CHAPTER XVI.

PISTOLS FOR TWO.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when The Starry Flag arrived from her cruise. Her passengers were immediately landed; and, after the vessel had been put in order, the four young men who lived in Rockport were permitted to go on shore; and the cook went with them, intending to return in the evening with the boat. The steward did not wish to visit the town, and remained on board as ship-keeper.

Mr. Ebénier was so polite and attentive to the wants of the passengers, and, above all, used such choice language, that he had become quite a favorite. Bessie, who had made considerable progress in her French, was delighted with him, as well because he was an original character, as because he anticipated all her wants. She talked French with him; indeed, all except Levi used the "polite language" at the table to a great extent. The steward was treated with a great deal of consideration by all the occupants of the cabin. This was what he most desired, and after the party had been on board two or three days, he ceased to think of leaving the yacht before the close of the season. Such a friend as Mr. Watson was worth more than the contents of the three bags concealed in the vessel's run.

But ever since he had placed the treasure in its hiding-place, the gospel malediction, "lose his own soul," had been thundering in his ears. The temptation was a strong one; but the steward had thus far been an honest man, and the present seemed to be the crisis of his lifetime. The kindness and consideration of the captain and his passengers won his heart, and he had determined that Levi, in the words with which he clothed the idea, should be triumphantly vindicated.

Mr. Ebénier reasoned that his captain could not be vindicated by simply returning the gold to the old man, his uncle. The two men whom he had failed to identify in the Hotel de Poisson must be discovered; and he determined to find them, if it were possible. On this subject he had some views of his own, and he concluded to let the gold remain where it was until he could institute an investigation: we use the gentleman's own words, subsequently uttered.

The steward dared not leave the yacht when the others went on shore. If he had not recognized the two men, they had probably recognized him. They must suppose he had taken possession of the money, and they would expect to find it if an opportunity to search the yacht was afforded to them. Mr. Ebénier did not intend to give them any such opportunity; therefore he remained on board. He went farther than this. The robbers might come on board while he was there alone, overpower him, and thus regain their plunder. The steward kept a revolver in his carpet-bag; for, being a man of varying fortunes, he was liable at any time to be in a situation to need such a weapon. He took the pistol from the bag, loaded it, and put it into his pocket. It was his duty, as ship-keeper, to defend the vessel in the absence of the captain; and the weapon gave him a strong assurance of safety.

From his house Dock Vincent watched the movements of the crew of the yacht. Levi and five men had landed; consequently the steward must be on board alone. But he had decided to pay him a visit, whether alone or not. In Dock's classic speech, he was "going to fix that nigger," and he was watching for the opportunity to do the "fixing." One of the Caribbee's boats was at the landing, and as soon as the crew of the yacht had landed, he pulled off to her. His coming was not unexpected, and Mr. Ebénier, in spite of the injuries he had received at the hands of the visitor, was as smooth and polite as though his temper had never been ruffled.

"Steward, I want to talk with you a little while," said Dock, as, without an invitation, he stepped upon the deck of the yacht.

"Though I have no particular inducements to condescension, so far as you are concerned, I am willing, in this instance, to gratify you," replied Mr. Ebénier, graciously.

"If you don't object, we will go down into the cabin, where we shall not be interrupted," added Dock.

"Though it is not customary to admit any but gentlemen into the cabin, I shall be happy to waive the rule in this instance, as all our people are on shore," answered Mr. Ebénier, as he led the way to the cabin.

Dock Vincent paid no attention to the polished insults of the steward, but seated himself on a stool, at the side of the table. Mr. Ebénier took his place opposite the guest.

"Now, Captain Dock Vincent, I am entirely at your service," said the steward.

"It won't take a great while to get off what I want to say," Dock began, putting a very uncompromising look upon his ugly face. "I suppose you know the old man that lost the money."

"I have not the honor to be personally acquainted with him, but I am informed that he is the paternal uncle of Captain Levi Fairfield."

"That's so; and Levi has treated him in the most shabby manner."

"Permit me to interrupt you, Captain Vincent," interposed the steward. "It would not be possible for Captain Fairfield to treat any person in a shabby manner, certainly not his own uncle."

"On that point we differ, steward; but let me say what I was going to say."

