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Richards. + </title> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Nautilus, by Laura E. Richards + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Nautilus + +Author: Laura E. Richards + +Release Date: March 13, 2005 [EBook #15355] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NAUTILUS *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Bruce Thomas and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/Illus-001.gif"><img src="images/Illus-001.gif" width="267" height="500" +alt="The boy at the window." title="The boy at the window." /></a> +</p> + +<h1>NAUTILUS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>LAURA E. RICHARDS</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "MARIE," "QUEEN +HILDEGARDE," ETC., ETC.</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated</p> + +<p class="center">TENTH THOUSAND</p> + +<p class="center">BOSTON<br /> + +ESTES AND LAURIAT<br /> + +1895<br /><br /></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1895,</i><br /> + +BY ESTES AND LAURIAT<br /> + +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> + +<i>Entered at Stationers' Hall, London.</i><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Typography and Printing by<br /> + +C.H. Simonds & Co.<br /> + +Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons<br /> + +Boston, U.S.A.</i><br /><br /></p> + +<p class="center">TO MY DEAR FRIENDS,<br /> + +THE MEMBERS OF THE<br /> + +HOWE CLUB,<br /> + +OF GARDINER, MAINE,<br /> + +THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY<br /> + +DEDICATED.<br /><br /></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> + +<table width="450" class="center"> + +<tr><td align="right">CHAPTER </td><td> </td><td align="right"> Page</td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right"> I. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_I"> THE BOY JOHN</a> </span></td><td align="right">13</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> II. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_II"> THE SKIPPER</a> </span></td><td align="right">18</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> III. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_III"> A GREAT EXHIBITION</a> </span> </td><td align="right"> 33</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> IV. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV"> ABOARD THE "NAUTILUS</a> </span></td><td align="right">48</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> V. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_V"> MYSTERY</a> </span></td><td align="right">56</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> VI. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI"> MR. BILL HEN </a> </span></td><td align="right">68</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> VII. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII"> THE CAPTIVE</a> </span></td><td align="right">75</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> VIII. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"> IN THE NIGHT</a> </span> </td><td align="right">86</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> IX. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX"> FAMILY MATTERS </a> </span></td><td align="right">93</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> X. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_X"> IN THE VALLEY OF DECISION </a> </span></td><td align="right">105</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"> XI. </td><td><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI"> SAILING</a> </span></td><td align="right">113</td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1><a name="NAUTILUS" id="NAUTILUS">NAUTILUS</a></h1> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/010a.gif" width="602" height="327" alt="NAUTILUS" title="NAUTILUS" /> +</p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">THE BOY JOHN.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />The boy John was sitting on the wharf, watching the +ebb of the tide. The current was swift, for there had +been heavy rains within a few days; the river was full of +drifting logs, bits of bark, odds and ends of various kinds; +the water, usually so blue, looked brown and thick. It +swirled round the great mossy piers, making eddies between +them; from time to time the boy dropped bits of paper +into these eddies, and saw with delight how they spun +round and round, like living things, and finally gave up +the struggle and were borne away down stream.</p> + +<p>"Only, in the real maelstrom," he said, "they don't be +carried away; they go over the edge, down into the black +hole, whole ships and ships, and you never see them again. +I wonder where they stop, or whether it goes through +to the other side of the world."</p> + +<p>A great log came drifting along, and struck against a +pier; the end swung round, and it rested for a few +moments, beating against the wooden wall. This, it was +evident, was a wrecked vessel, and it behooved the boy +John, as a hero and a life-saver, to rescue her passengers. +Seizing a pole, he lay down on his stomach and carefully +drew the log toward him, murmuring words of cheer the +while.</p> + +<p>"They are almost starved to death!" he said, pitifully. +"The captain is tied to the mast, and they have +not had anything to eat but boots and a puppy for three +weeks. The mate and some of the sailors took all the +boats and ran away,—at least, not ran, but went off and +left the rest of 'em; and they have all said their prayers, +for they are very good folks, and the captain didn't <i>want</i> +to kill the puppy one bit, but he had to, or else they would +all be dead now. And—and the reckoning was dead,—I +wonder what that means, and why it is dead so often,—and +so they couldn't tell where they were, but they knew +that there were cannibals on <i>almost</i> all the islands, and +this was the hungriest time of the year for cannibals."</p> + +<p>Here followed a few breathless moments, during which +the captain, his wife and child, and the faithful members +of the crew, were pulled up to the wharf by the unaided +arm of the boy John. He wrapped them in hot blankets +and gave them brandy and peanut taffy: the first because it +was what they always did in books; the second because it +was the best thing in the world, and would take away the +nasty taste of the brandy.</p> + +<p>Leaving them in safety, and in floods of grateful tears, +the rescuer bent over the side of the wharf once more, +intent on saving the gallant ship from her fate; but at +this moment came a strong swirl of tide, the log swung +round once more and floated off, and the rescuer fell "all +along" into the water. This was nothing unusual, and he +came puffing and panting up the slippery logs, and sat +down again, shaking himself like a Newfoundland puppy. +He wished the shipwrecked crew had not seen him; he +knew he should get a whipping when he reached home, +but that was of less consequence. Anyhow, she was an +old vessel, and now the captain would get a new ship—a +fine one, full rigged, with new sails as white as snow; +and on his next voyage he would take him, the boy John, +in place of the faithless mate, and they would sail away, +away, down the river and far across the ocean, and then,—then +he would hear the sound of the sea. After all, you +never could hear it in the river, though that was, oh, so +much better than nothing! But the things that the shells +meant when they whispered, the things that the wind said +over and over in the pine trees, those things you never +could know until you heard the real sound of the real sea.</p> + +<p>The child rose and stretched himself wearily. He had +had a happy time, but it was over now; he must leave the +water, which he cared more for than for anything in the +world,—must leave the water and go back to the small +close house, and go to bed, and dream no more dreams. +Ah! when would some one come,—no play hero, but a real +one, in a white-sailed ship, and carry him off, never to set +foot on shore again?</p> + +<p>He turned to go, for the shadows were falling, and +already a fog had crept up the river, almost hiding the +brown, swiftly-flowing water; yet before leaving the wharf +he turned back once more and looked up and down, with +eyes that strove to pierce the fog veil,—eager, longing +eyes of a child, who hopes every moment to see the +doors open into fairy-land.</p> + +<p>And lo! what was this that he saw? What was this +that came gliding slowly, silently out of the dusk, out of +the whiteness, itself whiter than the river fog, more shadowy +than the films of twilight? The child held his breath, +and his heart beat fast, fast. A vessel, or the ghost of a +vessel? Nearer and nearer it came, and now he could see +masts and spars, sails spread to catch the faint breeze, +gleaming brass-work about the decks. A vessel, surely; +yet,—what was that? The fog lifted for a moment, or +else his eyes grew better used to the dimness, and he saw +a strange thing. On the prow of the vessel, which now +was seen to be a schooner, stood a figure; a statue, was it? +Surely it was a statue of bronze, like the Soldiers' Monument, +leaning against the mast, with folded arms.</p> + +<p>Nearer! Fear seized the boy, for he thought the statue +had eyes like real eyes, and he saw them move, as if looking +from right to left; the whites glistened, the dark balls +rolled from side to side. The child stood still, feeling as +if he had called up this phantom out of his own thoughts; +perhaps in another minute it would fade away into the +fog, as it had come, and leave only the flowing tide and +the shrouded banks on either side!</p> + +<p>Nearer! and now the bronze figure lifted its arm, +slowly, silently, and pointed at the boy. But this was +more than flesh and blood could stand; little John uttered +a choking cry, and turning his back on the awful portent, +ran home as fast as he could lay foot to ground. And +on seeing this the bronze figure laughed, and its teeth +glistened, even as the eyes had done.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">THE SKIPPER.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />The little boy slept brokenly that night. Bronze +statues flitted through his dreams, sometimes frowning +darkly on him, folding him in an iron clasp, dragging +him down into the depths of roaring whirlpools; sometimes, +still stranger to say, smiling, looking on him with kindly +eyes, and telling him that the sea was not so far away as +he thought, and that one day he should see it and know +the sound of it. His bed was a white schooner,—there +seemed no possible doubt of that; it tossed up and down +as it lay by the wharf; and once the lines were cast off, +and he was about to be carried away, when up rose the +crew that he had rescued from shipwreck, and cried with +one voice, "No! no! he shall not go!" The voice was +that of Mr. Endymion Scraper, and not a pleasant voice to +hear; moreover, the voice had hands, lean and hard, which +clutched the boy's shoulder, and shook him roughly; and +at last, briefly, it appeared that it was time to get up, and +that if the boy John did not get up that minute, like the +lazy good-for-nothing he was, Mr. Scraper would give him +such a lesson as he would not forget for one while.</p> + +<p>John tumbled out of bed, and stood rubbing his eyes for +a moment, his wits still abroad. The water heaved and +subsided under him, but presently it hardened into the +garret floor. He staggered a few steps, as the hard hand +gave him a push and let him go, then stood firm and looked +about him. Gradually the room grew familiar; the painted +bed and chair, the window with its four small panes, which +he loved to polish and clean, "so that the sky could come +through," the purple mussel-shell and the china dog, +his sole treasures and ornaments. The mussel was his +greatest joy, perhaps; it had been given him by a fisherman, +who had brought a pocket-full back from his sea +trip, to please his own children. It made no sound, but +the tint was pure and lovely, and it was lined with rainbow +pearl. The dog was not jealous, for he knew (or +the boy John thought he knew), that he was, after all, the +more companionable of the two, and that he was talked +to ten times for the mussel's once. John was telling him +now, as he struggled into his shirt and trousers, about the +vision of last night, and the dreams that followed it. +"And as soon as ever I have my chores done," he said, +and his eyes shone, and his cheek flushed at the thought, +"as soon as ever, I'm going down there, just to see. Of +course, I suppose it isn't there, you know; but then,—if +it should be!"</p> + +<p>The dog expressed sympathy in his usual quiet way, and +was of the opinion that John should go by all means, for, +after all, who could say that the vision might not have +been reality? When one considered the stories one had +read! and had not the dog just heard the whole of "Robinson +Crusoe" read aloud, bit by bit, in stealthy whispers, +by early daylight, by moonlight, by stray bits of candle +begged from a neighbor,—had he not heard and appreciated +every word of the immortal story? He was no +ignorant dog, indeed! His advice was worth having.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was soon eaten; it did not take long to eat +breakfast in Mr. Scraper's house. The chores were a more +serious matter, for every spoon and plate had to be washed +to the tune of a lashing tongue, and under an eye that +withered all it lighted on. But at last,—at last the +happy hour came when the tyrant's back was turned, +and the tyrant's feet tottered off in the direction of the +post-office. The daily purchases, the daily gossip at the +"store," would fill the rest of the morning, as John well +knew. He listened in silence to the charges to "keep +stiddy to work, and git that p'tater-patch wed by noon;" +he watched the departure of his tormentor, and went +straight to the potato-patch, duty and fear leading him by +either hand. The weeds had no safety of their lives that +day; he was in too great a hurry to dally, as he loved to +do, over the bigger stalks of pigweed, the giants which he, +with his trusty sword—only it was a hoe—would presently +dash to the earth and behead, and tear in pieces. +Even the sprawling pusley-stems, which generally played +the part of devil-fish and tarantulas and various other +monsters, suffered no amputation of limb by limb, but were +torn up with merciful haste, and flung in heaps together.</p> + +<p>Was the potato-patch thoroughly "wed?" I hardly +know. But I know that in less than an hour after Mr. +Endymion Scraper started for the village the boy John +was on his way to the wharf.</p> + +<p>As he drew near the river he found that something was +the matter with his breath. It would not come regularly, +but in gasps and sighs; his heart beat so hard, and was +so high up in his throat he was almost choked. Would he +see anything when he turned the corner that led down to +the wharf? And if anything,—what? Then he shut his +eyes and turned the corner.</p> + +<p>The schooner was there. No longer spectral or shadowy, +she lay in plain sight by the wharf, her trim lines pleasant +to look at, her decks shining with neatness, her canvas all +spread out to dry, for the night dew had been heavy. +Lifting his fearful eyes, the child saw the bronze figure +standing in the bow, but now it was plainly seen to be a +man, a swarthy man, with close-curled black hair, and +bright, dark eyes. Two other men were lounging about the +deck, but John took little heed of them. This man, the +strangest he had ever seen, claimed his whole thought. +He was as dark as the people in the geography book, where +the pictures of the different races were; not an Ethiopian, +evidently (John loved the long words in the geography +book), because his nose was straight and his lips thin; perhaps +a Malay or an Arab. If one could see a real Arab, +one could ask him about the horses, and whether the dates +were always sticky, and what he did in a sandstorm, and +lots of interesting things. And then a Malay,—why, you +could ask him how he felt when he ran amuck,—only, +perhaps, that would not be polite.</p> + +<p>These meditations were interrupted by a hail from the +schooner. It was the dark man himself who spoke, in a +quiet voice that sounded kind.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, sir! Will you come aboard this +morning?"</p> + +<p>John was not used to being called "Sir," and the word +fell pleasantly on ears that shrank from the detested syllable +"Bub," with which strangers were wont to greet him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you please," he answered, with some dignity. It +is, perhaps, difficult to be stately when one is only five feet +tall, but John felt stately inside, as well as shy. The +stranger turned and made a sign to the other men, who +came quickly, bringing a gang-plank, which they ran out +from the schooner's deck to the wharf. The Skipper, for +such the dark man appeared to be, made a sign of invitation, +and after a moment's hesitation, John ran across and +stood on the deck of the white schooner. Was he still +dreaming? Would he wake in a moment and find himself +back in the garret at home, with Mr. Scraper shaking +him?</p> + +<p>"Welcome, young gentleman!" said the Skipper, holding +out his hand. "Welcome! the first visitor to the schooner. +That it is a child, brings luck for the next voyage, so we +owe you a thank. We arrived last night only. And what +is my young gentleman's name?"</p> + +<p>"My name is John," said the boy, standing with down-cast +eyes before this wonderful person.</p> + +<p>"And mine!" said the Skipper,—"two Johns, the +black and the red. You should be called Juan Colorado, +for your hair of red gold."</p> + +<p>The boy looked up quickly, his cheek flushing; he did +not like to be laughed at; but the Skipper's face was perfectly +grave, and only courtesy and hospitality shone from +his dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what the schooner's name is!" John said, +presently, speaking low, and addressing his remarks +apparently to the mast, which he kicked gently with his +foot.</p> + +<p>"The schooner is the 'Nautilus,' young gentleman!"</p> + +<p>The reply came from the Skipper, not from the mast, +yet it was still to the latter that the boy made his next +observation.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where she comes from, and where she is +going, and what she is going to do here!" And having +delivered himself breathlessly of these remarks, the boy +John wished he could squeeze through a port-hole, or melt +away into foam, or get away somehow, anyhow.</p> + +<p>But now he felt himself lifted in strong arms, and set +on the rail of the vessel, with his eyes just opposite those +of the Skipper, so that he could not look up without meeting +them; and on so looking up, it became evident immediately +that this was the kindest man in the world, and that +he liked boys, and that, finally, there was nothing to be +afraid of. On which John heaved a mighty sigh of relief, +and then smiled, and then laughed.</p> + +<p>"I like to know things!" he said, simply.</p> + +<p>"Me, too," replied the Skipper. "I also like to know +things. How else shall we become wise, Juan Colorado? +Now listen, and you shall hear. This schooner is the +'Nautilus,' as I say, and she is a Spanish schooner. Yes;" +(in reply to the question in the boy's eyes,) "I am partly a +Spanish man, but not all. I have other mankind in me, +young gentleman. We come from the Bahamas. Do you +know where are they, the Bahamas?"</p> + +<p>John nodded. He liked geography, and stood at the +head of his class. "Part of the West Indies," he said, +rapidly. "Low, coral islands. One of them, San Salvador, +is said to be the first land discovered by Columbus in 1492. +Principal exports, sugar, coffee, cotton, tobacco, and tropical +fruits. Belong to Great Britain. That's all I know."</p> + +<p>"Caramba!" said a handsome youth, who was lounging +on the rail a few feet off, gazing on with idle eyes, "you +got the schoolmaster here, Patron! I did not know all that, +me, and I come, too, from Bahamas. Say, you teach a +school, M'sieur?"</p> + +<p>"Franci!" said the Patron, gravely.</p> + +<p>"Si, Señor!" said Franci, with a beautiful smile, which +showed his teeth under his black mustache.</p> + +<p>"There is a school of flying-fish in the cabin. Better +see to them!"</p> + +<p>"Si, Señor!" said Franci, and disappeared down the +hatchway.</p> + +<p>"Is there?" asked the boy John, with great eyes of +wonder. The Skipper smiled, and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Franci understands me," he said. "I wish to tell him +that he go about his business, and not linger,—as you say, +loaf about the deck. I take a little way round about, but +he understands very well, Franci. And of all these exports, +what does the young gentleman think I have brought from +the Bahamas?"</p> + +<p>"I—I was just wondering!" John confessed; but he +did not add his secret hope that it was something more +interesting than cotton or tobacco.</p> + +<p>The Skipper turned and made a quick, graceful gesture +with his hand. "Perhaps the young gentleman like to +see my cargo," he said. "Do me the favor!" and he led +the way down to the cabin.</p> + +<p>Now it became evident to the boy that all had indeed +been a dream. It sometimes happened that way, +dreaming that you woke and found it all true, and then +starting up to find that the first waking had been of dream-stuff +too, that it was melting away from your sight, from +your grasp; even things that looked so real, so real,—he +pinched himself violently, and shook his head, and tried to +break loose from fetters of sleep, binding him to such +sweet wonders, that he must lose next moment; but +no waking came, and the wonders remained.