of knock at the front door. you know," said the boy, boldly.
* Here he is ; now get tea under way," said the “ Your father's money ? " said the Frenchman, Commodore, bustling to the door. "Here's Charbitterly. "I saved your life, and yet this is your ley. Look alive all hands, you women folks, gratitude.”
avast talking," "I have risked the contempt and anger of my “ Here's Charley," cried Kitty. “Here's a canfather, - I have risked danger to myself, but I will dle, uncle. No, let me go." never touch that money, — not a farthing of it. The Commodore opened the door, — he would not General Destouches, it was not a thief whose life hear of any one else doing it. To his surprise, it you saved. I thought you were a good and gener- was not Charles who stood on the door-step, but Mr. ous man; I pitied your misfortunes, but I will not Shipden, the town clerk, as usual, alert, brisk, and turn thief for you. Let me go, sir."
bland, but this time grave, anxious, and preoccuFor a moment the Frenchman looked as if he pied. could have stabbed the brave boy; then his false “Commodore Ladd,” he said, “I come on busifeatures relaxed into an unnatural, sardonic smile: ness, – painful business. I never thought I should a fear of betrayal'came upon him, and with it the have had to come on such business, and to you of all necessity of deception.
men, for I respect you, and always did, - we all do “My dear boy," he said, “my dear Ladd, I in this town, — as a brave and honest man. I have was wrong, you are right. How could I ask such a to tell you that General Destouches, a French pristhing? How cruel, - how infamous of me. The oner of rank, has escaped from Wantage, and been men will trust to my promises. Landlord,” here | traced to Dover." he rang the bell, “ bring some sherry. There is no “ And why come here to tell it, of all places? I time to be lost. I will go for it. We must drink am not surely a man, Mr. Shipden, I should hope, to
be suspected of connivance with a scoundrel runa- out to the pier to see if it was possible to put out way, - I, who served His Majesty for two-and-forty lobster-boat. A knot of men had collected in years. I've no great reason to like Frenchmen, they were talking; all eyes were turned to the Muster Shipden ; they killed my father and maimed | ure of an old man who was standing amid the la my two brothers.”
ing spray at the very furthest end of the pier. U "The Commodore spoke proudly, and with self- the curdling gray light it was just possible to dist: reliance; but an indescribable dread of some over-guish that he held a telescope under one aruL E whelming misfortune just then came over him, and that he stood gazing intently seaward. IT there was a pallor on his lips and a moisture about Commodore Ladd. his eyes. By this time his wife and niece had come “ It 'll kill him, - it'll kill him, mates," said a to the door, and were standing on either side of " that boy was part of his heart. Who'd ererbr him.
thought of a lad like Charley running over to 3 The town clerk entered the hall, and closed the French, and all for a few guineas ? I can't wa door behind him. Kate burst into tears.
stand it." " What is it, Mr. Shipden? O, pray, tell us, Williams went out to where the old man stor quickly," said the mother, with all a mother's quick and took him by the arm. 6 Tom," he said, " TE instinct of coming misfortune. “You bring us bad come, let us go home; if you brood over it like to news, I'm sure you do. What is it? Has any you will go mad. You will never see that privat harm - Has Char - Charley — "
again. Why, she's safe in Gravelines harbor, IL “Do not mention his name, woman," said the an hour ago. The lad turned out bad, as some lid Commodore violently. “That boy's name — my must. Forget him." name - shall never be mentioned by any one The old man shuddered and said nothing to coupled with a word of disgrace. Charley could n't yielding passively to his friend, turned homewar. do wrong. Tell me, — tell me, for heaven's sake, without a word. Daylight was spreading fe what has happened, Mr. Shipden, or something will The fog all at once lifted like a curtain from the break upon my brain. Is the lad hurt? Has he sea. Suddenly the roar of a cannon was bear come to any harm ? Say at once,- is he DEAD?" from Archcliff fort. The two men instinctire;
The Commodore took off his hat, and hung down turned; there, not half a mile from the pier, last his head. Mrs. Ladd and Kitty burst into agonies French privateer, the Petit Renard, — they kner of tears.
it in a moment by its rig, - dismasted, and try « The truth is terrible, but I must disclose it," with sweeps (large oars), to escape from the short said the kindly lawyer. “Keep your hearts up, dear near which the bewildering fog had detained i friends, and put your trust where comfort is alone during that awful night of storm. to be found. Your son Charles has been helping a “I prayed for it. I-I prayed for it." said the French general to escape from Wantage. He has Commodore, almost beside himself with joy. "le been traced to Dover in the unhappy boy's com- (I prayed she might go down in last night't stort.