"Proceed, Captain Vincent. I simply refuse to indorse your statement, and I protest against it."

"All this is neither here nor there. To come right down to the p'int, the old man lost four thousand dollars in gold. I'm trying to help him find it. I know just as well as I know anything, that Levi stole that money. All the circumstances go to show that he did, letting alone the fact that one of the bags was found in his state-room."

"Not without an earnest protest can I permit my worthy captain to be maligned in this unjustifiable manner. On my own responsibility I declare that your statement is utterly false."

"I am satisfied it's just as I say," persisted Dock. "Now, we'll go a p'int closer to the wind. I'm almost certain that the gold Levi stole is hid aboard this vessel."

"And you wish to search the yacht for it?" added the steward.

"That's just my idea," replied Dock, promptly.

"Permitting such a search would be an acknowledgment, on my part, of the possibility of my worthy captain's guilt; therefore I cannot suffer such an investigation to be instituted."

"Well, steward, whether you are going to suffer it or not, it's going to be done," said Dock, savagely. "I didn't come off here, this time, to be fooled with. I know the gold's on board, and I'm going to have it."

"You know it," repeated the steward, calmly.

"Yes, I know it."

"So do I," added Augustus, quietly.

"You do!" exclaimed Dock. "I knew you did! I've been satisfied all along that you knew all about it, and that you was helping Levi cover up his guilt. I suppose he was going to give you something for it."

"One of your statements, namely, that the money is on board of this yacht, is assuredly correct; but your theory, your logic, your premises, and your conclusions are undoubtedly false and absurd," said the steward, a cheerful smile playing beneath his huge mustache.

"Isn't the gold here?" demanded Dock, impatiently.

"It is."

"Then quit your flabbergast, and talk in plain English. Of course Levi stole it."

"Not he!"

"Who did, then?"

"You and another person. Excuse me, Captain Vincent, if my remarks seem too personal; but I have a theory of my own, which, with your permission, I will unfold to you. Have a glass of cold water, sir?"

The steward filled a tumbler from the ice pitcher, and politely tendered it to the guest.

"No; I don't want any; go on with your yarn," growled Dock, sourly, for he desired to ascertain what the steward knew.

"We need use no undue haste in our deliberations," replied Augustus, as he drank the glass of water.

"Go on, and don't talk any flabbergast."

"The money was stolen by you and another person."

"Humph! What other person?"

"To be entirely candid with you, I do not yet know who the other person is; but a certain contingent event will expose him." He referred to the return of the fishing vessel, with Ben Seaver, who had handed him the bag. "You and the other person—to me at present unknown—stole the money, and concealed it in the Hotel de Poisson."

"In the what?"

"I refer to the fish-house, which was consumed in the conflagration of ten days ago. After you had knocked me down by hurling a stone at me in the basest and most unchivalrous manner, on my recovery from the effects of the blow, I went to the fish-house to sleep, being too late to return on board. I was in the loft when you and the other person were below. The floor broke, and I had the misfortune to be precipitated upon you and your companion in infamy. You ran away; but I found the gold, and brought it on board. This is my theory, Captain Dock Vincent."

"This is all a lie!" gasped Dock, putting his hand into his side pocket.

"On the contrary, it is all the sacred truth."

"See here, steward; you can't fool me. I want that money."

"Allow me to inform you that you cannot have it. In due time it shall be restored to the rightful owner."

"I can and will have it," said Dock, fiercely, as he took a revolver from his pocket, and pointed it at the head of the steward.

"I think not," replied Mr. Ebénier, producing his revolver; and, straightening out his legs under the table, he threw himself into an attitude as impudent as the human form could assume, while upon his face played an expression of smiling assurance, which took the ruffian all aback.

Dock's hand trembled, and the pistol vibrated in his grasp, as he looked in dismay at the steward's weapon, all capped and cocked, as his own was not—a circumstance which probably helped Mr. Ebénier in keeping so cool and self-possessed.

"Why don't you fire, Captain Dock Vincent?" taunted the steward. "If you move you are a dead man!"

At this moment a boat touched the side of the vessel; and while the two men were confronting each other as described, Levi entered the cabin. He was startled by the array of deadly weapons presented to him as he descended the steps; but neither Dock nor the steward appeared to notice him, for each was afraid the other would fire if his attention was for an instant diverted.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE GOLD RESTORED.