</p> + +<p>The cabin was full of shells. Across one end of the +little room ran a glazed counter, where lay heaped together +various objects of jewelry, shell necklaces, alligator teeth +and sea-beans set in various ways, tortoise-shell combs, +bracelets and hairpins,—a dazzling array. Yet the boy's +eyes passed almost carelessly over these treasures, to light +with quick enchantment on the shells themselves, the <i>real</i> +shells, as he instantly named them to himself, resenting +half-consciously the turning of Nature's wonders into +objects of vulgar adornment.</p> + +<p>The shells were here, the shells were there, the shells +were all around! Shelf above shelf of them, piled in +heaps, lying in solitary splendor, arranged in patterns,—John +had never, in his wildest dreams, seen so many +shells. Half the poetry of his little life had been in the +lovely forms and colors that lay behind the locked glass +doors in Mr. Scraper's parlor; for Mr. Scraper was a collector +of shells in a small way. John had supposed his +collection to be, if not the only one in the world, at least +the most magnificent, by long odds; yet here were the old +man's precious units multiplied into tens, into twenties, +sometimes into hundreds, and all lying open to the day, +as if anyone, even a small one, even a little boy, who almost +never had anything in his hand more precious than his +own purple mussel at home, might touch and handle +them and feel himself in heaven.</p> + +<p>They gleamed with the banded glories of the rainbow: +they softened into the moonlight beauty of the pearl; they +veiled their loveliness in milky clouds, through which the +color showed as pure and sweet as the cheek of a bride; +they glowed with depths of red and flame that might +almost burn to the touch.</p> + +<p>The little boy stood with clasped hands, and sobbed with +excitement. "Did you dig up all the sea?" he asked, in a +wonder that was not without reproach. "Are there none +left any more, at all?"</p> + +<p>The Skipper laughed quietly. "The mermaids see not +any difference, sir," he said. "Where I take one shell +from its rock, I leave a hundred, a thousand. The sea +is a good mother, she has plenty children. See!" he +added, lifting a splendid horned shell, "this is the Royal +Triton. On a rock I found him, twenty fathom down. +It was a family party, I think, for all around they lay, some +clinging to the rock, some in the mud, some walking +about. I take one, two, three, put them in my pouch; +up I go, and the others, they have a little more room, +that's all."</p> + +<p>John's eyes glowed in his head.</p> + +<p>"I—I should like to see that!" he cried. "What is it +like down there? Do sharks come by,—swish! with +their great tails? And why don't they eat you, like the man +in the geography book? And is there really a sea-serpent? +And do the oysters open and shut their mouths, so that you +can see the pearls, or how do you know which are the +right ones?</p> + +<p>"There are a great many things that I have thought +about all my life," he said, "and nobody could ever tell +me. The bottom of the sea, that is what I want most in +the world to know about."</p> + +<p>He paused, out of breath, and would have been abashed +at his own boldness, had not the Skipper's eyes told him so +perfectly that they had understood all about it, and that +there was no sort of reason why he should not ask all the +questions he liked.</p> + +<p>They were wonderful eyes, those of the Skipper. Most +black eyes are wanting in the depths that one sounds +in blue, or gray, in brown, more rarely in hazel eyes; they +flash with an outward brilliancy, they soften into velvet, +but one seldom sees through them into the heart. But these +eyes, though black beyond a doubt, had the darkness of deep, +still water, when you look into it and see the surface +mantling with a bluish gloss, and beneath that depth +upon depth of black—clear, serene, unfathomable. And +when a smile came into them,—ah, well! we all know +how that same dark water looks when the sun strikes on +it. The sun struck now, and little John felt warm and +comfortable all through his body and heart.</p> + +<p>"The bottom of the sea?" said the Skipper, taking up +a shell and polishing it on his coat-sleeve. "Yes, that is +a fine place, Colorado. You mind not that I call you +Colorado? It pleases me,—the name. A fine place, truly. +You have never seen the sea, young gentleman?"</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Never, really!" he said. "I—I've dreamed about it +a great deal, and I think about it most of the time. +There's a picture in my geography book, just a piece of +sea, and then broken off, so that you don't see any end to +it; that makes it seem real, somehow, I don't know why.</p> + +<p>"But I've heard the sound of it!" he added, his face +brightening. "There's a shell in Mr. Scraper's parlour, +on the mantelpiece, and sometimes when he goes to sleep +I can get it for a minute, and hold it to my ear, and then +I hear the sound, the sound of the sea."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Skipper, taking up another shell from +one of the shelves, a tiger cowry, rich with purple and +brown. "The sound of the sea; that is a good thing. +Listen here, young gentleman, and tell me what the tiger +say to you of the sea."</p> + +<p>He held the shell to the boy's ear, and saw the colour +and the light come like a wave into his face. They were +silent for a moment; then the child spoke, low and +dreamily.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't say words, you know!" he said. "It's just +a soft noise, like what the pine-trees make, but it sounds +cool and green and—and wet. And there are waves a +long way off, curling over and over, and breaking on +white beaches, and they smell good and salt. And it +seems to make me know about things down under the sea, +and bright colours shining through the water, and light +coming 'way down—cool, green light, that doesn't make +you wink when you look at it. And—and I guess there +are lots of fishes swimming about, and their eyes shine, +too, and they move just as soft, and don't make any noise, +no more than if their mother was sick in the next room. +And on the ground there seem to be like flowers, only +they move and open and shut without any one touching +them. And—and—"</p> + +<p>Was the boy going into a trance? Were the dark eyes +mesmerizing him, or was all this to be heard in the shell? +The Skipper took the shell gently from his hand, and +stroked his hair once or twice, quickly and lightly. +"That will do!" he said. "The young gentleman can +hear truly. All these things are under the sea, yes, and +more, oh, many more! Some day you shall see them, +young gentleman; who knows? But now comes Franci +to make the dinner. Will Señor Colorado dine with the +Skipper from the Bahamas? Welcome he will be, truly."</p> + +<p>Little John started, and a guilty flush swept over his +clear face.</p> + +<p>"I forgot!" he cried. "I forgot all about everything, +and Cousin Scraper will be home by this time, and—and—I'll +have to be going, please; but I'll come again, if +you think I may."</p> + +<p>The Skipper had raised his eyebrows at the name of +Scraper, and was now looking curiously at the boy. "Who +is that you say?" he asked. "Scraper, your cousin? And +of your father, young gentleman,—why do you not speak +of him?"</p> + +<p>"My father is dead," replied little John. "And my +mother too, a good while ago. I don't remember father. +Mother——" he broke off, and dropped his eyes to hide the +tears that sprang to them. "Mother died a year ago," +he said; "ever since then I've lived with Cousin Scraper. +He's some sort of kin to father, and he says he's my +guardian by law."</p> + +<p>"His other name?" suggested the dark man, quietly. +"For example, Endymion?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes!" cried John, raising his honest blue eyes +in wonder. "Do you know him, sir? Have you ever +been here before?"</p> + +<p>The Skipper shook his head. "Not of my life!" he +said. "Yet—I make a guess at the name; perhaps of +this gentleman I have heard. He—he is a kind person, +Colorado?"</p> + +<p>John hung his head. He knew that he must not speak +evil; his mother had always told him that; yet what else +was there to speak about Cousin Scraper? "He—he +collects shells!" he faltered, after a pause, during which +he was conscious of the Skipper's eyes piercing through +and through him, and probably seeing the very holes in +his stockings. But now the Skipper threw back his head +with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"He collects shells, eh? My faith, I have come to the +right place, I with my 'Nautilus.' See, young gentleman! +I go with my shells where I think is good market. In +large cities, many rich people who collect shells. I sell +many, many, some very precious. Never have I come up +this river of great beauty; but I say, who knows? Maybe +here are persons who know themselves, who have the +feeling of shells in their hearts. I find, first you, Colorado; +and that you have the feeling in your heart I see, at +the first look you give to my pretties here. That you +have the fortune to live with a collector, that I could +not guess, ha? He is kind, I say, this Scraper? He +loves you as a son, he gives you his shells to look at, to +care for as your own?"</p> + +<p>John hung his head again.</p> + +<p>"He keeps them locked up," he admitted. "I never +had one in my hand, except the one on the mantelpiece, +sometimes when he goes to sleep after dinner. I—I must +be going now!" he cried in desperation, making his way +to the gang-plank. "I must get home, or he'll—"</p> + +<p>"What he will do?" the Skipper inquired, holding the +plank in his hand. "What he do to you, young gentleman, +eh? A little scold you, because you stay too long +to talk with the Skipper from the Bahamas, hey? No +more than that, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"He'll beat me," cried little John, driven fairly past +himself. "He beats me every time I'm late, or don't get +my work done. I thank you ever so much for being so +kind, but I can't stay another minute."</p> + +<p>"Adios, then, Señor Colorado!" said the Skipper, with +a stately bow. "You come soon again, I pray you. And +if you will tell Sir Scraper, and all those others, your +friends, the shell schooner is here. Exhibition in a few +hours ready, free to all. Explanation and instruction +when desired by intelligent persons desiring of to know +the habits under the sea. Schooner 'Nautilus,' from the +Bahamas, with remarkable collection of shells and marine +curiosities. Adios, Señor Juan Colorado!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">A GREAT EXHIBITION.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />Little John was not the one to spread the tidings of +the schooner's arrival. He had to take his whipping,—a +hard one it was!—and then he was sent down into +the cellar to sift ashes, as the most unpleasant thing that +could be devised for a fine afternoon. But the news +spread, for all that. John was not the only boy in the +village of Tidewater, and by twelve o'clock every man, +woman and child was talking about the new arrival; and +by two o'clock, the dinner dishes being put away, and the +time of the evening chores still some hours off, nearly +every man, woman and child was hastening in the direction +of the wharf. Of course the boys were going. It was +vacation time, and what else should boys do but see all +that was to be seen? And of course it was the duty of the +elders to see that the children came to no harm. So the +fathers were strolling leisurely down, saying to each other +that 'twas all nonsense, most likely, and nothing worth +seeing, but some one ought to be looking out that the boys +and the women folks didn't get cheated. The mothers +were putting on their bonnets, in the serene consciousness +that if anyone was going to be cheated it was not they, +and that goodness knew what those men-folks would be up +to on that schooner if they were left to themselves. And +the little girls were shaking the pennies out of their money +boxes, or if they had no boxes, watching with eager eyes +their more fortunate sisters. Truly, it was a great day in +the village.</p> + +<p>The Skipper welcomed one and all. He stood by the +gang-plank, and Franci stood by him, cap in hand, smiling +in a beautiful way. On the rail were perched two little +monkeys, their arms round each other's shoulders, their +bright eyes watching with eager curiosity all that went on. +When the Skipper bowed, they bowed; when he smiled, +they grinned; and when he put out his hand to help a +woman or a child aboard, they laid their hands on their +hearts, and tried to look like Franci. The Skipper was their +lord and master, and they loved and feared him, and did +his bidding as often as their nature would allow; but in the +depths of their little monkey hearts they cherished a profound +admiration for Franci, and they were always hoping +that this time they were looking like him when they +smiled. (But they never were!)</p> + +<p>The only other visible member of the crew was a long, +lazy-looking Yankee, whom the Skipper called Rento, and +the others plain "Rent," his full name of Laurentus Woodcock +being more than they could away with. But it was +not to see the crew, neither the schooner (though she was +a pretty schooner enough, as anybody who knew about +such matters could see), that the village had come out; it +was to see the exhibition, and the exhibition was ready for +them. An awning was spread over the after-deck, and +under this was arranged with care the main collection of +corals and shells, the commoner sorts, such as found a +ready sale at low prices. There was pure white coral, in +long branches, studded with tiny points, like the wraith of +the fairy thorn; there were great piles of the delicate fan-coral, +which the sailors call sea-fans, and which Franci +would hold out to every girl who had any pretence to good +looks, with his most gracious bow, and "Young lady like +to fan herself, keep the sun off, <i>here</i> you air, ladies!" +While Laurentus would blush and hang his head if any +woman addressed him, and would murmur the wrong price +in an unintelligible voice if the woman happened to be +young and pretty.</p> + +<p>Then there were mushroom corals, so inviting that one +could hardly refrain from carrying them home and cooking +them for tea; and pincushion corals, round and hard, looking +as if they had been stolen from the best bedroom of +some uncompromising New England mermaid. Yes; there +was no end to the corals. The lovely white branches were +cheap, and nearly every child went off with a branch, small +or large, dwelling on it with eyes of rapture, seeing nothing +else in the world, in some cases failing to see even +the way, and being rescued from peril of water by the +Skipper or Rento. The favourite shells were the conches, of +all sizes and varieties, from the huge pink-lipped Tritons of +the "Triumph of Galatea," down to fairy things, many-whorled, +rainbow-tinted, which were included in the +"handful for five cents" which Franci joyously proclaimed +at intervals, when he thought the children looked wistful +and needed cheering up, since they could not have all they +saw.</p> + +<p>But the Cypræas were beautiful, too, and of every colour, +from white or palest amber to deep sullen purples and +browns that melted into ebony. These were the shells +with voices, that spoke of the sea; many a child raised +them to his ear, and listened with vague delight to the +far-away, uncertain murmur; but not to every child is it +given to hear the sound of the sea, and it may be doubted +whether any boy or girl would have understood what the +boy John meant, if he had declared the things that the +shell had said to him.</p> + +<p>Where was John? Franci and Rento had charge of the +deck exhibition, but the Skipper kept his station at the +head of the gang-plank, and while courteously receiving his +visitors, with a word of welcome for each, he looked often +up the road to see if his little friend was coming. He +thought the gleam of red hair would brighten the landscape; +but it came not, and the Skipper was not one to +neglect a possible customer. Now and again he would +touch some one on the arm, and murmur gently, "In a few +moments presently, other exhibition in the cabin, to which +I have the pleasure of invite you. I attend in person, +which is free to visitors."</p> + +<p>He spoke without accent, the Skipper, but his sentences +were sometimes framed on foreign models, and it was no +wonder if now and then he met a blank stare. He looked +a little bored, possibly; these faces, full of idle wonder, +showed no trace of the collector's eager gaze; yet he +was content to wait, it appeared. Mr. Bill Hen Pike +judged, from the way in which everything was trigged up, +that the schooner "cal'lated to make some stay hereabouts;" +and the Skipper did not contradict him, but +bowed gravely, and said, "In a few moments, gentleman, +do me the honour to descend to the cabin, where I take the +pleasure of exhibit remarkable collection of shells."</p> + +<p>But now the Skipper raised his head, and became in a +moment keenly alert; for a new figure was seen making +its slow way to the wharf,—a new figure, and a singular +one.</p> + +<p>An old man, white-haired and wizen, with a face like a +knife-blade, and red, blinking eyes. The face wore a look +of eager yet doleful anticipation, as of a man going to +execution and possessed with an intense desire to feel the +edge of the axe. His thin fingers twitched and fumbled +about his pockets, his lips moved, and he shook his head +from time to time. This old gentleman was clad in nankeen +trousers of ancient cut, a velvet waistcoat and a blue +swallow-tail coat, all greatly too large for him. His scant +locks were crowned by a cheap straw hat of the newest +make, his shoes and gaiters were of a twenty-year-old +pattern. Altogether, he was not an ordinary-looking old +gentleman, nor was his appearance agreeable; but the village +people took no special notice of him, being well used +to Mr. Endymion Scraper and his little ways. They knew +that he was wearing out the clothes that his extravagant +uncle had left behind him at his death, twenty years ago. +They had seen three velvet waistcoats worn out, and one of +brocade; there were sixteen left, as any woman in the +village could tell you. As for the nankeen trousers, some +people said there were ten dozen of them in the great oak +chest, but that might be an exaggeration.</p> + +<p>Walking just behind this pleasant old person, with feet +that tried to go sedately, and not betray by hopping and +skippings the joy that was in them, came the boy John; +brought along in case there should be a parcel to carry. +Mr. Scraper had brought, too, his supple bamboo cane, in +case of need; it was a cane of singular parts, and had a +way that was all its own of curling about the legs and +coming up "rap" against the tender part of the calf. The +boy John was intimately acquainted with the cane; therefore, +when his legs refused to go steadily, but danced in +spite of him, he had dropped behind Mr. Endymion, and +kept well out of reach of the searching snake of polished +cane.</p> + +<p>The Skipper greeted the new-comer with his loftiest +courtesy, which was quite thrown away on the old gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Hey! hey!" said Mr. Scraper, nodding his head, and +fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, "got some shells, I +hear! Got some shells, eh? Nothing but rubbish, I'll +swear; nothing but rubbish. Seen 'em all before you were +born; not worth looking at, I'll bet a pumpkin."</p> + +<p>"Why, Deacon Scraper, how you do talk!" exclaimed +pretty Lena Brown, who was standing near by. "The +shells are just elegant, I think; too handsome for anything."</p> + +<p>"All rubbish! all rubbish!" the old gentleman repeated, +hastily. "Children's nonsense, every bit of it. Have +you got anything out of the common, though? have you, +hey?"</p> + +<p>He looked up suddenly at the Skipper, screwing his little +eyes at him like animated corkscrews; but he read nothing +in the large, calm gaze that met his.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman please to step down in the cabin," the +Skipper said, with a stately gesture. "At liberty in a +moment, I shall take the pleasure to exhibit my collection. +The gentleman is a collector?" he added, quietly; but +this Mr. Scraper would not hear of.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort!" he cried, testily, "nothing of +the sort! Just came down here with this fool boy, to +keep him from falling into the water. Don't know one +shell from another when I see 'em."</p> + +<p>This astounding statement brought a low cry from John, +who had been standing on one foot with joy and on the +other with fear, the grave dignity of his new friend filling +him with awe. Perhaps he would not be noticed now, +when all the grown people were here; perhaps—but his +thoughts were put to flight by Mr. Scraper's words. John +was a truthful boy, and he could not have the Spanish man +think he had lied in saying that the old man was a +collector. He was stepping forward, his face alight with +eager protest, when Mr. Endymion Scraper brought his +cane round with a backward sweep, catching John on the +legs with spiteful emphasis. The Skipper saw it, and a +dark red flushed through the bronze of his cheek. His +glance caught the child's and held it, speaking anger, cheer, +and the promise of better things; the boy dropped back +and rubbed his smarting shins, well content, with a warm +feeling about the heart.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman will step down to the cabin," said the +deep, quiet voice. "I will attend him, the ladies also."