or, in some way or other, be delivered into the en“He has not crossed our threshold since he re-emy's hand, so that my boy might prove his inturned from school,” said the Commodore fiercely, nocence. Heaven be thanked, John, for hearing “the women here can testify to it.” The old sailor's that prayer. If Charley prove guilty, I shall wish eyes were fixed like those of a madman. “It's all it had gone to the bottom last night." lies, it's LIES. What, my boy — my son Charles “He's mad," said Williams, as the Commodore
- help a French rascal to escape ? Impossible. thrust his cocked hat further over his eyes, and Mr. Shipden, leave my house, sir; if I am a sus literally ran from him to a cluster of sailors and pected man it is no place for you. Go, sir.” privateers-men whom the firing from the battery
The town clerk put his hand on that of Ladd's had now attracted to the pier. “Tom's head with a kindliness almost womanly.
clean gone, - clean gone ; he'll never be himsex “ Commodore,” he said, “ you are not suspected. I again, — never." I came here as a friend to break bad news to you, " Captain Davison,” said the Commodore, ide and I must tell it. The French officer and your dressing himself to a tall, thick-whiskered man ina? son have been traccd to the Fortune of War, a pilot coat, who was eying the discomfited vessel well-known haunt for fugitives who break their wistfully, “ lend me your vessel, man, — quick, lend parole. They are there now."
lit me. I'll get volunteers, and we 'll have a triat "It's not true, - it cannot be true. Open the that cursed Frenchman who kidnapped my son." door, mother; give me water, Kitty ; I feel faint. Davison looked doggedly seaward, and said sul The boy has been decoyed. Let me go to him." llenly, “ The vessel's worth money, Commodore, and
" It is too late," said Mr. Shipden gravely, and there's too great a sea on to have much chance with a face darkening as he spoke, — "too late, my though it is getting a little better. You 're thinkdear old friend. You can now only pray for him. ing of your son; I've got to think of my ship." I must tell it you, - yes, I must tell you the worst : "I've saved two hundred and fifty pounds, 13your boy Charles has gone on board the French vison. It was hard-earned money," said the Comiprivateer with General Destouches."
modore, " but I'll give a hundred of that – two The old Commodore gave an agonized, staring hundred-if I lose her, and two guineas besides look at his wife and kitty ; then throwing up his for every man that volunteers to go with me." arms, as if in a frenzied appeal to Heaven, he fell Davison relented. “What do you say, men?" heavily on the floor.
| he said, turning round to the crowd of young;
sinewy “ hovellers” and fishermen that stood round V.- THE TWO LUGGERS.
him. “ Will you go with the Commodore and try “HE 's been there all the blessed night, – all and overhaul the Petit Renard, and see if Charley through that rough weather, and the sea breaking is really there? I've got muskets and cutlasses over him every five minutes,” said John Williams / enough. Shall it be, lads ? " to a fisherman, who, before daybreak, had strolled “ Ay, ay,” shouted at once thirty or forty voices
We're the boys for you, Commodore. We'll give “It's my boy,” said the delighted father, turning good account of her, if we can only once get the from the fighting for a moment. “It's my boy ; it's eather-gage.”
Charley. He is saved; he's true after all. They “I'll follow the boarders, if I can't lead 'em," had him in limbo. Did n't I say so, mates ? " id the Commodore ; “ and if Charley is there of " Three cheers for Charley,” cried the men. is own free will I don't care how soon a bullet lays “I did n't run away, father," said the boy. “ You le quiet, for I've nothing then to live for. But he did n't think I ran away? They put something in
n't, - I'd give my life he is n't. 0, Charley, my wine and carried me off. You did not think I harley, I'd rather have seen you drown or burn had turned Frenchman ? Dear father, bless you efore my eyes than run off to join the infernal for saving me. Give me a cutlass, and I'll help to 'rench. Come, lads, we have n't a minute to lose ; fight with father. They locked me in the cabin, hey 're getting the sweeps into play, and the bat- but I broke out." ery does n't go near to them. Run, some one, and " Kill that boy,” shouted the French general ; but ell them to stop firing at Archcliff, or we shall get in a moment Destouches, in the act of firing at unk before we run up our colors.”