Levi could see no good reason why Dock Vincent and the steward of the yacht should be such deadly enemies as to draw pistols on each other. He had come on board for a travelling bag, which Bessie had left in her state-room, and he was not prepared for the scene that met his view in the cabin.

"What are you about, Augustus?" demanded he.

But the steward was obliged to attend to the ugly customer opposite him at the table, and he made no reply—a piece of rudeness, however, which he regretted as an absolute necessity.

"Captain Dock Vincent, I will trouble you to lay your weapon on the table," said the steward. "If you don't do it, I will fire."

Dock did it.

"Pardon me, Captain Fairfield, for my rudeness in not replying to your question," continued Augustus.

"I asked you what you were about," repeated Levi.

"I was about to shoot this ruffian, and I should have done so if I had not happened to observe, in good time, that his weapon was not in condition to go off."

Dock Vincent rose from his seat, leaving his revolver on the table. Probably he had not expected to use it, believing the sight of it would be sufficient to intimidate the steward, and induce him to give up the three bags of gold. He looked at the colored man, then at Levi. The former had dropped his revolver, seeing which the ruffian walked towards the cabin door. As the movement was not opposed, he ran up the steps, jumped into his boat, and pulled for the Caribbee.

Levi again impatiently demanded an explanation of the scene he had witnessed. The steward, commencing back at the day of the examination, related, in his prolix and grandiloquent speech, all the events in which he had been the chief actor, up to the current incident of the day. He did not confess that he had been tempted to steal the money, for he regarded the overcoming of the temptation as a sufficient virtue, without the humiliation of exposing his own weakness.

"Then the gold is on board now!" exclaimed the astonished Levi.

"Yes, sir; it is concealed in the run," replied Augustus.

"Why didn't you tell me of all this before?"

"Because I wished to find the men that stole the money. I thought I could do it better alone than I could with the constables, or anybody else," answered Augustus; but he hung his head as he thought of the dishonest purpose he had cherished.

He had resisted the temptation, but his conscience was sensitive enough to make him regret that he had even been tempted to steal.

Levi was thoughtful and troubled. The triumphant vindication of his captain which the steward had promised himself to bring about was not likely to be realized. The gold was on board of the yacht, and could be restored to Mr. Fairfield; but the vessel had been searched for it, and restoring it looked more like confirming the vile charge against him than like disproving it. Perhaps it would be better for his reputation to keep the money until the return of Ben Seaver; but Levi could not believe it was right to retain the gold even a single day. He was honest and true, and he determined to do his duty before God and man, letting his reputation take care of itself.

He directed the steward to bring out the bags from their hiding-place. The name on the tow-cloth, in his uncle's cramped writing, assured him there could be no mistake in regard to the ownership. The steward told him there was thirty-eight hundred and fifty dollars in the bags—one hundred and fifty dollars less than the sum lost. The robbers had probably taken out one hundred dollars for present use, and fifty for the snare which was to intrap the captain of the yacht. One of the bags had been emptied, and its contents distributed among the other three.

The gold was transferred to the boat, the cabin doors and forward scuttles were locked, and Levi, accompanied by the steward, pulled ashore, and landed at Mr. Watson's house.

The exciting story of the recovery of the money was repeated, and the young skipper declared his intention to restore the bags to Mr. Fairfield. Mr. Watson volunteered to go with him on this interesting errand. With the bags in his hands, Levi entered the kitchen, where his uncle was seated, followed by his constant friend.

"There is your money, uncle Nathan," said he, as he placed the bags on the table.

"What! the gold?" demanded the miser, with breathless eagerness.

"Yes, sir, the gold," replied Levi.

"All of it?" gasped the old man, rising from his chair, while his frame trembled under the excitement of the moment.

"All but one hundred and fifty dollars."

"I think you ought to give me back the whole on't, Levi."

"Fifty dollars more of it is in the hands of Squire Saunders."

"But then there's a hund'ed gone," added the old man, as he clutched the bags, and raised them to test their weight.

"I suppose the thieves took a hundred dollars of the money," said Levi.

"Who's the thieves?"

"I don't know who they are; but I think they will be discovered in due time. The steward of the yacht found these bags in the old fish-house that was burned."