</p> + +<p>He led the way, and pretty Lena Brown came next; she +glanced up at him as he held out his strong hand to help +her down the ladder. Her blue eyes were very sweet as +she met his gaze, and the faint wild-rose blush became her +well. Certainly, Lena was a very pretty girl. Franci +nearly tumbled over the companion-rail in his endeavours +to look after her, and Laurentus Woodcock, catching one +glimpse of her face, retreated to the farthest corner of the +after-deck, and sold a Triton for ten cents, when the lowest +price was thirty.</p> + +<p>Several other persons came down into the cabin at the +same time. There was Mr. Bill Hen Pike. Mr. Bill Hen +had been a sailor himself fifty years ago, and it was a +point of honour with him to visit anything with keel and +sails that came up the river. He used nautical expressions +whenever it could be managed, and was the village authority +on all sea-going matters.</p> + +<p>There were Isaac Cutter and his wife, who had money +to spend, and were not averse to showing it; there was +Miss Eliza Clinch, who had spent her fifty years of life in +looking for a bargain, which she had not yet found; and +some others. But though the Skipper was courteous to +all, he kept close to the side of Mr. Endymion Scraper; +and the boy John, and Lena Brown, who was always kind +to him, kept close beside the other two. The girl was +enchanted with what she saw, but her joy was chiefly in +the trinkets that filled the glass counter,—the necklaces +and bracelets, the shell hairpins and mother-of-pearl portemonnaies.</p> + +<p>"Aint they handsome?" she cried, over and over, surveying +the treasures with clasped hands and shining +eyes. "Oh, Johnny! isn't that just elegant? Did you +ever see such beautiful things? I don't think the President's +wife has no handsomer than them!"</p> + +<p>John frowned a little at these ecstasies, and glanced at +the Skipper; but the Skipper was apparently absorbed in +polishing the Royal Tritons, and showing them to Mr, +Scraper, who regarded them with disdainful eyes, while +his fingers twitched to lay hold of them.</p> + +<p>"Why, Lena, you don't want to be looking at those +things!" the boy urged. "See! here are the shells! +Here are the real ones, not made up into truck, but just +themselves. Oh, oh! Lena, look!"</p> + +<p>The Skipper was coming forward with a shell in his +hand of exquisite colour and shape.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the young lady like to see this?" he said. +"This the Voluta Musica,—a valuable shell, young lady. +You look, and see the lines of the staff on the shell, so? +Here they run, you see! The mermaids under the water, +they have among themselves no sheet-music, so on shells +they must read it. Can the young lady follow the notes +if she take the shell in her hand?"</p> + +<p>He laid the lovely thing in the girl's hand, and marked +how the polished lip and the soft pink palm wore the +same tender shade of rose; but he said nothing of this, +for he was not Franci.</p> + +<p>Lena examined the shell curiously. "It does look like +music!" she said. "But there ain't really any notes, are +there? Not like our notes, I mean. If there was, I +should admire to see how they sounded on the reed organ. +It would make a pretty pin, if 't wasn't so big!"</p> + +<p>She was about to hand the shell back quietly—she +looked like a rose-leaf in moonlight, this pretty Lena, but +she was practical, and had little imagination—but John +caught it from her with a swift yet timorous motion.</p> + +<p>"I want to hear it," he said, his pleading eyes on the +Skipper's face. "I want to hear what it says!"</p> + +<p>The dark man nodded and smiled; but a moment later, +seeing the lean fingers of Mr. Endymion Scraper about to +clutch the treasure, he took it quietly in his own hand +again, and turned to the old man.</p> + +<p>"Gentleman spoke to me?" he inquired, blandly.</p> + +<p>The gentleman had not spoken, but had made a series +of gasps and grunts, expressive of extreme impatience and +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"That's a poor specimen," he cried now, eying the +shell greedily, "a very poor specimen! What do you +expect to get for it, hey?"</p> + +<p>"A perfect specimen!" replied the Skipper, calmly. +"The gentleman has but to look at it closer"—and he +held it nearer to the greedy corkscrew eyes—"to see +that it is a rare specimen, more perfect than often seen in +museums. I brought up this shell myself, with care +choosing it; its price is five dollars."</p> + +<p>Mr. Endymion Scraper gave a scream, which he tried +to turn into a disdainful chuckle.</p> + +<p>"Five cents would be nearer it!" he cried, angrily. +"Think we're all fools down here, hey? Go 'long with +your five dollars."</p> + +<p>"No, Señor, not all fools!" said the Skipper. "Many +varieties among men, as among shells. I am in no haste +to sell the Voluta Musica. It has its price, as gentleman +knows by his catalogue. Here is a razor-shell; perhaps +the gentleman like that. Shave yourself or other people +with this!"</p> + +<p>"I want to know!" interposed Mrs. Isaac Cutter, leaning +forward eagerly, spectacles on nose. "Can folks +really shave with those, sir? They do look sharp, now, +don't they? What might you ask for a pair?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not very easy to grind, lady!" replied the +Skipper, with a smile which won Mrs. Isaac's heart. "Not +a rare shell, only fifty cents the pair. Thank you, +madam! To show you this? With gladness! This is +the Bleeding Tooth shell, found in plenty in West Indies. +They have also dentists under the sea, graciously observe. +See here,—the whole family! The baby, he have as yet +no tooth, the little gum smooth and white. Here, the +boy! (<i>Como ti</i>, Juan Colorado!" this in a swift aside, +caught only by John's ear.) "The boy, he have a tooth +pulled, you observe, madam; here the empty space, with +blood-mark, thus. Hence the name, Bleeding Tooth. Here +the father, getting old, has lost two teeth, bleeding much; +and this being the old grandfather, all teeth are gone, +again. Yes, curious family! You kindly accept these +persons, madam, with a wish that you never suffer of this +manner."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Isaac Cutter drew a long breath, and took the +shells with a look of delighted awe. "Well, I'm sure!" +she said, "you're more than kind, sir. I never thought—I +do declare—Bleeding Tooth! Well, father, if that isn't +something to tell the folks at home!" Mr. Isaac Cutter +grunted, well pleased, and said, "That so!" several times, +his vocabulary being limited.</p> + +<p>"Again, here," the Skipper continued, with a glance +around, to make sure that his audience was attentive, +"again, here a curious thing, ladies and gentlemen. The +Nighthawk shell, not common in any part of the world. +The two halves held together of this manner, behold the +nighthawk, as he flies through the air!"</p> + +<p>A murmur of delight ran through the little group, and +Mr. Endymion Scraper edged to the front, his fingers +twitching convulsively.</p> + +<p>"How much—how much do you want for that Nighthawk?" +he asked, stammering with eagerness. "'Taint +wuth much, but—what—ten dollars? I'll give ye three, +and not a cent more."</p> + +<p>But the Skipper put him aside with a wave of his hand.</p> + +<p>"Another time, sir," he said; "at future interview I will +make arrangements with you, and hope to satisfy; at present +I instruct these ladies a little in life under the sea.</p> + +<p>"Lady," he said, and it was observable that although he +spoke to Mrs. Isaac Cutter, his eyes rested on Lena, and on +the boy John, who stood behind her, "Nature of her abundance +is very generous to the sea. Here all fishes swim, +great and small; but more! All things that on earth find +their place, of them you find a picture, copy, what you +please to call it, at the bottom of the sea. A few only are +yet found by men, yet strange things also have I seen. +Not under the ocean do you think to find violets growing, is +it so? yet here you observe a handful of violets, in colour as +on a green bank, though without perfume, the sunshine +wanting in those places."</p> + +<p>He drew from a box some of the exquisite little violet +snail-shells, and gave them to Lena, who cried out with +delight, and instantly resolved to have a pair of ear-rings +made of them.</p> + +<p>"The ladies are hungry?" the quiet voice went on. +"They desire breakfast? I offer them a poached egg, +grown under the sea. The colour and shape perfect; the +water ladies eat them every morning, but with the air they +grow hard and lose their flavour. Thank you, madam! for +thirty cents only, the poached egg, not a rare variety. Your +smile perhaps will make it soft again. I hope you enjoy it +at luncheon.</p> + +<p>"But before luncheon you desire to prepare your charming +toilet? Here I offer you a comb, ladies, as they use +under the sea. The story, that Venus, goddess of beauty, +when she rose from the ocean, dropped from her hand the +comb with which she arranged even then her locks of gold: +hence the name, Venus's Comb. Observe the long teeth, +necessary for fine hair, like that of Venus and these ladies."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Isaac Cutter bridled, smoothed her "fluffy Fedora" +(price one dollar and fifty cents, ready curled), and bought +the "comb" on the spot.</p> + +<p>"Of little boys under the sea," the Skipper continued,—and +once more his smile fell on the boy John, and produced +that agreeable sensation of warmth about the heart to which +the little fellow had been long unaccustomed,—"there are +many. They swim about, they play, they sport, they go to +school, as little boys here. They ride, some persons have +told me, on the horse-mackerel, but of that I have no +knowledge. I see for myself, however, that they play tops, +the small sea-boys. Here, little gentleman, is the Imperial +Top,—very beautiful shell. You like to take it in your +hand?"</p> + +<p>John took the splendid thing, and straightway lost himself +and the world in a dream of rapture, in which he +descended to the depths that his soul desired, and played at +spinning tops with the sea-boys, and rode a horse-mackerel, +and did many other wonderful things.</p> + +<p>"The bat shell!" the Skipper went on, lifting one treasure +and then another. "The Voluta Aulica, extremely +rare,—the Mitres, worn by bishops under the sea. The +bishops must be chosen very small, lady, to fit the shell, +since shells were made first. The Queen Conch! This +again,—pardon me, gentleman, you desire to assist me? +Too kind, but I shall not give that trouble to a visitor!"</p> + +<p>The last remark was addressed to Mr. Endymion Scraper, +who had for the last five minutes been sidling quietly, and +as he thought unobserved, toward the shelf on which lay +the Voluta Musica. His claw-like fingers, after hovering +over the prize, had finally closed upon it, and he was about +to slip it into his pocket without more ado, when a strong +brown hand descended upon his wrist. The shell was +quietly taken from him, and looking up in impotent rage, +he met the dark eyes of the Skipper gazing at him with +cheerful gravity.</p> + +<p>"Price five dollars!" he murmured, courteously. "In +a box, gentleman? But, certainly! A valuable specimen. +Thank you kindly. Five-dollar bill, quite right! Exhibition +is over for this morning, ladies and gentlemen, to +resume in afternoon hours, if graciously pleased to honour +the shell schooner,—schooner 'Nautilus,' from the Bahamas, +with remarkable collection of marine curiosities."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">ABOARD THE "NAUTILUS."<br /></p> + +<p><br />The shell schooner had many visitors during the next +few days, as she lay by the wharf; visitors, of +whom a few came to buy, but by far the greater part to +look and gossip, and see the monkeys, and ask questions. +The monkeys, Jack and Jim, were no small part of the +attraction, being delightful little beasts, bright of eye and +friendly of heart, always ready to turn a somersault, or to +run up the mast, or to make a bow to the ladies (always +with Franci in their hearts), as the Skipper directed them.</p> + +<p>Of course John was there at every available minute, +whenever he could escape the searching of his guardian's +eye and tongue; but Mr. Scraper himself came several +times to the "Nautilus;" so did pretty Lena Brown. +There was no doubt that Lena was a charming girl. She +looked like moonlight, Rento thought; John thought so, +too, though he knew that the resemblance went no further +than looks. Her hair was soft and light, with a silvery +glint when the sun struck it, and it had a pretty trick +of falling down about her forehead in two Madonna-like +bands, framing the soft, rose-tinted cheeks sweetly enough, +and hiding with the pale shining tresses the narrowness +of the white forehead.</p> + +<p>Lena was apt to come with John, to whom she was +always kind, though she thought him "cracked," and after +a little desultory hovering about the shells, for which she +did not really care, except when they were made up with +glass beads, she was apt to sit down on the after-deck, with +John beside her (unless the Skipper appeared, in which +case the boy flew to join his new friend), and with Franci, +or Rento, or both, sure to be near by. The monkeys never +failed to come and nestle down beside the boy, and +examine his pockets and chatter confidentially in his ear; +and John always nodded and seemed to understand, which +Lena considered foolishness. She thought she came out of +pure kindness for the boy, because "that old gimlet never +would let him come alone, and the child was fairly possessed +about the shells;" but it is to be doubted whether +she would have come so often if it had not been for +Franci's admiring glances and Rento's deeper veneration, +which seldom dared to look higher than the hem of her +gown.</p> + +<p>She would sit very demurely on the after-deck, apparently +absorbed in the shells and corals that lay spread +before her; and by-and-by, it might be, Franci, who did +not suffer from shyness, would venture on something more +definite than admiring glances.</p> + +<p>He would show her the shells, making the most of his +knowledge, which was not extensive, and calling in invention +when information failed; but he liked better to talk +of himself, Franci, and on that subject there was plenty to +be said. He was a prince, he told Lena, in South America, +where he came from. This was a poor country, miserable +country; but in his own the houses were all of marble, +pink marble, with mahogany door-steps.</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Lena would say, raising her limpid eyes +to the dark velvety ones that were bent so softly on her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, fine! fine!" said Franci. "Never I eat from a +china dish in my country; silver, all silver! Only the +pigs eat from china. Drink wine, eat peaches and ice-cream +all days, all time. My sister wear gold clothes, +trimmed diamonds, when she do her washing. Yes! Like +to go there?" and he bent over Lena with an enchanting +smile.</p> + +<p>"Why do you tell such lies?" asked John, whom Franci +had not observed, as he was lying in one of the schooner's +boats, with a monkey on either arm. Franci's smile deepened +as he turned toward the boy, swearing softly in Spanish, +and feeling in his breast; but at that moment Rento +happened to stroll that way, blushing deeply at Lena's +nearness, yet with a warlike expression in his bright blue +eyes. Franci told him he was the son of a pig that had +died of the plague, and that he, Franci, devoutly hoped +the son would share the fate of his mother, without time to +consult a priest. Rento replied that he could jaw as much +as he was a mind to, so long as he let the boy alone; and +Lena looked from one to the other with a flush on her +pretty cheek, and an instinct that made her heart beat a +little faster.</p> + +<p>Mr. Scraper's visits were apt to be made in the evening; +his passion for shells was like that for drink, and he +would fain have hidden it from the eyes of his neighbours. +It was always a trial to Franci to know that the old miser, +as he called Mr. Endymion, was in the cabin, and that he, +Franci, must keep watch on deck while this withered +anatomy sat on the cabin chairs and drank with the Patron. +Franci's way of keeping watch was to lie at full length on +the deck with his feet in the air, smoking cigarettes. It +was not the regulation way, but Franci did not care for +that. That beast of a Rento was asleep, snoring like a pig +that he was, while his betters must keep awake and gaze at +this desolating prospect; the Patron was in the cabin with +the miser, and no one thought of the individual who alone +gave charm to the schooner. He, Franci, would make himself +as comfortable as might be, and would not care a +puff of his cigar if the schooner and all that were in it, +except himself, should go to the bottom the next minute. +No! Rather would he dance for joy, and wave his hand, +and cry, "Good voyage, Patron! Good voyage, brute of a +pig-faced Rento! Good voyage, old 'Nautilus!' Go all to +the bottom with my blessing, and I dance on the wharf, +and marry the pretty Lena, and get all the old miser's money, +and wear velvet coats. Ah! Franci, my handsome little +boy, why did you let them send you to sea, hearts of stone +that they were! You, born to shine, to adorn, to break +the hearts of maidens! Why? tell me that!" He waved +his legs in the air, and contemplated with delight their +proportions, which were certainly exquisite. "Caramba!" +he murmured; "beauty, that is it! Otherwise one might +better be a swine,—yes, truly!"</p> + +<p>At this point, perhaps, Rento appeared, rubbing his eyes, +evidently just awake, and ready to take his watch; whereupon +the beautiful one sat up, and, fixing his eyes on his +fellow-seaman, executed a series of grimaces which did +great credit to his invention and power of facial expression. +Then he delivered himself of an harangue in purest +Spanish, to the effect that the day was not far distant when +he, Franci, would slit Rento's nose with a knife, and carve +his initials on his cheeks, and finally run him through the +so detestable body and give him to the fish to devour, +though with strong fears of his disagreeing with them. To +which Rento replied that he might try it just as soon as he +was a mind to, but that at this present moment he was to +get out; which the beautiful youth accordingly did, retiring +with a dancing step, expressive of scorn and disgust.</p> + +<p>On one such night as this the scene in the little cabin +was a curious one. A lamp burned brightly on the table, +and its lights shone on a number of objects, some lying +openly on the green table-cover, some reclining superbly in +velvet-lined cases. Shells! Yes, but not such shells as +were heaped in profusion on shelf and counter. Those +were lovely, indeed, and some of them of considerable value; +but it was a fortune, no less, that lay now spread before +the eyes of the Skipper and his guest. For these were +the days when fine shells could not be bought on every +hand, as they can to-day; when a good specimen of the +Imperial Harp brought two hundred and fifty dollars +easily, and when a collector would give anything, even to +the half of his kingdom (if he were a collector of the right +sort), for a Precious Wentletrap.</p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/Illus-050.gif"> +<img src="images/Illus-050.gif" width="271" height="400" +title="In the cabin" alt="In the cabin" /></a> +</p> + +<p>It was a Wentletrap on which the little red eyes of Mr. +Endymion Scraper were fixed at this moment. The +morocco case in which it lay was lined with crimson +velvet, and the wonderful shell shone purely white against +the glowing colour,—snow upon ice; for the body of the +shell was semi-transparent, the denser substance of the +spiral whorls turning them to heavy snow against the +shining clearness beneath them. Has any of my readers +seen a Precious Wentletrap? Then he knows one of the +most beautiful things that God has made.</p> + +<p>Apparently the Skipper had just opened the case, for Mr. +Scraper was sitting with his mouth wide open, staring at it +with greedy, almost frightened eyes. Truly, a perfect +specimen of this shell was, in those days, a thing seen only +in kings' cabinets; yet no flaw appeared in this, no blot +upon its perfect beauty. The old miser sat and stared, +and only his hands, which clutched the table-cloth in a convulsive +grasp, and his greedy eyes, showed that he was not +turned to stone. He had been amazed enough by the +other treasures, as the Skipper had taken them one by one +from the iron safe in the corner, whose door now hung +idly open. Where had been seen such Pheasants as these,—the +fragile, the exquisite, the rarely perfect? Even the +Australian Pheasant, rarest of all, lay here before him, +with its marvellous pencillings of rose and carmine and +gray. Mr. Endymion's mouth had watered at the mere +description of the shell in the catalogue, but he had never +thought to see one, except the imperfect specimen in the +museum at Havenborough. Here, too, was the Orange +Cowry; here the Bishop's Mitre, and the precious Voluta +Aulica; while yonder,—what was this man, that he should +have a Voluta Junonia, of which only a few specimens are +possessed in the known world? What did it all mean?</p> + +<p>The Skipper sat beside the table, quiet and self-contained +as usual. His arm lay on the table, his hand was never +far from the more precious shells, and his eyes did not +leave the old man's face; but he showed no sign of uneasiness. +Why should he, when he could have lifted Mr. +Endymion with his left hand and set him at any minute +at the top of the cabin stairs? Now and then he took up +a shell with apparent carelessness (though in reality he +handled them with fingers as fine as a woman's, knowing +their every tenderest part, and where they might best +be approached without offence to their delicacy), looked it +over, and made some remark about its quality or value; +but for the most part he was silent, letting the shells speak +for themselves and make their own effect.