Charley, was shot dead and trampled under foot. What a cheer there was for the old Commodore Five minutes' wild fighting in broken groups, and us fifty or sixty volunteers, headed by Williams, the Petit Renard was the prize of Commodore Ladd. eaped, shouting, into the vessel, and with wonder- Another five minutes and her head was turned back ful expedition that smart lugger, the Good Despatch, towards the white cliffs. went twirling round the pier-head and out to sea, in The moment the Good Despatch and her shatterede pursuit of the Frenchman. Nearer and nearer crept prize entered Dover harbor, the sailors carried the the English vessel upon the privateer, in spite of all old Commodore on shore on their shoulders in triher doublings and windings. A lucky shot shat-umph, and the soldiers cheered and the town band tered the Frenchman's sweeps on one side, and left plaved when the Commodore, once more on his legs, her, helpless and lamed, rolling in the trough of the his left arm bandaged from a sword-cut, a bulletsea, whose vast waves seemed now raging for her hole or two in his cocked hat, passed the Custom destruction. Plunging through the yeasty, leaping House door. sea came the Good Despatch, eager to seize her As for Charley, the indiscretion into which a roprey. Suddenly out stretched the sweeps, and mantic generosity had led him was soon forgotten, away the Frenchman flew.
and that day week he joined the Kestrel. "We shall lose her now, Commodore," said “My parting advice," said the Commodore, as he Davison, despondingly, as they stood by a loaded took the lad on board, " is this: if you want to be gun.
a good sailor and worthy of cousin Kitty, never you “No, we shall not lose her, — something tells me trust a Frenchman again. If a Frenchman should we shall not lose her; I shall see my boy once more.” ever offer to save you, Charley, from drowning, you That very shot brought down the Frenchman's say, Thank 'ee, monseer, but if you've no objection, jury-mast, and in ten minutes the Good Despatch and I can't get out by myself, I'd rather drown; was on her.
thank you all the same." They were so close now that the Dover men The virulence of a long war made many Englishcould see the fierce privateers-men, the French offi- men as unjust to their neighbors as Commodore cer who commanded them, and several Creole sail- Ladd. In spite of the advice, however, Charley ors, who were grinning through the boarding net- turned out a good sailor and an honest man. ting.
Put the helm up,” shouted the Commodore. " Lay her alongside, Williams. Stand by with the
LITERARY FASHIONS. grapplings, - that's right. Now, boarders, stick to We sometimes figure to ourselves Time as a great the cutlass and strike for old England ; give them sage seated on the everlasting hills. Every book one cheer, and down in their main channel before under the sun that is published is brought to him for they 've got over the first fright. I'll be after inspection and approval. Some he lays aside for you.
future consideration ; some he casts from him in Crash came a dangerous shower of grape from disdain ; others he lets fall as if from inadvertence; the Frenchman, then a dropping, tormenting mus- and some few — very few - he places on the shelves ketry fire from the rigging; but the sea was high, of his library, and marks them for his own with and the vessels tossed so, that the aim was very de-a seal that cannot easily be effaced. But his profective.
cess is slow and deliberate, and the inquisitive Over went the Dover men in a fierce scramble, mortals who group around him often take advanhewing down the netting with cutlass and axe. A tage of his delays, and with great impertinence few fell; the rest dropped down, like wild cats, on forestall his judgments. Meanwhile his theory of to the enemy's deck.
selection is fully and surely carried out ; every The Commodore, sword in hand, was not the last book which he lets slip or discards glides down the to charge down on the Frenchmen; he closed with steep, and, however its fall may be broken, at last the enemy's first mate, and felled him down at the reaches the bottom and is buried with untold third cut.
millions besides, in the grave of oblivion. The fight was still raging hot; Williams and the The sage is just, and there is no appeal against Commodore were urging on their men for a rush at his decisions in the long run. He is not like the the quarter-deck, the last citadel of the French gen- Caliph Omar, who, according to Arabian writers, eral and some dozen savage-looking desperadoes, heated the four thousand baths of Alexandria durwhen a boy ran up the cabin stairs pursued by a ing six months with the books in the library of that French sailor, whom a Dover fisherman instantly city. He is not like Ximenes, who piled up in the stopped by an opportune backhanded sabre-cut. squares of Grenada all the beautiful and costly It was Charley; he ran swift and straight to the manuscripts he could find, and burned them, beCommodore, and was received in his arms.
cause they were written in the language of the