</p> + +<p>The old man had been wheezing and grunting painfully +for some minutes, opening and shutting his hands, and +actually scratching the table-cloth in his distress. At length +he broke out, after a long silence.</p> + +<p>"Who are ye, I want to know? How come you by +these shells? I know something about what they're wuth—that +is—well, I know they aint wuth what you say +they are, well enough; but they air wuth a good deal,—I +know that. What I want to understand is, what you're +after here! What do you want, and why do you show +me these things if—if—you come by them honestly. +Hey?"</p> + +<p>The Skipper smiled meditatively. "Yes!" he said, +"we all like to know things,—part of our nature, sir—part +of our nature. I, now, I like to know things, too. +What you going to do with that boy, Mr. Scrape? I like +to know that. You tell me, and perhaps you hear something +about the shells, who know?"</p> + +<p>The old man's face darkened into a very ugly look.</p> + +<p>"My name is Scraper, thank ye, not Scrape!" he said, +dryly; "and as for the boy, I don't know exactly where +you come in there."</p> + +<p>The Skipper nodded. "True!" he said, tracing with +his finger the fine lines of the Voluta Aulica; "you do not +know where I come in there. In us both, knowledge has +a limit, Mr. Scraper; yet I at the least am acquaint with +your name. It is a fine name you have there,—Endymion! +You should be a person of poetry, with this and your love +for shells, hein? You love, without doubt, to gaze on the +moon, Sir Scraper? You feel with her a connection, yes?"</p> + +<p>"What the dickens are you talking about?" asked the +old gentleman, testily. "How much do you want to swindle +me out of for this Junonia, hey? not that I shall buy +it, mind ye!"</p> + +<p>"Three hundred!" said the Skipper; "and a bargain at +that!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">MYSTERY.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />John was at work in the garden. At least, so it would +have appeared to an ordinary observer; in reality he +was carrying on a sanguinary combat, and dealing death +on every side. His name was George Washington, and +he was at Bunker Hill (where he certainly had no business +to be), and the British were intrenched behind the cabbages. +"They've just got down into the ground, they are +so frightened!" he said to himself, pausing to straighten +his aching back, and toss the red curls out of his eyes. +"See 'em, all scrooched down, with their feet in the earth, +trying to make believe they grow there! But I'll have 'em +out! Whack! there goes the general. Come out, I say!" +He wrestled fiercely with an enormous Britisher, disguised +as a stalk of pig-weed, and, after a breathless tussle, +dragged him bodily out of the ground, and flung his headless +corpse on the neighbouring pile of weeds.</p> + +<p>"Ha! that was fine!" cried the boy. "I shouldn't be +a bit surprised if that was George the Third himself; it +was ugly enough for him. Come up here! hi! down with +you! Now Jack the Giant-Killer is coming to help me, +and the British have got Cormoran (this was before Jack +killed him), and there's going to be a terrible row." But +General Washington waves his gallant sword, and calls to +his men, and says,—</p> + +<p>"Good morning, sir! you make a busy day, I see."</p> + +<p>It was not General Washington who spoke. It was +the Skipper, and he was leaning on the gate and looking +at the boy John and smiling. "You make a busy day," +he repeated. "I think there are soon no more weeds in +Sir Scraper's garden."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes!" cried John, straightening himself again, and +leaning on his trusty hoe. "There'll be just as many—I +beg your pardon! Good morning! I hope you are +well; it is a very fine day. There'll be just as many of +them to-morrow, or next day, certainly. I make believe +they are the British, you see, and I've been fighting all +the morning, and I do think they are pretty well licked by +this time; but they don't stay licked, the British don't. +I like them for that, don't you? Even though it is a +bother to go on fighting all the days of one's life."</p> + +<p>"I also have noticed that of the British!" the Skipper +said, nodding gravely. "But now you can rest a little, +Juan Colorado? Sir Scraper is at home, that you call him +for me, say I desire to make him the visit?"</p> + +<p>"No, he isn't at home," said John. "He's gone down +to the store for his mail. But please come in and wait, +and he'll be back soon. Do come in! It—it's cool to +rest, after walking in the sun."</p> + +<p>It was the only inducement the child could think +of, but he offered it with right good-will. The Skipper +assented with a smile and a nod, and the two passed into +the house together.</p> + +<p>In the kitchen, which was the living-room of the house, +John halted, and brought a chair for his visitor, and prepared +to play the host as well as he could; but the visitor +seemed, for some reason, not to fancy the kitchen. He +looked around with keen, searching eyes, scanning every +nook and corner in the bare little room. Truly, there +was not much to see. The old fireplace had been blocked +up, and in its place was the usual iron cooking-stove, with +a meagre array of pots and pans hanging behind it. The +floor was bare; the furniture, a table and chair, with a +stool for John. There was no provision for guests; but +that did not matter, as Mr. Scraper never had guests. +Altogether, there was little attraction in the kitchen, and +the Skipper seemed curiously displeased with its aspect.</p> + +<p>"There is no other room?" he asked, after completing +his survey. "No better room than this, Colorado? Surely, +there must be one other; yes, of course!" he added, as if +struck by a sudden thought. "His shells? Mr. Scraper +has shells. They are—where?"</p> + +<p>He paused and looked sharply at the boy. Little John +coloured high. "The—the shells?" he stammered. +"Yes, of course, sir, the shells are in another room, in +the parlour; but—but—I am not let go in there, unless +Mr. Scraper sends me."</p> + +<p>"So!" said the dark man; "but for me, Colorado, how is +it for me? Mr. Scraper never said to me that I must not +go in this parlour, you see. For you it is well, you do as +you are told; you are a boy that makes himself to trust; +for me, I am a Skipper from the Bahamas, I do some +things that are strange to you,—among them, this. I go +into the parlour."</p> + +<p>He nodded lightly, and leaving the child open-mouthed +in amazement, opened the sacred door, the door of the +best parlour, and went in, as unconcernedly as if it were +his own cabin. John, standing at the door,—he surely +might go as far as the door, if he did not step over the +threshold,—watched him, and his eyes grew wider and +wider, and his breath came quicker and quicker.</p> + +<p>For the Skipper was doing strange things, as he had +threatened. Advancing quickly into the middle of the +room, he cast around him the same searching glance with +which he had scanned the kitchen. He went to the window, +and threw back the blinds. The sunlight streamed +in, as if it, too, were eager to see what shrouded treasures +were kept secluded here. Probably the blinds had not +been thrown back since Gran'ther Scraper died.</p> + +<p>The parlour was scarcely less grim than the kitchen, +though there was a difference in its grimness. Seven chairs +stood against the wall, like seven policemen with their +hands behind their backs; a table crouched in the middle, +its legs bent as if to spring. The boy John considered the +table a monster, transformed by magic into its present +shape, and likely to be released at any moment, and to leap +at the unwary intruder. Its faded cover, with two ancient +ink-blots which answered for eyes, fostered this idea, which +was a disquieting one. On the wall hung two silver coffin-plates +in a glass case, testifying that Freeborn Scraper, +and Elmira his wife, had been duly buried, and that their +coffins had presented a good appearance at the funeral. +But the glory of the room, in the boy John's eyes, was the +cabinet of shells which stood against the opposite wall. +He had once thought this the chief ornament of the +world; he knew better now, but still he regarded its +treasures with awe and veneration, and looked to see the +expression of delight which should overspread the features +of his new friend at sight of it. What, then, was his +amazement to see his new friend pass over the cabinet +with a careless glance, as if it were the most ordinary +thing in the world! Evidently, it was not shells that he +had come to see; and the boy grew more and more mystified. +Suddenly the dark eyes lightened; the whole face +flashed into keen attention. What had the Skipper seen? +Nothing, apparently, but the cupboard in the corner, the +old cupboard where Mr. Scraper kept his medicines. The +old man had sent John to this cupboard once, when he +himself was crippled with rheumatism, to fetch him a bottle +of the favourite remedy of the day. John remembered its +inward aspect, with rows of dusty bottles, and on the upper +shelf, rows of still more dusty papers. What could the +Skipper see to interest him in the corner cupboard? Something, +certainly! For now he was opening the cupboard, +quietly, as if he knew all about it and was looking for +something that he knew to be there.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said the Skipper; and he drew a long breath, as +of relief. "True, the words! In the corner of the parlour, +a cupboard of three corners, with bottles filled, and over +the bottles, papers. Behold the cupboard, the bottles, the +papers! A day of fortunes!" He bent forward, and +proceeded to rummage in the depths of the cupboard; but +this was too much for John's conscience. "I beg your +pardon, sir!" he said, timidly. "But—do you think you +ought to do that?"</p> + +<p>The Skipper looked out of the cupboard for an instant, +and his eyes were very bright. "Yes, Colorado," he said. +"I think I ought to do this! Oh, very much indeed, my +friend, I ought to do this! And here,"—he stepped +back, holding something in his hand,—"here, it is done! +No more disturbance, Colorado; I thank you for your +countenance.</p> + +<p>"Do we now make a promenade in the garden, to see +your work?</p> + +<p>"Yet," he added, pausing and again looking around him, +"but yet once more I observe. This room,"—it was strange, +he did not seem to like the parlour any better than he had +liked the kitchen—"this room, to live in! a young person, +figure it, Colorado! gentle, with desires, with dreams +of beauty, and this only to behold! For companion an +ancient onion,—I say things that are improper, my son! +I demand pardon! But for a young person, a maiden to +live here, would be sad indeed, do you think it?"</p> + +<p>John pondered, in wonder and some trouble of mind. +There was something that he had to say, something very +hard; but it would not be polite just now, and he must +answer a question when he was asked. "I—I thought it +was a fine room!" he said at length, timidly. "It isn't as +bright, somehow, as where I used to live with my mother, +and—it seems to stay shut up, even when it isn't; but—I +guess it's a fine room, sir; and then, if a person didn't +like it, there's all out-doors, you know, and that's never +shut up."</p> + +<p>"True!" cried the Skipper, with a merry laugh; "out +of doors is never shut up, praise be to Heaven!" He +pulled off his cap, and looked up at the shining sky. They +were standing on the door-step now, and John noticed that +his companion seemed much less grave than usual. He +laughed, he patted the boy on the shoulder, he hummed +snatches of strange, sweet melodies. Once or twice he +broke out into speech, but it was foreign speech, and John +knew nothing save that it was something cheerful. They +walked about the garden, and the Skipper surveyed John's +work, and pronounced it prodigious. He questioned the +child closely, too, as to how he lived, and what he did, and +why he stayed with Mr. Scraper. But the child could tell +him little. He supposed it was all right; his mother was +dead, and there was nobody else, and Mr. Scraper said he +was his father's uncle, and that the latter had appointed +him guardian over John in case of the mother's death. +That was all, he guessed.</p> + +<p>"All, my faith!" cried the Skipper, gayly. "Enough, +too, Colorado! quite enough, in the opinion of me. But I +go, my son! Till a little while; you will come to-day to +the 'Nautilus,' yes?"</p> + +<p>But little John stood still in the path, and looked up in +his friend's face. The time had come when he must do the +hard thing, and it was harder even than he had thought it +would be. His throat was very dry, and he tried once or +twice before the words would come. At last—"I beg +your pardon!" he said. "I am only a little boy, and perhaps +there is something I don't understand; but—but—I +don't think you ought to have done that!"</p> + +<p>"Done what, son of mine?" asked the Skipper, gazing +down at him with the bright, kind eyes that he loved, and +that would not be kind the next moment, perhaps. +"What is it I have done?"</p> + +<p>"To take the papers!" said John; and now his voice +was steady, and he knew quite well what he must say, if +only his heart would not beat so loud in his ears! "I +don't think it was right; but perhaps you know things +that make it right for you. But—but Mr. Scraper left +me here, to take care of the house, and—and I shall +have to tell him that you went into the parlour and took +things out of the cupboard."</p> + +<p>There was silence for a moment,—silence, all but the +throbbing that seemed as if it must deafen the child, as it +was choking him. He stood looking at the ground, his +face in a flame, his eyes full of hot, smarting tears. Was +it he who had stolen the papers? Surely anyone would +have thought so who saw his anguish of confusion. And +the Skipper did not speak! And this was his friend, the +first heart-friend the child had ever had, perhaps the only +one that would ever come to him, and he was affronting +him, casting him off, accusing him of vileness! Unable to +bear the pain any longer, the child looked up at last, and +as he did so, the tears overflowed and ran down his round +cheeks. The dark eyes were as kind as ever. They were +smiling, oh, so tenderly! John hid his face on his blue +sleeve, and sobbed to his heart's content; somehow, without +a word, the dreadful pain was gone, and the blessed +feeling had returned that this friend knew all about +things, and understood little boys, and liked them.</p> + +<p>The Skipper did not speak for a moment, only stood and +stroked the boy's curly hair with a light, soft touch, almost +as his mother used to stroke it. Then he said, in his deep, +grave voice, that was sweeter than music, John thought.</p> + +<p>"Colorado! my little son, my friend!" That was enough +for a few minutes, till the sobs were quieted, and only the +little breast heaved and sank, tremulously, like the breast +of a frightened bird. Then the Skipper led him to a rustic +bench, and sat down beside him, and took his hand.</p> + +<p>"And that hurt you to say, my little son?" he said, +smiling. "That hurt you, because you thought it would +vex the friend from the Bahamas, the friend who steals. +And yet you like him a little, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried John, looking up with all his heart in his +blue eyes; and no other word was needed.</p> + +<p>"See, then!" the Skipper went on, still holding the +boy's hand; "it is that you are right, Colorado, oh, very +right, my son! and I, who am old, but old enough to be +twice to you a father, I thought not of this. Yes, you +must tell Sir Scraper, if—if I do not tell him first." He +was silent a moment, thinking; and then continued, speaking +slowly, choosing his words with care: "Is it that +you think, Colorado, it would be wrong to wait a little +before you tell Sir Scraper—if I said, till to-morrow? +If I ask you to wait, and then, if I have not told him, you +shall tell him,—what do you say of that, my son?"</p> + +<p>John looked helplessly around, his blue eyes growing big +and wistful again. "If—if he should ask me!" he said. +"I am sure you know all about it, and that it is all right +for you, but if he should ask me—you see—I—I should +have to answer him, shouldn't I?"</p> + +<p>"You would have to answer him!" the Skipper repeated, +frowning thoughtfully. "And you could not tell him that +there were flying-fish in the cabin, eh, Colorado? Wait +then, that your friend thinks. The mind moves at times +slowly, my son, slowly!"</p> + +<p>He was silent, and John watched him, breathless.</p> + +<p>Presently, "Will you come with me, Colorado?" asked +the Skipper. "I invite you to come, to spend the day on +the 'Nautilus,' to play with Jack and Jim, to polish the +shells,—what you please. I desire not longer to wait here, +I desire not that yet Sir Scraper know of my visit. Had +he been here, other happenings might have been; as it is—shortly, +will you come with me, Colorado?"</p> + +<p>John shut his eyes tight, and took possession of his soul.</p> + +<p>"I promised!" he said, "I promised him that if he +would not whip me this morning I would not stir off the +place. He was mad because I went yesterday, and he was +going to give me a good one this morning, and I hadn't +got over the last good one, and so—I promised that! But +if I had known you were coming," he cried, "I would not +have promised, and I would have taken three good ones, if +I could only go."</p> + +<p>The Skipper nodded, and was silent again. Suddenly he +rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard of pirates, Colorado?" he asked, +abruptly.</p> + +<p>John nodded, wondering.</p> + +<p>"Of Malay pirates?" the Skipper continued, with animation. +"They are wild fellows, those! They come, +they see a person, they carry him off, to keep at their +fancy, till a ransom is paid, or till he grow old and die, +or till they kill him the next day, who knows? But +not all are bad fellows, and there are some of them who +are kind to captives, who take them on board their ships, +play with them, show to them strange things, shells and +fish and corals, all things. Have you ever played at +pirate, Colorado?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sometimes," the boy admitted, wondering still +more at the brightness in his friend's look, and his air of +sudden determination.</p> + +<p>"I never played Malay, only Portugee; I thought they +weren't so cruel, but I don't know. I had a ship down +by the wharf, and I made a good many pirate voyages +round the wharf, and sometimes quite a piece down +river, when I could get the time. But then, after a +while, I thought it was nicer to be a rescuing ship, and +get folks away from the pirates, you know, so I've done +that lately, and I've rescued as many as twenty vessels, +I should think."</p> + +<p>"That was fine!" said the Skipper, nodding sagely. +"That was well done, Colorado! But here we come to +trouble, do you see? for I that speak to you—I am a +Malay pirate!"</p> + +<p>The boy started violently and looked up, expecting he +knew not what sudden and awful change in the face that +bent down over him; but no! it was the same quiet, dark +face, only there was a bright gleam in the eyes. A +gleam of fun, was it? Surely not of ferocity.</p> + +<p>"I come up this river," the Skipper continued, rapidly, +"to see what I find,—perhaps gold, perhaps silver, perhaps +prisoners of value. I look about, I see the pleasant village, +I see persons very amiable, but no precious thing +except one; that one, I have it! I am a Malay pirate, +Colorado, and thus I carry off my prize!" and picking up +the child as if he were a feather, and tossing him up to +his shoulder, the Skipper strode from the garden, and took +his way toward the wharf.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">MR. BILL HEN.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />Mr. Bill Hen Pike had come to have a good long +gossip. It was some time since a schooner had +come up the river, for the ice-shipping had not yet begun, +and he was fairly thirsting for maritime intelligence. He +desired to know the tonnage of the "Nautilus," her age, +where she was built, and by whom; her original cost, and +what sums had been expended in repairs since she had +been in the Skipper's possession; how many trips she had +made, to what ports, and with what cargoes; the weather +that had been encountered on each and every trip. These +things and many more of like import did the Skipper +unfold, sitting at ease on the cabin table, while Mr. Bill +Hen tilted the only chair in rhythmic content. His hat +was tilted, too; his broad red face shone with pleasure; +the world was a good place to him, full of information.</p> + +<p>At last the questions came to an end; it seemed a pity, +but there was really nothing left to ask, since it appeared +that the Skipper was unmarried and had no relations. But +now the Skipper's own turn had come, and quietly, with +just enough show of interest to be polite, he began the +return game. "You have been at sea a large part of your +life, Señor Pike?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! yes! I'm well used to the sea. That is—off +and on, you know, off and on. I was mate on a coasting +schooner, saw a good deal that way, you know; like +the sea first-rate, but my wife, she won't hear to my going +off nowadays, and there's the farm to 'tend to, stock and +hay, var'ous things, var'ous things; all about it, my sea-going +days are over, yes, yes! Pleasant place, though, +pleasant place, though the strength going out of my legs +makes it troublesome by times, yes, yes! Been in these +parts before, you said? Oh, no! said you hadn't; beg your +pardon! Pleasant part of the country! good soil, good +neighbours."</p> + +<p>"Fine country, I should suppose!" said the Skipper; +"and as you say, sir, the persons agreeable for knowledge. +You know the boy whom I hear called John, with the old +gentleman who collects shells?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! ho!" said Mr. Bill Hen, delighted to find a fresh +subject of interest. "Deacon Scraper, yes, yes! well +named, sir, Deacon Scraper is, well named, you see! Very +close man, pizeon close they do say. Lived here all his +life, Deacon Scraper has, and made a fortune. Scraped +it, some say, out of folks as weren't so well off as he, +but I don't know. Keen after shells, the old gentleman, +yes, yes! like liquor to him, I've heard say. Never a man +to drink or what you might call royster, no way of the +world but just that; but get him off to Boston, or any +place where there were shells to be bought, and he'd come +home fairly drunk with 'em, his trunk busting out and all +his money gone. Seems cur'ous, too, for such an old rip +as Dym Scraper, <i>to</i> care for such things; but we're made +sing'lar,—one one way, and 'nother one t'other. That's so, +I reckon, in your part of the world as well as hereabouts?"</p> + +<p>The Skipper bowed his head gravely. "The nature of +humans is without doubt the same in many lands," he +said. "The little boy whom I hear called John,—he is of +near blood to this old gentleman, yes?"</p> + +<p>But here Mr. Bill Hen grew redder in the face, which +was a difficult feat, and smote the cabin table.</p> + +<p>"Burning shame it is about that youngster!" he +declared. "Burning shame, if ever there was one in this +mortal world. How some folks can set by and see things +going on <i>as</i> they're going on, beats me, and le' me say I'm +hard to beat. That child, sir, is an orphan; got no father +nor mother, let alone grandf'ther or grandm'ther, in the +land of the living. His father was some kind of a natural, +I guess, or else he hadn't known Deacon Scraper by sight +or hearing; but when he dies what does he do but leave +that old—old—beetle-bug guardeen of that child, case of +his mother dyin'. Well, if I'd ha' had children, I might leave +'em to a fox for guardeen, or I might leave 'em to a horned +pout, whichever I was a mind to, but I wouldn't leave 'em +to Dym Scraper, and you can chalk that up on the door any +ways you like." The good man paused, and puffed and +snorted for some minutes in silence. The Skipper waited, +his dark face quietly attentive, his eyes very bright.</p> + +<p>"Near blood?" Mr. Bill Hen broke out again, with +another blow on the table. "No, he aint so dretful near +blood, if you come to that. Near as the child's got, +though, seemin'ly. His father, Johnny's father, was son +to Freeborn Scraper, the Deacon's twin brother. Twins +they was, though no more alike than pork and peas. Them +two, and Zenoby, the sister, who married off with a furriner +and was never heerd of again; but she ain't in the +story, though some say she was her father's favourite, and +that Dym gave her no peace, after Freeborn left, till he got +rid of her. All about it, Freeborn went West young, and +spent his days there; lived comfortable, and left means +when he died. Dym Scraper, he went out to the funeral, +and run it, we heerd, Freeborn's wife being dead and his +son weakly; anyway, he brung back them two silver +coffin-plates that hangs in the parlour to his house. Next +thing we knew—good while after, y' understand, but first +thing <i>we</i> knew, here to the village—the son was dead, +too; Mahlon his name was, and had been weakly all his +days. Deacon Scraper went out agin, and kinder scraped +round, folks reckoned, 'peared to make of the young +widder, and meeched up to her, and all. Wal! And here +this last year, if <i>she</i> doesn't up and die! Sing'lar gift +folks has for dying out in them parts; living so fur from +the sea, I've always cal'lated. All about it, that old +spider goes out the third time, and no coffin-plates this +time, but he brings back the boy; and lo, ye! he's +made full guardeen over the child, and has him, body and +soul.</p> + +<p>"Now I aint a malicious man, no way of the world, +Mister,—well, whatever your name is. But I tell you, +that old weasel is laying for something ugly about that +youngster. Some say he's applied to send him to the +Reform School; good little boy as I'd want to see. I +believe it's so. Don't tell me! He's got money, that +child has, or land, and Dym Scraper means to have it. +The child's got no one in the world to look to, and folks +about here are so skeered of Deacon Scraper that they'll +set by, I believe, and see a thing like that done before +their eyes. I tell ye what, sir, I'm a church-member, and +I don't want to say nothing but what's right and proper; +but if there was a prophet anyways handy in these times +(and a mighty good thing to have round, too), there'd +be fire and brimstun called, down on Dym Scraper, and the +hull village would turn out to see him get it, too!"</p> + +<p>"But you, sir!" said the Skipper, who had his knife +out now, and was carving strange things on the table, as +was his manner when moved. "You will not permit such +a thing, a person of heart as you have the air to be? No, +you will not permit that a thing enormous take place at +your side?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen's face grew purple; he drew out a large +handkerchief and wiped his forehead, puffing painfully; +there was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Married man?" he said, at length. "No, beg your +pardon, unmarried, I remember. Well, sir, you may know +something of life, but there's a sight you don't know +yet. See?"</p> + +<p>Again there was silence, the Skipper gazing darkly at +his carven runes, Mr. Bill Hen still puffing and wiping +his brow.</p> + +<p>"Yes, there's a sight you don't know about," he said +again. "My wife, you see, she's a good woman, there's no +better woman round; but she's masterful, sir, she's masterful, +and I'm a man who's always led a quiet life and +desire peace. And there's more behind; though why on +the airth I'm telling you all this is more than I can tell!"</p> + +<p>The last words came with a peevish outburst, and he +hesitated, as if minded to say no more; but the Skipper +raised his head, and the dark eyes sent out a compelling +glance. The weaker man faltered, gave way, and resumed +his speech.</p> + +<p>"She's a masterful woman, I tell ye! She thinks +Deacon Scraper is a dangerous man, and there aint nobody +here but what'll agree with her that far. Then—he—he's +got a mortgage on my farm, same as he has on +others,—plenty of others as is better clothed with means +than ever I've been; and, all about it, my wife aint +willing for us to make an enemy of the old man. That's +where the land lays, and you can see for yourself. Plenty +in the village is fixed the same way; he's got power, that +old grape-skin has, power over better men than he. We +don't want to see that child put upon, but we aint no blood +to him, and there aint anybody but feels that he himself +aint just the one to interfere. That's the way my wife +feels, and I,—well, there now! you're a stranger, and I may +never set eyes on you again; but I take to you, somehow, +and I don't mind telling you that I feel as mean as dirt +whenever I think of that lamb in that old fox's den; mean +as dirt I feel, and yet I aint got the spunk to—the strenth +is gone out of my legs," he added, piteously, "these ten +years back, and I think some of my sperrit went with it. +That's where it is! I haint got the sperrit to stand up +against 'em."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, and then the Skipper shut +his knife with a click, and rose from the table, holding out +his hand.</p> + +<p>"You are a good man, Señor Pike," he said. "I +think no worse of you, and am glad to make the +acquaintance. With regard to this child, I shall remind +you,"—here he shook his head with a backward gesture +in which there was something at once proud and humble.—"I +shall remind you that there are powers very high, +more high than of prophets; and that God will do the +works as seems Him good. I may have the honour to wait +upon your distinguished lady at a future day; I think to +be some days in this place, for purposes of selling my +cargo, as well to take in wood and water. Never before in +these parts, it is for me of interest to observe the place and +people. You will take a lemonade that Franci brings? +Hola, Franci! This is Señor Pike, Franci, at all times to +be admitted to the schooner."</p> + +<p>"Pleased to meet you!" said Mr. Bill Hen.</p> + +<p>"Servicio de Usted!" said Franci, who did not understand +English except when he thought the speaker was +likely to interest him; and they sat down to the lemonade.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">THE CAPTIVE.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />"Franci!" the Skipper called up the companion-way, +when his visitor had taken his departure.</p> + +<p>"Señor!" said Franci, putting his beautiful head over +the rail.</p> + +<p>"Bring me here the child, hear thou!"</p> + +<p>"Si, Señor," said Franci. He went forward, and pulling +aside a pile of canvas that lay carelessly heaped together in +a corner of the deck, disclosed the boy John, curled up in +a ball, with one monkey in his arms, and the other sitting +on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Here, you, Sir Schoolmaster, the Patron ask for you. I +give you my hand to hellup you up! I like to put a knife +in you!" he added in Spanish, with an adorable smile.</p> + +<p>"You'd get one into yourself before you had time!" +said Rento, getting up from the spot where his length had +been coiled, and speaking with a slow drawl that lent +emphasis to the words. "You ever lay a hand on that +boy, and it's the last you lay on anybody,—understand +that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yays!" said Franci, gently, as he pulled John out +of the tangle of canvas and ropes. "But I am 'most killed +all my life with looking at your ugly face, you old she +monkey! A little more killing make not much difference +to me."</p> + +<p>Rento advanced toward him with uplifted hand, and the +agile Spaniard slipped round the mast and disappeared.</p> + +<p>"What was he saying?" asked John, vaguely feeling +that something was wrong.</p> + +<p>"Nothin', nothin' at all," Rento said, quietly. "He was +givin' me some talk, that was all. It's all he has to give, +seemin'ly; kind o' fool person he is, Franci; don't ye take +no heed what he says. There, go 'long, youngster! the +Skipper's lookin' for ye."</p> + +<p>At this moment the Skipper's head appeared over the +rail, and John became quite sure that he was awake. Dreams +were so curious, sometimes, one never knew what would +happen in them; and this whole matter of piracy had been +so strange and unlooked for that all the while he had been +hidden under the sail (where he had retreated by the +Skipper's orders as soon as Mr. Bill Hen Pike appeared in +the offing), he had been trying to persuade himself that he +was asleep, and that the monkeys were dream-monkeys, +very lively ones, and that by-and-by he would wake up +once more and find himself in bed at Mr. Scraper's.</p> + +<p>But now there could be no more doubt! He could not +dream Franci, nor the queer things he said; he could not +dream Rento, with his kind, ugly face and drawling speech; +least of all could he dream the Skipper, who was now looking +at him with an amused smile.</p> + +<p>Certainly, he did not look in the least like a pirate! In +the first place, Malay pirates did not wear anything, except +a kind of short petticoat, and something that flew in +the air behind them as they ran. For in the geography-book +pictures a Malay was always running amuck, with +a creese in his hand, and an expression of frantic rage +on his countenance. How <i>could</i> this be a Malay? +Perhaps he might have been in fun! But John was +not much used to fun, and it seemed hardly likely that +so grave a person as the Skipper would play at pirate. +On the whole, the little boy was sadly puzzled; and the +Skipper's first words did not tend to allay his anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Ha! my prisoner!" he said. "That you come here, +sir, and sit down by me on the rail. The evening falls, +and we will sit here and observe the fairness of the night. +Remark that I put no chains on you, Colorado, as in the +Malay seas we put them! You can swim, yes?"</p> + +<p>John nodded. "I swam across the river last week," +said he. "I was going to—" He meant to say, "to +rescue some people from pirates," but now this did not seem +polite; so he stopped short, but the Skipper took no +notice.</p> + +<p>"You swim? That is good!" he said. "But Sir +Scraper, he cannot swim, I think, my son, so for you there +is no rescue, since Rento has pulled in the plank. Are +you content, then, to be the captive of the 'Nautilus?'"</p> + +<p>John looked up, still sorely puzzled; perhaps he was +rather dull, this little boy John, about some things, +though he was good at his books. At any rate, there +could be no possible doubt of the kindness in the Skipper's +face; perhaps he was in fun, after all; and, anyhow, where +had he ever been so happy as here since the good mother +died? So he answered with right good-will,—</p> + +<p>"I like to stay here more than anywhere else in the +world. If—if I didn't think Mr. Scraper would be +angry and frightened about me, and not know where I +was, I should like to stay on board all my life."</p> + +<p>"That is right!" said the Skipper, heartily. "That +is the prisoner that I like to have. I am not a cruel +pirate, as some; I like to make happy my captives. Franci, +lemonade, on the after-deck here!" He spoke in Spanish, +and Franci replied in the same language, with a faint voice +expressive of acute suffering.</p> + +<p>"I am very sick, Patron. I go to my bed in a desolated +condition."</p> + +<p>"Come here, and let me look at you!" said the Skipper, +imperatively.</p> + +<p>"Am I a dog, to fetch drink for this beggar brat?" was +Franci's next remark, in a more vigorous tone. "Was it +for this that I left San Mateo? Rento is a pig, let him +do the pig things. I go to my bed."</p> + +<p>He made a motion to go, but the Skipper reached out a +long arm, and the next moment the bold youth was dangling +over the side of the vessel, clutching at the air, and +crying aloud to all the saints in the calendar.</p> + +<p>"Shall I let go?" asked the Skipper, in his quiet tone.</p> + +<p>"Ah! no, distinguished Patron!" cried Franci. "Let +me not go! This water is abominable. Release me, and +I will get the lemonade. It is my wish that you may both +be drowned in it, but I will get it,—oh, yes, assuredly!"</p> + +<p>He was set down, and vanished into the cabin; the +Skipper, as if this were the most ordinary occurrence in +the world, led the way to the after-rail, and seated himself, +motioning to John to take a place beside him.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with him?" asked the boy, looking +after Franci.</p> + +<p>"I think him slightly a fool," was the reply, as the +Skipper puffed leisurely at his cigar. "His parents, +worthy people, desired him to be a sailor, but that he can +never be. The best sailor is one born for that, and for +no other thing; also, a sailor can be made, though not of +so fine quality; but of Franci, no. I return him after +this voyage, with compliments, and he sails no more in +the 'Nautilus.' And you, Colorado? How is it with +you? You love not at all a vessel, I think?"</p> + +<p>There certainly could be no doubt this time that the +Skipper was making fun; his face was alive with it, and +John could have laughed outright for pleasure.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you are a Malay, one bit!" said the +child. "I'm not sure that you are a pirate at all, but I +know you aren't a Malay."</p> + +<p>"Why that, my son?" asked the Skipper, waving the +smoke aside, that he might see the child's face the clearer. +"Why do you think that? I am not dark enough for a +Malay, is it that?"</p> + +<p>"No, not that," John admitted. "But—well, you +have no creese, and you are not wild, nor—nor fierce, nor +cruel."</p> + +<p>"But I have the creese!" the Skipper protested. "The +creese, would you see it? It is in the cabin, behind the +door, with other arms of piracy. Still, Colorado, it is of +a fact that I was not born in Polynesia, no. As to the +fierceness and the cruelty, we shall see, my son, we shall +see. If I kept you here on the 'Nautilus' always, took you +with me away, suffered you no more to live with your gentle +Sir Scraper, that would be cruelty, do you think it? That +would be a fierce pirate, and a cruel one, who would do +that?"</p> + +<p>John raised his head, and looked long and earnestly in +his friend's face. "Of course, I know you are only in +fun," he said, at last, "because dreams don't really come +true; but—but that <i>was</i> my dream, you know! I think +I've dreamed you all my life. At least—well, I never +knew just what you looked like, or how you would come; +but I always dreamed that some one would come from the +sea, and that I should hear about the shells, and know +what they were saying when they talk; and—" he +paused; but the Skipper patted his shoulder gently, in +sign that he understood.</p> + +<p>"And—what else, Juan Colorado?" he asked, in what +seemed the kindest voice in the world. But the boy John +hung his head, and seemed loth to go on.</p> + +<p>"There—there was another part to what I dreamed," +he said at last. "I guess I won't tell that, please, 'cause, +of course, you were only in fun."</p> + +<p>"And what the harm to tell it," said the Skipper, lightly, +"even if it come not true? Dreams are pretty things; my +faith, I love to dream mine self. Tell thy friend, Colorado! +tell the dream, all the wholeness of it."</p> + +<p>There was no resisting the deep, sweet voice. The little +boy raised his head again, and looked frankly into the +kind, dark eyes.</p> + +<p>"I used to dream that I was taken away!" he said, in a +low voice.</p> + +<p>"Away? Good!" the Skipper repeated.</p> + +<p>"Away," the boy murmured, and his voice grew soft and +dreamy. "Away from the land, and the fields where the +grass dries up so soon, and winter comes before you are +ready to be cold. Some one would come and take me in a +ship, and I should live always on the water, and it would +rock me like a cradle, and I should feel as if I had always +lived there. And I should see the flying-fish and dolphins, +and know how the corals grow, and see things under the +sea. And nobody would beat me then, and I should not +have to split wood when it makes my back ache. That +was the other part of my dream."</p> + +<p>The Skipper laid his hand lightly on the child's head +and smoothed back the red curls. "Who knows?" he +said, with a smile. "Who knows what may come of +dreams, Colorado? Here the one-half is come true, already +at this time. Why not the other?" He turned away as +if to change the subject, and took up a piece of the white +branching coral that lay at his elbow. "When I gather +this," he said in a lighter tone, "it was a day in the last +year; I remember well that day! A storm had been, and +still the sea was rough a little, but that was of no matter. +Along the island shore we were cruising, and I saw through +the water, there very clear, fine trees."</p> + +<p>"Trees?" repeated the wondering child.</p> + +<p>"Of coral, naturally!" said the Skipper. "Coral trees, +Juan, shining bright, bright, through the green water.</p> + +<p>"'Hola, you! lower anchor!'</p> + +<p>"It is done. I put on the diving dress. I take a +rope about my waist, I descend. There a forest I find; +very beautiful thing to see. Here we see green trees, +and in your north, in fall of year, bright colours, but +there colours of rainbow all the year round. In one +place bright yellow, branch and twig of gold purely; +the next, purple of a king's garment, colour of roses, +colour of peach-blossom in the spring. Past me, as I +descend, float fans of the fan-coral, lilac, spreading a +vine-work, trellis, as your word is. On the one side +are cliffs of mountains, with caves in their sides, and from +these caves I see come out many creatures; the band-fish, +a long ribbon of silver with rose shining through; the +Isabelle fish, it is violet and green and gold, like a queen. +Under my feet, see, Colorado! sand white like the snow +of your winter, fine, shining with many bright sparks. +And this is a garden; for all on every hand flowers are +growing. You have seen a cactus, that some lady keeps +very careful in her window, tending that it die not? +Yes! Here is the white ground covered with these flowers +completely, only of more size hugely, crimson, pale, +the heart of a rose, the heart of a young maiden. Sea-anemones +are these, Colorado, many, many kinds, all very +fine to see. And here, too, on the ground are my shells, +not as here, when of their brightness the half is gone for +want of the life and the water, but full of gleams very +glorious, telling of greatness in their making. Here above +the water, my little child, I find persons many who doubt +of a great God who maketh all things for good, and to grow +in the end better; but to have been under the sea, that is +to know that it cannot be otherwise; a true sailor learns +many things that are not fully known upon the land, +where one sees not so largely His mercy."</p> + +<p>He was silent for a moment, and then went on, the child +sitting rapt, gazing at him with eyes which saw all the +wonders of which he told.</p> + +<p>"All these things I saw through the clear water, as if +through purest glass I looked. I broke the branches, +which now you see white and cleaned, but then all +splendid with these colours whereof I tell you. Many +branches I broke, putting them in pouches about my waist +and shoulders. At once, I see a waving in the water, +over my head; I look up to see a shark swim slowly round +and round, just having seen me, and making his preparations. +I have my knife ready, for often have I met this +gentleman before. I slip behind the coral tree, and wait; +but he is a stupid beast, the shark, and knows not what to +do when I come not out. So up I quickly climb through +the branches, with care not to tangle the rope; he still +looking for me at the spot where first he saw me. I gain +the top, and with a few pulls of my good Rento on the +rope, I am in the boat, and Sir Shark is snapping his +teeth alone, very hungry, but not invited to dinner."</p> + +<p>"Do you think he was stronger than you?" asked the +little boy. "You're very strong, aren't you? I should +think you were as strong as sharks, and 'most as strong as +whales."</p> + +<p>The Skipper laughed. "Sir Shark is ten times so strong +as any man, let him be of the best, my friend; but he has +not the strength of head, you understand; that makes the +difference. And you, could you do that, too? Could you +keep yourself from fear, when the sea-creatures come about +you, if you should ever be a sailor? What think you?"</p> + +<p>The child pondered.</p> + +<p>"I think I could!" he said at last.</p> + +<p>"I never saw any such things, of course, but I'm +not afraid of anything that I know about, here on shore. +There was a snake," he went on, lowering his voice, "last +summer there was a snake that lived in a hole by the +school-house, and he was a poison snake, an adder. One +day he crept out of his hole and came into the school-house, +and scared them all 'most to death. The teacher +fainted away, and all the children got up into a corner +on the table, and the snake had the whole floor to +himself. But it looked funny to see them all that way +over a little beast that wasn't more than two foot +long; so I thought about it, and then I went to the +wood-box (we were burning brushwood then) and got a +stick with a little fork at the end, and I came up quick +behind the snake, and clapped that down over his neck, so +he couldn't turn his head round, and then I took another +stick and killed him. That's only a little thing, but I +wasn't afraid at all, and I thought perhaps it would show +whether I would be good for anything when there were +real things to be afraid of."</p> + +<p>The Skipper nodded in his pleasant, understanding way. +"I think so, too, Colorado," he said. "I think so, too! +That was like my boy Rento, but not like Franci. Franci +dies every time he see a snake, and come to life only to +find out if somebody else is killed. See, my son, how +beautiful the moon on the water! Let us look for a few +moments, to take the beauty into us, and then I must +send my little friend to his bed, that nothing harmful +comes to him."</p> + +<p>So they sat hand in hand for awhile, gazing their fill, +saying nothing; there was the same look in the two faces, +so widely different. The little boy, with his clear brow, +his blue eyes limpid as a mountain pool, shining with the +heavens reflected in them; the dark Spaniard (if he were +a Spaniard!) with lines of sadness, shadows of thought +and of bitter experience, making his bronze face still +darker; what was there alike in these two, who had come +together from the ends of the earth? The thought was +one, in both hearts, and the look of it shone in the eyes of +both as they sat in the moonlight white and clear. What +was the thought? Look into the face of your child as it +kneels to pray at close of day! Look into the face of any +good and true man when he is lifted above the things of +to-day, and sees the beauty and the mystery, and hears the +eternal voices sounding!</p> + +<table class="center"><tr><td align="left"> +"'Morning, evening, noon and night,<br /> +Praise God!' sang Theocrite."<br /> +</td></tr></table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">IN THE NIGHT.<br /></p> + +<p><br />The evening had been peaceful, all beauty and silence; +but not so the night for the boy John. Something +was the matter; he could not sleep. The bunk in the little +cabin was comfortable enough for anyone, but to him it +was a couch for an emperor. He speculated on the +probability of George the Third's having had anything +like so luxurious a bed, and rejected the thought as +absurd. There were no lumps in the mattress, neither +any holes through which sharp fingers of straw came +out and scratched him. The red curtains at the sides +could be drawn at will, and, drawing them, he found +himself in a little world of his own, warm and still +and red. The shells were outside in the other world; +he could look out at any moment and see them, and +touch them, take them up; his friend had said so. Now, +however, it seemed best just to be alive, and to stay still +and wonder what would become of him. He heard the +Skipper come down and go to bed, and soon the sound +of deep, regular breathing told that he slept, the man +of wonder; but John could not sleep. And now other +thoughts came thronging into his mind, thoughts that were +not soft and crimson and luxurious. To go away, as the +Skipper had said,—to go to heaven! But one did not go to +heaven till the time came. Was it right? Was the +Skipper a good man?</p> + +<p>The child debated the question with anguish, lying with +wide open eyes in his crimson-shaded nest. Mr. Scraper +was—not—very nice, perhaps; but he had taken him, +John, when his mother died, and fed and clothed him. +He had often had enough to eat—almost enough—and—and +Mr. Scraper was old, and perhaps pretty soon his legs +would go to sleep, like old Captain Baker's, and he would +not be able to walk at all, and then how would it be if he +were left alone? Perhaps people would not come to help +him, as they had helped the captain, because everybody in +the village loved the captain, and no one exactly loved Mr. +Scraper. So if the only person who belonged to him at all +should go off and leave him, how could it be expected that +the folks who had their own grandfathers and things to +take care of would stop and go to take care of this old man? +And if he should die there, all alone, with no one to read +to him or bring him things, or feed him with a spoon, why,—how +would it seem to himself, the boy John's self, when +he should hear of it?</p> + +<p>"I am a murderer!" he said aloud; and straightway, at +the sound of his own voice, cowered under the bedclothes, +and felt the hangman's hand at his neck.</p> + +<p>What did it mean, when a person could not sleep?</p> + +<p>There was a man in an old book there at the house, and +he was wicked, and he never could sleep, never at all. The +things he had done came and sat on him, and they were +hot, like coals, and the heat went through to his heart and +burned it. Would it be so with him, if he should go away +in the "Nautilus," and forget—or try to forget—the old +man who had nobody to love him? Not that Mr. Scraper +wanted to be loved yet, at all; but—but he might, some +time, when his legs had gone to sleep, and then—</p> + +<p>Sometimes, when a person could not sleep, it meant that +he was going to die. Suppose one were to die now, and go +to heaven, and they said to one, "How was Mr. Scraper +when you came away?" and one had to say, "I ran away +and left him this evening, and I don't know how he is, or +whether he is alive or dead—for sometimes old people die +just like that, dropping down in their chairs—what would +they say to one? Perhaps the old man had dropped down +now, this very night, from anger at his being away when +he should have done the chores". He saw Mr. Scraper +sitting in his arm-chair, cold and dead, with the rats running +over the floor at his feet, because he, John, had +not set the trap. A scream rose to his lips, but he choked +it back; and sitting up in desperation, drew aside the red +curtains and looked out.</p> + +<p>The cabin lay dim and quiet before him. A lantern +hung in the middle, turned low, and by its light he could +see the shelves, with their shining rows of shells, and the +glass counter with the sea-jewelry. Directly opposite him, +only the narrow space of the cabin between, lay the +Skipper in his bunk, sleeping peacefully. The wild fear +died away in the child's heart as he saw the calmness and +repose of the stalwart figure. One arm was thrown out; +the strong, shapely hand lay with the palm open toward +him, and there was infinite cheer and hospitality in the +attitude. In the dim light the Skipper's features looked +less firm and more kind; yet they were always kind. It +was not possible that this was a bad man, a stealer of children, +a pilferer of old men's cupboards.</p> + +<p>If one could think that he had been playing all the +time, making believe, just as a person did one's self; but +John had never known any grown people who could make +believe; they had either forgotten, or else they were +ashamed of the knowledge. Once, it was true, he had +persuaded Mr. Bill Hen Pike to be Plymouth Rock, when +he wanted to land in the "Mayflower;" but just as the +landing was about to be effected, Mrs. Pike had called +wrathfully from the house, and the rock sprang up and +shambled off without even a word of apology or excuse. +So grown people did not understand these things, probably; +and yet,—yet if it had been play, what glorious times +one could have, with a real creese, and a real schooner, +and everything delightful in the world!</p> + +<p>How could he be bad and look like that? The child +bent forward and strained his eyes on the sleeping face. +So quiet, so strong, so gentle! He tried putting other +faces beside it, for he saw faces well, this boy, and remembered +what he had seen. He tried Mr. Scraper's face, with +the ugly blink to the red eyes, and the two wrinkles +between the eyes, and the little nest of spiteful ones that +came about his mouth when he was going to be angry; +even when he slept—the old gentleman—his hands were +clenched tight—how different from that open palm, with +its silent welcome!—and his lips pursed up tight. No! +no! that was not a pleasant picture! Well, there was +Lena! she was pleasant to look at, surely! Her hair was +like silver, and her eyes blue and soft, though they could +be sharp, too. But, somehow, when her face was brought +here beside the Skipper's, it looked foolish and empty, and +her pretty smile had nothing to say except to bid one look +and see how pretty she was, and how becoming blue was to +her; and—and, altogether, she would not do at all.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen, then, who was always kind to him, and +quite often, when. Mrs. Pike was not near, would give him +a checkerberry lozenge. Mr. Bill Hen's face was good-natured, +to be sure, but oh, how coarse and red and stupid +it was beside the fine dark sleeping mask! Why did +people look so different, and more when they were asleep +than any other time? Did one's soul come out and kind +of play about, and light up the person's face; and if so, +was it not evident that the Skipper <i>was</i> a good man? and +that perhaps things were really different in his country, +and they had other kinds of Ten Commandments, and—no, +but right was right, and it didn't make any difference +about countries in that sort of thing. You knew that +yourself, because you felt it in your stomach when you did +bad things; perhaps when one grew older, one's stomach +did not feel so quickly. And, anyhow, if that was true +about the soul, how do you suppose a person's own soul +would make his face look if he was running away from +the things he ought to do, and going to play with monkeys +and see the wonders of the world? The boy wondered +what he was looking like at the present moment, and summoned +up the image of a frightful picture of a devil in +another of those old books into which he was forever peeping +at odd times. Did they miss him now, the old books +in the garret, because he had not come up to wish them +good-night and take a look at some of the best pictures +before he went to bed? Was he likely to turn into a devil +when he died, do you suppose?</p> + +<p>How still it was, and how queer his eyes felt! But he +could not lie down, for then he would be alone again, and +the things would come and sit on him; it was good to sit +up and look at the Skipper, and wonder—and wonder—</p> + +<p>A gleam, faint and red, shot from a shell in the farther +corner,—a splendid creature, scarlet and pale green, with +horns that gave it a singularly knowing look. He almost +thought it nodded to him; and hark! was that a tiny +voice speaking, calling him by name?</p> + +<p>"Come away, little boy!" said the voice. "Come +away to the south, where the water is blue always, and +storms come rarely, rarely! There, under the water, my +brothers and sisters wait to see you, and with them their +friends, the lovely ones, of whom you have dreamed all +your life. There, on beds of sea-moss, they lie, and the +rainbow is dull beside them. Flowers are there, and stars, +and bells that wave softly without sound. For one fair +thing that the man, our master, told you of, we have a +thousand to show you. What does he know, a man, whose +eyes are already half-shut? But you are a child, and for +you all things shall be opened under the ocean, and you +shall see the treasures of it, and the wonders; and you +shall grow wise, wise, so that men shall look up to you, +and shall say, 'Where did he gain his knowledge?' And +your friend shall be with you, oh yes, for he knows the +way, if he cannot see all the things that will meet your +eyes! And you and he together shall sail—shall sail, +through waters green as chrysoprase; and all the sea-creatures +shall learn to know you and love you. You +shall learn where the sea-otter makes his nest, in the +leaves of the giant sea-weed, where they stretch along +the water, full sixty feet long, as the Skipper told you. +The 'Nautilus' will be there, too: not a clumsy wooden +mountain, like this in which we lie prisoned, but the creature +itself, the fairy thing of pearl and silver! Look! here +lies his shell, and you find it lovely; but like us, it is dim +and dead for want of the life within it.</p> + +<p>"Come away, and let us be sailing, sailing over seas of +gold! And when you are weary of the top of the waves, +down you shall sink with us through the clear green water, +and the night will fall like a soft dream, and the moon-fish, +with its disk of silver, shall gleam beside you to light +the dimness that yet is never dark; and you shall go +down, down, down—"</p> + +<p>And about this time it must have been that the little +boy went down, for when the morning broke, the Skipper +found him, fast asleep, and smiling as he slept.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">FAMILY MATTERS.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />"Well," said Mr. Bill Hen, "I only want to put it +to you, you understand. Intelligent man like +you, no need for me to do more than put it to you. +There's the child, and there's the old man, and they +'pear to have got separated. I don't want to be understood +as implying anything, not anything in the living +world; but there's where it is, you see. And me being +a justice of the peace, and sworn, you observe, to—well, +I'm sure you will see for yourself the position I'm placed +in. Point is, you seemed consid'able interested in the +child, as one may say. Nothing strange in that,—nice little +boy! would interest an Injin chief, if he had any human +feelin' in him. But <i>bein'</i> a justice of the peace, you see,—well, +Mr. Scraper has sent me to make inquiries, and no +offence in the world, I trust—no <i>insult</i>, you understand, if +I jest—well, all about it—do you know where in thunder +the child is?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen, standing on the bank, delivered himself of +these remarks with infinite confusion, perspiring freely, +and wiping his face with a duster, which he had brought +by mistake instead of a handkerchief. He looked piteously +at the Skipper, who stood leaning over the side, cheerfully +inscrutable, clad in spotless white, and smoking a long +cigar.</p> + +<p>"The child?" the Skipper repeated, thoughtfully. "You +allude to the boy called John, Señor Pike; yes, I had that +suppose. Now, sir, the day before this, you tell me that +this child is not well placed by that old gentleman Scraper; +that the old man is cruel, is base, is a skin-the-flint, shortly. +You tell me this, and I make reply to you that there are +powers more high than this old person, who have of that +child charge. How, if those powers had delivered to me +the child? how then, I ask you, Señor Pike?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen wiped his brow again and gasped feebly. +"'Tis as I thought!" he said. "You've got the child +aboard."</p> + +<p>The Skipper nodded, and blew rings from his cigar. "I +have the child," he repeated, "aboard. What will you in +this case do, Señor? I propose to take him with me away, +to make of him a sailor, to care for him as my son. You +think well of this; you have been kind to the child always, +as he tell me? You are glad to have him remove from the +slavery of this old fish, yes?" He smiled, and bent his +dark eyes on his unhappy visitor.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen writhed upon the hook. "There—there's +truth in what you say," he admitted, at length, after seeking +counsel in vain from his red bandanna. "There's +truth in what you say, I aint denyin' that. But what I +look at, you see, is my duty. You may have your idees of +duty, and I may have mine; and I'm a justice of the peace, +and I don't see anything for it but to ask you to give up +that child to his lawful guardeen, as has sent me for +him."</p> + +<p>A pause ensued, during which Franci sauntered to the +side with easy grace. "Shall I put a knife into him, +Patron?" he asked, indicating Mr. Bill Hen with a careless +nod. "How well he would stick, eh? The fatness +of his person! It is but to say the word, Patron."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen recoiled with a look of horror, and prepared +for instant flight; but the Skipper's gesture reassured +him. "Franci, look if there is a whale on the larboard +bow!" said the latter.</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, Patron!" replied Franci, withdrawing with +his most courtly bow. "When I say that no one will be +killed at all in this cursed place, and I shall break my +heart! but as you will."</p> + +<p>Again there was a pause, while Mr. Bill Hen wondered +if this were a floating lunatic asylum or a nest of pirates, +that had come so easily up their quiet river and turned the +world topsy-turvy. At length—"Your force, Señor +Pike," the Skipper said, "I perceive it not, for to take +away this child. Have you the milizia—what you call +soldiers, police—have you them summoned and concealed +behind the rocks, as in the theatres of Havana? I see no +one but your one self. Surely you have no thought to take +the child of your own force from me?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen gasped again. "Look here!" he broke out +at last. "What kind of man are you, anyway? you aint no +kind that we're used to in these parts, so now I tell you! +When a man hears what is law in this part of the world, he +gives in, as is right and proper, to that law and that—and—and +in short to them sentiments. Are you going to +stand out against the law, and keep that child? and who +give you a right to do for that child? I suppose I can ask +that question, if you are a grandee, or whatever you are. +Who give you a right, I ask?"</p> + +<p>"Who shall say?" replied the Skipper. "Perhaps—" +He said no more, but raised his hand with a gesture that +was solemn enough; and Mr. Bill Hen Pike decided that +he was beyond doubt a madman. But now the Skipper +dropped his tone and attitude of smiling ease, and, throwing +away his cigar, stood upright. "Enough, Señor!" he +said. "You are a good man, but you have not the courage. +Now, you shall see Colorado." He turned toward +the cabin and called: "Colorado, my son, come to me!" +Then, after a pause, "He sleeps yet. Rento, bring to me +the child!" Rento, who had been hovering near, lending +a careful ear to all that was said, now vanished, and reappeared, +bearing the boy John in his arms. The child +was but newly awake, and was still rubbing his eyes and +looking about him in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Colorado, the Señor Pike, already well known to you!" +said the Skipper, with a graceful wave of the hand. "Your +guardian, the old gentleman Scraper, desires of our company +at breakfast. How then, son of mine? Shall we go, +or shall I keep you here, and bid Sir Scraper find his way +to the devil, which will be for him little difficult?" He +smiled on the boy, and took his hand with a caressing +gesture.</p> + +<p>Little John heaved a great sigh, and the cares of the +world floated from him like a summer cloud. "Oh, I +knew it!" he cried, smiling joyously up into his friend's +face. "I knew it all the time, or almost all! You never +meant anything but fun, did you? and we will go back, +won't we? And we shall feel all right inside, and things +will not sit—I—I mean nothing will feel bad any more. +I—I can't say all I mean," he added, rather lamely, +"because I had thoughts in the night; but we will go +now, you and I, you and I!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As they approached the gate, John stopped a moment, +and looked up at his companion. "Would you mind holding +my hand?" he asked. "I am all right in my mind, but I +think I am rather queer in my legs; I think I should feel +better if I held the hand of—of somebody who wasn't +little, or—or weak."</p> + +<p>Oh, the strong, cordial pressure of the big, brown hand! +how it sent warmth and cheer and courage through the +little quivering frame! John was all right in his mind, +as he said, but his body felt already the stinging blows of +the cane, his ears rang already with the burning words of +rage and spite.</p> + +<p>"But it is the inside that matters!" said John, aloud; +and he shut his eyes and went into the house.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, gentleman," the Skipper began, always +at his courteous ease.</p> + +<p>"I have to ask your forgiveness, that I carry off yesterday +our young friend here. You were not at house, I +desired greatly of his company; I have the ways of the sea, +waiting not too long for the things I like; briefly, I take +him away. That I bear the blame of this is my desire. +And now, shall we pleasantly converse, ha?"</p> + +<p>He seated himself, drew the boy between his knees, +and looked Mr. Scraper squarely in the eyes. Now, Mr. +Scraper did not like to be looked at in this manner; he +shifted on his chair, and his mouth, which had been opened +to pour out a flood of angry speech, closed with a spiteful +snap, and then opened, and then closed again.</p> + +<p>The Skipper observed these fish-like snappings with +grave attention. At length,—</p> + +<p>"Who are you, I should like to know?" the old man +cried in an angry twitter.</p> + +<p>"Why in—why do you come meddling here, and carrying +off boys from their lawful guardeens, and talking +folderol, and raising Ned generally? I've seen skippers +before, but I never heered of no such actions as these, +never in my days! Why, no one here so much as knows +your name; and here you seem to own the hull village, all +of a sudden. You, John," he added, with a savage snarl, +"you go about your business, and I'll see to you afterwards. +I reckon you won't go out again without leave for +one while!"</p> + +<p>The child started obediently, but the strong hand held +him fast.</p> + +<p>"Quiet, Colorado," said the Skipper. "Quiet, my son! +Time enough for the work, plenty time! I desire you here +now, see you." Then he turned once more to the old man.</p> + +<p>"You have, I already say, a beautiful name, Sir Scraper," +he said with cheerful interest. "Endymion! a fine name, +truly—of poetry, of moonlight and beauty; you have had +great joy of that name, I cannot doubt?"</p> + +<p>"What's my name to you, I should like to know?" +retorted Mr. Scraper, with acrimony. "This aint the first +time you've took up my name, and I'll thank you to leave +it alone! You let go that boy, or I'll let you know +more 'n you knew before."</p> + +<p>"Perfectly!" said the Skipper. "Attend but a moment, +dear sir. Let us pursue for a moment thoughts of poetry! +Such a name as Endymion proves a poetic fancy in the +giver of it; at a guess, this was your lady mother, now +probably with the saints, and if others so fortunate as to +belong to your family, surely this excellent lady would +have given to them, also, names of soul, of poetry! If +there was a sister, for example, would she be named +Susan? No! Jane? Never! Find me then a name! +Come! at a venture. Zenobia? Aha! what say you?"</p> + +<p>He leaned forward, and his glance was like the flash of a +sword. The child looked in wonder from one to the other; +for the old man had sunk back in his chair, and his jaw +had fallen open in an ugly way, and altogether he was a +sad object to look at.</p> + +<p>"What—what d'ye mean?" he gasped, after a moment. +But the Skipper went on, speaking lightly and +cheerfully, as if talking of the weather.</p> + +<p>"What pleasure to bring before the mind a picture of +a family so charming! Of you, dear sir, in your gracious +childhood, how endearing the image! how tenderly +guarded, how fondly cherished here by your side the little +sister? Ah! the smiling picture, making glad the heart! +This sister, Zenobia, let us say, grows up, after what +happy childhood with such a brother needs for me not to +say. They are three, these children,—how must they love +each other! But one brother goes early away from the +home! In time comes for Zenobia, as to young maidens +will come, a suitor, a foreigner, shall we say? a man, like +myself, of the sea? May it not have been possible, dear +sir?"</p> + +<p>"A roving nobody!" the old man muttered, striving to +pull himself together. "A rascally"—but here he +stopped abruptly, for a stern hand was laid on his arm.</p> + +<p>"I am speaking at this present, sir!" said the Skipper. +"Of this man I do not ask you the character. I tell my +story, if you please, in my own way.</p> + +<p>"The mother, by this time, is dead. The father, unwilling +to part with his daughter,—alas! the parental heart, +how must it be torn? As yours, the tender one, last night, +on missing this beloved child, Sir Scraper. The father, +I say, opposes the marriage; at length only, and after +many tears, much sorrow, some anger, consents; the +daughter, sister, Zenobia, goes with her husband away, +promising quickly to return, to take her old father to her +home in the southern islands. Ah, the interesting tale, +is it not? Observe, Colorado, my son, how I am able to +move this, your dear guardian. The pleasant thing, to +move the mind of age, so often indifferent.</p> + +<p>"Zenobia goes away, and the son, the good son, the one +faithful and devoted, who will not marry, so great his +love for his parent, is left with that parent alone. How +happy can we fancy that parent, is it not? How gay for +him the days, how sweet for him the nights, lighted with +love, and smoothed his pillow by loving hands,—ah, the +pleasant picture! But how, my friend, you feel yourself +not well? Colorado, a glass of water for your guardian."</p> + +<p>The old man motioned the child back, his little eyes +gleaming with rage and fear.</p> + +<p>"You—you come a-nigh me, you brat, and I'll wring +your neck!" he gasped. "Well, Mister, have you finished +your—your story, as you call it? Why do I want to +listen to your pack of lies, I should like to know? I wonder +I've had patience to let you go on so long."</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to listen?" the Skipper repeated. +"My faith, do I know? But the appearance of interest +in your face so venerable, it touch me to the heart. Shall +I go and tell the rest of my story to him there, that other, +the justice of the peace? But no, it would break your +heart to hear not the end. That we proceed then, though +not so cheerful the ending of my story. Zenobia, in her +southern home, happy, with her child at her knee, feels +still in her heart the desire to see once more her father, to +bring him to her, here in the warm south to end his days +of age. She writes, but no answer comes; again she +writes, and again, grief in her soul, to think that anger is +between her and one so dear. At last, after a long time, +a letter from her brother, the stay-at-home, the faithful +one; their father is dead; is dead,—without speaking of +her; the property is to him left, the faithful son. It is +finished, it is concluded, the earth is shut down over the +old man, and no more is to say.</p> + +<p>"With what tender, what loving words this cruel news +tells itself, needs not to repeat to a person so of feeling as +yourself, Sir Scraper. Zenobia, sad woman, believes what +she is told; bows her head, gathers to her closer her husband +and her son, and waits the good time when God +shall make to her good old father the clear knowledge +that she has always loved him. Ah, yes, my faith!</p> + +<p>"Now, in a year, two years, I know not, what arrives? +A letter, old and worn; a letter soiled, discoloured, of +carrying long in a sailor's pocket, but still easily to be +read. This letter—shall we guess, Sir Scraper? Well, +then, from her father! The old man in secret, in fear, +lying on his bed of death, makes come by stealth a neighbour, +kindly disposed to him; makes write by his hand +this letter; makes draw up besides, it may be, other +papers, what do we know?</p> + +<p>"Ah! but remain quiet, dear sir. Grieved that I do +not interest you, I must still pray of your presence, that +you do not yet withdraw it. Ancient fish-skin, do I tie +thee in thy chair?</p> + +<p>"So! that is well, and you will remain quiet, Señor, +with a thousand pardons!</p> + +<p>"This letter, then, it is one to wring the heart. He has +longed for his daughter, this poor old man; in two grasping +hands held as in a vise, he turns to her who was +always kind, he prays her to return, to let him come to +her, what she will. Failing this, and knowing that on +earth the time is short for him to remain, he bids her not +grieve, but send to her home a messenger of trust, and +let him look for a certain paper, in a certain place. +Finally, he prays for her the blessing of God, this good old +man, and bids her farewell, if he may never see her more. +Truly, a letter over which a pirate, even a Malay pirate, +Colorado of my heart, might shed tears."</p> + +<p>The Skipper's voice was still quiet, but its deep tones +were stern with suppressed feeling; with menace, was it? +The child, bewildered, looked from one to the other of his +two companions. The Spaniard's eyes burned red in their +depths, his glance seemed to pierce marrow and sinew; he +sat leaning lightly forward in his chair, alert, possessing +himself, ready for any sudden movement on the part of his +adversary; for the old man must be his adversary; something +deadly must lie between these two. Mr. Scraper lay +back in his chair like one half dead, yet the rage and spite +and hatred, the baffled wonder, the incredulity struggling +with what was being forced upon him, made lively play in +his sunken face. His lean hands clutched the arms of the +chair as if they would rend the wood; his frame shook +with a palsy. Little John wondered what could ail his +guardian; yet his own heart was stirred to its depths by +what he had heard.</p> + +<p>"The son was bad!" he cried. "He was a bad man! +Things must have sat upon his breast <i>all</i> night, and I am +sure he could not sleep at all. Are you sorry for a person +who is as bad as that? do you think any one tried to +help him to be better?"</p> + +<p>But the Skipper raised his finger, and pointed to the evil +face of the old man.</p> + +<p>"Does that man look as if he slept, my son?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Listen always, and you shall hear the last of the +story."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!" Mr. Scraper screamed at last, recovering +the power of speech.</p> + +<p>"It's a lie that you've cooked up from what you have +heard from the neighbours. May their tongues rot out! +And if it were true as the sun, what is it to you? She's +dead, I tell you! She's been dead these twenty years! +I had the papers telling of her death; I've got 'em now, +you fool."</p> + +<p>"Quiet then, my uncle!" said the Skipper, bending forward, +and laying his hand on the old man's knee.</p> + +<p>"She is dead, she died in these arms. I am her son, +do you see?"</p> + +<p>But if Mr. Scraper saw, it was only for a moment, for he +gave a scream, and fell together sideways in his chair, +struck with a fit.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">IN THE VALLEY OF DECISION.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />"And now, Colorado, son of my heart," the Skipper +said, "you understand why I was a thief that yesterday, +and why I could not permit you at that instant to +tell of my thieving?"</p> + +<p>They had put the old man to bed, and Mr. Bill Hen had +gone for the doctor. In fact, when John ran out of the +door, he had found Mr. Bill Hen leaning up against it, +as speechless, with amazement and confusion, as Mr. +Scraper himself! The good man, wholly unable to restrain +his curiosity, had followed the Skipper and the boy, unbeknown +to them, and posting himself in a convenient angle +of the porch, had heard every word of the conversation. +The Skipper, perceiving the facts, managed to rouse him +with a few sharp words, and sent him off in hot haste to +the village; and had then proceeded to make the old gentleman +comfortable, and to set things shipshape, so far as +might be.</p> + +<p>"Do you think he will die?" asked John, peeping over +the bed at the sunken features of the old man.</p> + +<p>"I do not!" was the reply.</p> + +<p>"I think this my revered uncle has yet many years to +live—and repent, if so he be minded. He is a very bad +old man, Colorado, this my revered uncle! Ah, thou +ancient fish, thou art finally landed!"</p> + +<p>"Are you sorry for a person when he is so bad as that?" +asked the boy, as he had asked once before.</p> + +<p>"Do you think a person could make him better, if he +tried very hard indeed?"</p> + +<p>"I have no knowledge!" said the Skipper, rather shortly. +"I am a human person altogether, my son! and I concern +myself not greatly with the improvement of this my revered +uncle. Behold it, the will, made by my grandfather, +the father of my poor mother, whose soul, with his, rest in +eternal glory! By this, my mother, and I after her, inherit +this house, this garden, these possessions such as they are. +If I desire, son of mine, I may come here to-day to live, +sell the 'Nautilus,' or cut her cable and let her drift down +the river, with Rento and Franci, and all the shells; and I +may live here in my house, to—what do you say? cultivate +my lands, eat grass and give it to the cattle? What +think you, Colorado? Is that a life? Shall I lead it, as is +my right? Have I not had enough, think you, of roving +over the sea, with no place where I may rest, save the +heaving ocean, that rests never beneath the foot? Shall we +turn out this old wicked man, who did to death his old +father, who made my mother go sad of heart to her grave, +who has done of all his life no kind act to any person—shall +we turn him out, and live in peace here, you and I?"</p> + +<p>The child came near to him, and laid his hand on his +friend's knee, and looked up in his face with troubled eyes.</p> + +<p>"I am not very bright," he said, "and you think so +many things so quickly that I do not know what you mean +a good deal of the time. But—but Cousin Scraper took +me when my people died, and he has taken care of me ever +since, and—and he has no one else to take care of him +now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, the fine care he has taken of you!" said the Skipper. +"You are of skin and bone, my child, and there are +marks on your skin of blows, I saw them yesterday: cruel +blows, given from a bad heart. You have worked for him, +this ancient fish-skin, how long? Of wages, how much has +he paid you? Tell me these things, and I will tell you how +much it is your duty to stay by him."</p> + +<p>But John shook his head, and the shadows deepened in +his blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"You cannot tell a person those things," he said; "a +person has to tell himself those things. But thank you +all the same," he added, fervently; "and I love you +always more and more, every day and every minute, and +I always shall."</p> + +<p>"Now the question is," said the Skipper, shrugging his +shoulders in mock despair, "must I turn pirate in truth, to +gain possession of a child whom I could hold in my pocket, +and who would give all his coloured hair from his head to +go with me? Go away, son of mine, that I reflect on these +things, for you try my soul!"</p> + +<p>John withdrew, very sad, and wondering how it was that +right and wrong could ever get mixed. He thought of looking +in some of the old books to see, but, somehow, books did +not appeal to him just now. He went up to his own little +room, and took down the china poodle, and had a long talk +with him; that was very consoling, and he felt better after +it; it was wonderful how it cleared the mind to talk a +thing over with an old friend. The poodle said little, but +his eyes were full of sympathy, and that was the main +thing. By-and-by, as the child sat by his little window, +polishing the pearl-shell on his sleeve, and thinking over +the strange events of the last few days, there came to him +from below the sound of voices. The doctor was there, +evidently; perhaps Mr. Bill Hen, too; and little as he felt +inclined to merriment, John fell into a helpless laughter, as +he recalled the look of that worthy man when he was discovered +flattened against the door. How much older one +grew sometimes in a short time! Mr. Bill Hen used to look +so old, so wise, and now he seemed no more than another +boy, and perhaps rather a foolish boy. But seeing the +Skipper made a great difference in a person's life.</p> + +<p>Presently the door at the foot of the stairs opened, and +John heard his name called; he hastened down, and found +Mr. Scraper sitting up in bed, looking pale and savage, but +in full possession of his faculties. The doctor was there, +a burly, kind-eyed man, and Mr. Bill Hen was there, and +the Skipper; and when little John entered, they all looked +at him, and no one said anything for a moment.</p> + +<p>At length the doctor broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"I understand, sir," he said, addressing the Skipper, +"that you have a paper, a will or the like, substantiating +your claims?"</p> + +<p>"I have!" the Skipper replied. "The letter received by +my mother, shortly before her death, was dictated by my +grandfather, and told that, hearing for many years nothing +from his son, this child's grandfather, he had made a will +in her favour. This, being timorous, he had not dared to +show to anyone, neither to send her a copy, but he bade +her send a messenger to make search in a certain cupboard +of this house, on a certain shelf, where would be found +this paper. My mother dying, commended to me this +search. I at that time was a youth on adventures bent, +with already plans for eastern voyages. Keeping always +the letter in my pouch, and in my heart the desire of my +mother, I came, nevertheless, not to this part of the world; +years come and go, Señor, swiftly with men of the sea, and +these shores seemed to me less of attraction than Borneo +and other places where were easily to be found my wares. +Briefly, I came not; till this year, a commission from a collector +of some extent brought the 'Nautilus' to New York. +And then, say I, how then if I go on, see this my inheritance, +discover if it may profit me somewhat? I come, I +discover my revered uncle, unknown to him. Is the discovery +such that I desire to fall on his respected bosom, +crying, 'My uncle, soul of my family, behold your son!' +I ask you, Señors both! But I find this, my revered uncle, +to be a collector of shells: thus he is in one way already +dear to my heart. Again, I find here at the moment of my +arrival a child, who is in effect of my own blood, who is to +me a son from the moment of our first speech. Is it so, +Colorado? Speak, my child!"</p> + +<p>John could not speak, but he nodded like a little +mandarin, and the red curls fell into his eyes and hid +the tears, so that no one but the Skipper saw them.</p> + +<p>"How then?" the Skipper resumed, after a moment's +pause. "My soul not calling me to reveal myself to +this so-dear relative, what do I? I come to this house, +without special plan, to spy out the land, do we say? +I find my uncle forth of the house; I find my child +travailing in the garden. Good! The time appears to +me accepted. I enter, I search, I find the cupboard, I +find the paper. Briefly, Señors both, behold me possessor +of this house, this garden, this domain royal."</p> + +<p>He handed a paper to the doctor, who read it carefully, +and nodded. Mr. Scraper made an attempt to clutch it +in passing, but grasped the air only.</p> + +<p>"What then, in finality, do I say?" the Skipper went +on. "Do I desire to stay in this place? Wishing not +to grieve the Señor Pike, whom greatly I esteem, I consider +it unfit for the human being. Of property, I have +little desire; I have for my wants enough, I have my +'Nautilus,' I have my boys, to what end should I retain +these cold spots of earth, never before seen by me? To +what purpose, I ask it of you, Señors? Therefore, in +finality, I say to my revered uncle this: Give to me +the child, give to me the boy, that I take away and +make a sailor, for which he was born; and I of my +part surrender house and garden, even any money bags +which may be, what know I, perhaps at this moment +in the bed of my revered uncle concealed?"</p> + +<p>The old man gave a convulsive shudder at this, and +shrieked faintly; all started, but the Skipper laughed.</p> + +<p>"You see, Señor Pike, and Señor Doctor, greatly respected! +Who shall know how great sums this ancient +fish has hidden under him? Let him keep them, these +sums. I take the child, and I go my way. Is it finished, +uncle of my heart? Is it finished, venerable iniquity? +Can you part with the child, beloved, even as your old +father was beloved, and like him caressed and tenderly +entreated? Answer, thou!"</p> + +<p>But before Mr. Scraper could speak, little John stepped +forward, very pale, but clear in his mind.</p> + +<p>"If you please," he said, "I should like to speak. +If you please, he (indicating the Skipper,) is so kind, +and—and—he knows what I—he knows things I have +thought about, but he does not know all. Cousin Scraper, +you may be sick now, perhaps a long time, and perhaps +you have gone upon your bed to die, like that king in the +Bible who had figs put on; only he got well.</p> + +<p>"And I want to stay and take care of you, and—and +I will do as well as I know how, and I think I can +work more than I used to, because I know more, these +last days, than I did, and—and—I think that is all. +But if you don't mind—if you would try to like me +a little, I think we should get on better; and if dried +figs would do, we might try those, you know."</p> + +<p>Here he turned to the doctor, with a face of such clear +brightness that the good man choked, and coughed, and +finally went and looked out of the window, wondering +whether he was laughing or crying.</p> + +<p>Then John came forward, and held out both hands to +the old man with an appealing gesture.</p> + +<p>"Will you try to like me a little?" he said; and for +the first time his voice quivered.</p> + +<p>"For now my only friend is going away, and I am +sending him, and I shall never see him again."</p> + +<p>Mr. Endymion Scraper was a man of few ideas; and +only one was in his mind at this moment. Gathering +himself up in the bed, he pushed the boy away from +him with all his feeble strength.</p> + +<p>"Go 'way!" he said. "Go 'way, I tell ye. If that +man there will take ye, he's welcome to ye, I guess. If +he's fool enough to take ye in exchange for property, +saying the property was his, which I aint fool enough to +do without a lawyer—he's welcome to ye. I say, he's +welcome. I don't want no brats round here. I took ye +out of charity, and I've had enough of ye. Go 'long, +I say, with that wuthless feller, if he is my sister's son. +I want to be rid of the hull lot and passel of ye!"</p> + +<p>His voice rose to a scream, and the veins on his +narrow forehead stood out like cords. The doctor +motioned to the Spaniard; and the latter, without another +word, took the child up in his arms as he had +done once before, swung him over his shoulder, and left +the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></h2> + +<p class="center">SAILING.<br /></p> + + +<p><br />"Rento!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Franci!"</p> + +<p>"Señor!"</p> + +<p>"Jack and Jim!"</p> + +<p>The monkeys for answer leaped on their master's +shoulder, and chattered, and peered round into his face.</p> + +<p>"The company of this schooner, attention! Behold +Colorado, who comes to be my son! He sails with us, he +receives kindness from you all, he is in his home. Instruction +you will give him in ways of the sea, and he becomes +in all things your brother. Am I understood?"</p> + +<p>The different members of the crew received this intelligence +each in his own way. Rento advanced, and shaking +John cordially by the hand, assured him with honest +warmth that he was proper glad to see him, and that he +hoped they should be good friends.</p> + +<p>Franci smiled like an angel, and the moment the Skipper's +back was turned, made frightful grimaces at the boy, +and threatened his life. But John was too happy to be +afraid of Franci. Going boldly up to him, he asked,—</p> + +<p>"Why don't you like me, and why do you want to kill +me? I never did you any harm, and I should like to be +friends, please."</p> + +<p>The Spaniard looked at him sidelong out of his soft, +sleepy eyes.</p> + +<p>"Have you understanding?" he asked presently. +"Have you intelligence to accept the idea of a person of +poetry, of soul?"</p> + +<p>"I think so!" said John, with some confidence. "I +could try, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Look, then!" exclaimed Franci, throwing his arms +abroad with a dramatic gesture.</p> + +<p>"I am not of nature murderous. A dove, a lamb at +sport in the meadow, such is the heart of Franci. But—behold +me desolated on this infernal schooner. Torn by +my parents from my home, from warm places of my delight, +from various maidens, all enamoured of my person, +I am sent to be a sailor. A life of horror, believe me who +say it to you! Wetness, cold and work; work, cold and +wetness! Behold the sea! may it be accursed, and dry up +at the earliest moment! I come here, on this so disastrous +voyage. Have I poetry, think you, on board this vessel? +Is the pig-faced armadillo yonder a companion for me, for +Franci? Is my beauty, the gentleness and grace of my +soul appreciated here? even the Patron, a person in some +ways of understanding, has for me only the treatment of +a child, of a servant. Crushed to the ground by these +afflictions, how do I revenge myself? How do I make +possible the passage of time in this wooden prison? I +make for myself the action, I make for myself the theatre. +Born for the grace of life, deprived of it, let me have the +horrors! In effect, I would not hurt the safety of a flea; +in appearance, I desire blood, blood, blood!"</p> + +<p>He shrieked the last words aloud, and leaped upon the +boy, his eyes glaring like a madman's; but John was on +his own ground now; his eyes shone with appreciation.</p> + +<p>"That's splendid!" he cried. "Blood! Oh, I wish I +could do it like that! I say, we can play all kind of +things, can't we? We'll be pirates—only good pirates,—and +we'll scour the seas, and save all the shipwrecked +people, won't we? And you shall be the captain (or you +might call it admiral, if you liked the sound better, I often +do), and I will be the mate, or the prisoners, or the drowning +folks, just as you like. I love to play things."</p> + +<p>"Come to my heart, angelic child!" cried Franci, flinging +out his arms once more. "At length I am understood, +I am appreciated, I have found a comrade! That I weep +on thy bosom, Colorado!"</p> + +<p>And, much to the disgust of Rento, he fell upon John's +neck, and shed, or appeared to shed, a few tears, with +great parade of silk handkerchief. He then advanced to +where the Skipper was smoking his cigar in the stern, and +informed him, with a low bow, that he and Colorado were +one soul, which the Skipper said he was delighted to hear, +adding that he recommended the one soul to set the two +bodies to work cleaning the brasses.</p> + +<p>Franci liked to clean the brasses, because he could see +his face in them, and make eyes at himself as he went +along; accordingly he turned three back-somersaults, a +sign of high good-humour with him, and returned to his +new friend.</p> + +<p>"Have you noticed, Colorado," he inquired, "the contour +of my leg? Did you observe it now, quivering in the air?"</p> + +<p>John nodded appreciation, and wondered how old Franci +was.</p> + +<p>"To possess beauty," said the latter, gravely, "is a +responsibility, my friend. It is a burden, my soul! +Franci has shed tears over it, the tears of a poet. You +have read of Apollo, at least you have heard of him, the +god of poetry, of music, of grace? yes? Behold him, +Colorado! He lives before you, in the form of Franci. +Come on, that we clean together the brasses!"</p> + +<p>As for the monkeys, they at once adopted John as their +companion and their lawful prey. They climbed over him, +they tried to get into his pockets, they nestled in his arms, +they challenged him to races among the yards. The Skipper +was their king, Franci was their model, the ideal +toward which they vainly aspired. Rento, good, homely +Rento, was the person who fed them, and with whom they +could take any liberties, with no danger of a beating; but +the new-comer, the boy John, was simply another monkey +like themselves. Dressed up, it was true, like men, but in +no other way resembling them more than another, more +than themselves. Let him come and play, then, and put on +no airs. These were the sentiments of Jack and Jim, +and John responded to them with hearty good-will.</p> + +<p>The Skipper sat smoking, and watched with a quiet +smile the gambols of the three young creatures, as they +sped here and there about the rigging, chattering, laughing, +shrieking with glee.</p> + +<p>"Laugh, my son!" he said to himself, between the +puffs of his cigar. "Laugh and play, my little son! Far +too little laughter has been in thy life so far; here thou +shalt be as gay as the sun is bright on the Bahamas. Of +what use to be a sailor, if not to rejoice, and to see with +joy the works of God and His glory? Laugh, Colorado, +the sound is music in my ears!"</p> + +<p>But by-and-by the play must cease. Orders were given, +and Rento and Franci set to work in good earnest. The +wind was fair, the tide was setting out. What should keep +them longer here? The sails were hoisted to the tune of +"Baltimore," and Rento's gruff bass and Franci's melting +tenor were mingled for once in friendly harmony.</p> + +<table class="center"><tr><td align="left"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I wish I was in Baltimore!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">lo!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">A-skating on the sanded floor.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A long time ago!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Forever and forever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">lo!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Forever and forever, boys,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">A long time ago!"</span><br /> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>Just as the cables were about to be cast off, a hail was +heard from the wharf, and Mr. Bill Hen Pike appeared, +purple and breathless.</p> + +<p>"Schooner ahoy!" he gasped; and then fell against a +post and mopped his brow.</p> + +<p>"Señor!" responded the Skipper, coming to the stern, +and greeting his guest with a wave of the hand, "you +come to bid us farewell? It is kindly done! Or you bring +us, perhaps, a message from our revered uncle? Speak +with haste, Señor, the tide waits not!"</p> + +<p>"I—I brought this!" said Mr. Bill Hen, holding up a +small object. "I went up into his room, to see if there +was anything he might like, and there warn't nothing but +just this. I thought you'd like to have it, Johnny, to take +along with you."</p> + +<p>The good man's voice faltered; John ran to the stern, +and held out his hands eagerly, tenderly, crying,—"Oh, +thank you, dear Mr. Pike! thank you so very, +very much!"</p> + +<p>For it was the china poodle that Mr. Bill Hen had +brought. When the treasure was safe in the child's +hands, Mr. Bill Hen breathed more freely.</p> + +<p>"Now you'll have something to remember us by, +Johnny!" he said. "We've lotted on ye a good deal, +here to the village; more maybe than you thought on. +I—I'll miss ye consid'able, off and on, ye see, off and +on. You'll think about us nows and thens, won't ye, +Bub?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, indeed!" cried little John, eagerly. "I shall +think of you a great, great deal, Mr. Bill Hen! You +have always been so good and kind to me, and I shall +miss you, too, and Lena, and lots of people. And—and +how is Cousin Scraper, please, Mr. Bill Hen? Does he +miss me, do you think?"</p> + +<p>"He's all right!" replied Mr. Bill Hen, gruffly. +"Doosn't seem none the worse for his tantrum. No, +if you ask me, I can't say as he seems to miss ye, not +anyways to hurt him, that is. He'll be out again to-morrow +all right, doctor says; and besides bein' rather +uglier than common all day, I don't see no difference +in him."</p> + +<p>John sighed, but not very heavily.</p> + +<p>"I suppose if I had been nicer he might have missed +me," he said; "but then, on the other hand, if he missed +me, he wouldn't be so comfortable at my going away; so, +you see!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bill Hen did not see, but he said it was of no +consequence. Then, coming to the edge of the wharf, +he shook hands all round, never noticing, in the preoccupation +of his mind, the knife that Franci flashed +and brandished in his eyes as a parting dramatic +effect. He held John's hand long, and seemed to +labour for words, but found none; and so they slipped +away and left him standing alone on the wharf, a forlorn +figure.</p> + +<p>Down the river! Sailing, sailing over the magical +waters, past the fairy shores, already darkening into +twilight shades of purple and gray. The white schooner +glided along, passing, as she had come, like a dream. +In the bow stood the Skipper, his eyes bent forward, +his hand clasping fast the hand of the child.</p> + +<p>"We go, Colorado!" he said. "We go, my son, to +new worlds, to a new life. May a blessing be upon them, +as my heart feels there will be. Behold, my friend, the +ways of God, very wonderful to men of the sea. I come +up this river, with what thoughts in my heart? Partly of +curiosity, that I see the place where my mother, long dead, +was born, came to her womanhood; partly of tenderness +for her memory, regard for her wish; partly, also, for anger +at the villain brother, my uncle, and desire for revenge, +for my rights. I come, and I find—a child! A brother +for my present life, a son for my age, a friend for my +heart! Living upon the sea, Colorado, a man has much +time for thought; the sea speaks to him, the sky, the wind +and wave. What is the word they say, each and every +one, in the ear of the sailor? 'Glory to God!' That is +it, my son. Let us give thanks, and begin with joy our +new life together!"</p> + +<p>Down the river! The banks fade into shadow, the +breeze sinks away, but still the tide flows free, and the +schooner slips along like a spirit. Now comes up the +white fog, the fog out of which she came gliding that first +morning; and it receives her as a bride, and folds her in +its arms, and she melts into the whiteness and is gone. +Was it all a dream? Or does there still come back to us, +faintly borne, sweetly ringing, the song of the sailors?</p> + +<p class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/music.gif" alt="music" title="music"/> +</p> + +<p><a href="music/midi3.midi">[Listen to this music.]</a></p> + +<p class="figcenter"><a href="images/Illus-120.gif"> +<img src="images/Illus-120.gif" width="296" height="400" +alt="the boat" title="the boat"/></a> +</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>The Hildegarde Series</h2> + +<p class="center">AND OTHER BOOKS BY LAURA E. RICHARDS.</p> + +<p>***Next to Miss Alcott's famous "Little Women" series they easily rank, +and no books that have appeared in recent times may be more safely put into +the hands of a bright, intelligent girl than these four "Queen Hildegarde" +books.</p> + +<p><br /><br />HILDEGARDE'S NEIGHBORS.</p> + +<p>By Laura E. Richards. A companion to "Queen Hildegarde," etc. +Illustrated from original designs. Square 16mo, cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<p>A new volume in the "Hildegarde" Series, some of the best and most +deservedly popular books for girls issued in recent years. This new volume +is fully equal to its predecessors in point of interest, and is sure to renew the +popularity of the entire series.</p> + +<p><br /><br />QUEEN HILDEGARDE.</p> + +<p>A story for girls, by Laura E. Richards, author of "Captain January," etc. +Illustrated from original designs by Garrett (292 pp). Square 16mo, +cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<p>"We would like to see the sensible, heroine-loving girl in her early teens who +would not like this book. Not to like it would simply argue a screw loose +somewhere." <i>Boston Post.</i></p> + +<p><br /><br />HILDEGARDE'S HOLIDAY.</p> + +<p>A companion to "Queen Hildegarde." By Laura E. Richards. Illustrated +with full-page plates by Copeland. Square 16mo, cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<p><br /><br />HILDEGARDE'S HOME.</p> + +<p>By Laura E. Richards, author of "Queen Hildegarde," "Captain +January," etc. Illustrated with original designs by Merrill. Square 16mo, +cloth. $1.25.</p> + +<p class="center"><br /><br /><i>ALSO</i></p> + +<p>FOUR FEET, TWO FEET, AND NO FEET;</p> + +<p>Or, Furry and Feathery Pets, and How they Live. Stories of Animals, +Fishes and Birds for the Little Folks. Edited by Laura E. Richards. +Illustrated with nearly 250 wood engravings, all original in design, and +engraved by George T. Andrew. Quarto. Illuminated board covers. +$1.75.</p> + +<p><br /><br />FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP.</p> + +<p>The story of their lives and other wonderful things related by The Man in +the Moon, done in the vernacular from the lunacular form, by Laura E. +Richards, daughter of Julia Ward Howe, author of "Four Feet, Two +Feet, and No Feet," "Joyous Story of Toto," etc. With a large number +of beautiful illustrations by Addie Ledyard, Kate Greenaway and others. +Quarto. Illuminated board covers. $1.25.</p> + +<p><br /><br />SIX GIRLS.</p> + +<p>A delightful book for girls. By Fannie Belle Irving, a gifted writer, and +niece of Washington Irving. Illustrated from designs by Merrill. 16mo, +cloth. Boston. $1.25.</p> + +<h2><br /><br />Illustrated Gift Books</h2> + +<p class="center">FOR ALL SEASONS.</p> + +<p>AMERICA'S GODFATHER;</p> + +<p>Or, the Florentine Gentleman. Being the story of Amerigo Vespucci. By +Virginia W. Johnson, author of "The Lily of the Arno," etc. Handsomely +printed from large type, on fine paper, and illustrated with twenty +full-page plates in half-tone. Small, 8vo, handsomely bound in cloth, +extra, original and very handsome cover design, gilt top, in a box. $2.50.</p> + +<p class="center"><br /><br /><i>WILLIAM WARE'S BOOKS.</i></p> + +<p>ZENOBIA;</p> + +<p>Queen of Palmyra. A tale of the Roman Empire in the days of the +Emperor Aurelian. By William Ware, author of "Aurelian," "Julian," +etc. <i>Holiday edition</i>. Handsomely printed from new and large type on +laid paper, and handsomely illustrated with twenty full-page plates in +half-tone from photographs taken in Palmyra. Small 8vo, tastefully +bound in parti-colored cloth, decorated in gold, with cameo portrait on +side, gilt top, in a box. $2.50</p> + +<p>A handsome holiday edition of a famous historical novel, still popular and +worthy of preservation in an attractive form. The illustrations add considerably +to its interest, depicting the ruins of a splendid civilization, that was at +its zenith nearly two thousand years ago.</p> + +<p><br /><br />AURELIAN;</p> + +<p>Emperor of Rome. A tale of the Roman Empire in the Third Century. +By William Ware, author of "Zenobia," etc. Handsomely printed from +new, large type, and illustrated with twenty full-page plates in half-tone +from photographs of Roman scenes described in the story. Small 8vo, +cloth, gilt top, <i>uniform with our holiday edition of</i> "Zenobia," each copy +in a box. $2.50.</p> + +<p>A companion edition to the handsome holiday edition of "Zenobia." It is +an historical tale of no ordinary power, and is familiar to the present generation +chiefly from the reputation of its former success, but well deserves renewed +popularity.</p> + +<p><br /><br />JULIAN;</p> + +<p>Or Scenes in Judea. By William Ware, author of "Zenobia," etc. Handsomely +printed from new, large type, on laid paper, and illustrated with +full-page plates reproducing historic scenes described in the narrative. +Small 8vo, cloth, gilt top, uniform with our holiday editions of "Zenobia" +and "Aurelian," each copy in a box. $2.50.</p> + +<p>Completes the series of historical romances by the author of "Zenobia." +The scene is laid at an earlier date than "Aurelian," being in fact during the +time of Christ's ministrations in Judea, scenes which have since been so +grandly used by Lew Wallace in "Ben Hur." To most of the present +generation the book will possess all the charm of novelty.</p> + +<h2><br /><br />Italian Cities Illustrated</h2> + +<p>ROME OF TO-DAY AND YESTERDAY:</p> + +<p>The Pagan Centuries. By John Dennie. New holiday edition. Illustrated +with maps, plans, and twenty full-page plates, reproducing, in photogravure, +photographs of the most important points of interest. Small +8vo, vellum cloth, cover design in gold and colors, gilt tops, slip covers, in +cloth case. $3.00.</p> + +<p><br /><br />GENOA THE SUPERB:</p> + +<p>The City of Columbus. By Virginia W. Johnson, author of "The Lily of +the Arno," etc. Handsomely printed from large type on laid paper and +illustrated with twenty full-page photogravure plates from actual photographs +of buildings, statues, church interiors, etc., in the City of Genoa. +Small 8vo, tastefully bound in white vellum cloth, illuminated in gold and +colors, gilt top, uncut edges, with slip cover in scarlet. Each copy in a +neat cloth case. $3.00.</p> + +<p><br /><br />THE LILY OF THE ARNO;</p> + +<p>Or, Florence, Past and Present, by Virginia W. Johnson. Charmingly +illustrated with twenty-five full-page photogravure plates from original +Photographs of points of interest in the beautiful City of Florence, "The +Lily of the Arno." Small 8vo, handsomely bound in white vellum cloth, +with cover design in gold and colors, gilt top, uncut edges, with slip +covers in scarlet. Each copy in a neat cloth case. $3.00.</p> + +<p><br /><br />NAPLES; THE CITY OF PARTHENOPE;</p> + +<p>And its environs. By Clara Erskine Clement, author of "A Handbook of +Legendary and Mythological Art," "The Queen of the Adriatic," etc. +Handsomely illustrated with twenty full-page plates in photogravure from +photographs of historic scenes in and around Naples. Small 8vo, +handsomely bound in extra cloth, with handsome cover design, gilt top, +slip cover, in a neat cloth case. $3.00.</p> + +<p><br /><br />THE QUEEN OF THE ADRIATIC;</p> + +<p>Or, Venice, Mediæval and Modern. By Clara Erskine Clement, author of +"A Handbook of Legendary and Mythological Art," etc. Handsomely +illustrated with twenty full-page photogravures from recent photographs +of the principal points of interest. Small 8vo, vellum cloth, illuminated +in gold and colors, gilt tops, with slip cover, in cloth case. $3.00.</p> + + +<h2><br /><br />Great Cities of the World.</h2> + +<p>THE CITY OF THE SULTANS;</p> + +<p>Or, Constantinople, the Sentinel of the Bosphorus. By Clara Erskine +Clement, author of "Naples," "Queen of the Adriatic," etc. Handsomely +illustrated with full-page photogravures from original photographs. +Small 8vo, cloth, substantially uniform in style with series of "Italian +Cities Illustrated." with slip cover, in cloth case. $3.00.</p> + +<p>The initial volume of a new series of handsome gift books, companions to +the popular "Italian Cities Illustrated." Other volumes in press.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.</i></p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nautilus, by Laura E. 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