Mr. Watson and Levi had agreed that the ends of justice would best be answered by saying no more than this at present. Both of them were satisfied that Dock Vincent was one of the robbers, but unfortunately there was no evidence that connected him with the crime. Though he had gone on board the yacht, and demanded the gold of the steward, he had done so in the name of the owner; and the act was consistent with his position as the agent of Mr. Fairfield.

The old man asked a great many questions, but he obtained only the facts; all theories and suspicions were suppressed. Mr. Watson had sent the steward for Mr. Gayles, and before they left the miser's house he arrived; and the party proposed to visit the fish-house, and examine the premises, in search of any evidence that might be obtained.

Though Mr. Fairfield was overjoyed to find his gold, his satisfaction did not prevent him from growling sorely at the loss of the hundred dollars. He insisted that Levi ought to make it up to him. He followed the party out of the house, and would have gone to the ruins of the Hotel de Poisson with them, if Dock Vincent, who had just landed, had not joined him.

The steward told his story over again; and the metallic parts of the lantern, which still remained there, were a partial confirmation of the truth of it. Mr. Gayles took possession of these pieces, hoping to be able to prove something by them. While they were still discussing the matter, Dock Vincent and Mr. Fairfield joined them.

"If you make up that hund'ed dollars, Levi, I won't say nothin' more about it," whined the old man.

"I shall not do so, uncle Nathan," replied Levi.

"Certainly not," added Mr. Watson.

"He ought to do it," interposed Dock. "He stole the money, and the least he can do is to give it all back."

"I do not wish to hold any conversation with you on the subject," answered the merchant, coldly.

"I suppose you don't," sneered Dock. "It has all turned out just as I said it would. Levi stole the money, and got that black steward to help him when he was like to be found out. I knew, all the time, that money was on board the yacht; and Squire Fairfield may thank me for getting it for him. I made the steward own up that the gold was on board; and after that Levi didn't dare to keep it any longer. I suppose you don't want to say anything more about it after that."

"Not to you," added Mr. Watson, as he walked away, followed by his companions.

"There, Squire Fairfield, you can see them sneaking off like sheep-stealers," said Dock. "It's just as I tell you, you may depend upon it; and if Levi don't make up that hundred, I should put him through a course of sprouts."

"He ought to gim me the whole of the money," replied Mr. Fairfield, who accepted Dock's explanation in regard to the recovery of the gold.

"I reckon you'll get it yet. But, Squire Fairfield, I expect I shall get off in two or three days now, and I want that money I spoke to you about," added Dock, as they walked towards the road. "I am going to sail for New York first, buy the goods there, and then go to Australia. You are going to make thirty thousand dollars out of me, and you can afford to accommodate me a little. I expect you will get the whole thirty thousand before I sail from New York; I know you will."

Dock talked half of that night to the old man, and finally persuaded him to raise the sum he required. The gold which had been restored to him made up a large portion of it, and the next day he obtained the rest. The emigrant had sold his house, and disposed of his furniture to the buyer, who was to have possession as soon as Dock sailed.

While Mr. Fairfield and his villanous companion were discussing the loan, Mr. Gayles called at Dock's house, after dark, to borrow a lantern, having ascertained that he had recently purchased one at a store in town.

"We haven't any lantern now," replied Mrs. Vincent.

"I thought you had one. Captain Vincent bought one not long ago," added the constable.

"Well, he hasn't any now. I'm sure I don't know what's become of it. It may be he left it on board of the vessel. He never said what had become of it."

Without having proved the fact, Mr. Gayles was satisfied that Dock's lantern was the one broken by the steward when he fell from the loft of the fish-house. The parts he had taken from the ruins corresponded, in size and form, with one which the shopkeeper declared was like that he had sold Dock. The constable worked hard to obtain evidence enough to warrant the arrest of Dock before he sailed for Australia; but Squire Cleaves declared that the lantern was not sufficient.

On the day after Dock obtained the money from Mr. Fairfield, he moved his family on board of the Caribbee, which had already cleared at the custom-house. Mr. Gayles was alarmed lest he should escape, and hastened to Squire Cleaves for advice.

"We must not let him go," said the lawyer. "Where is that colored man, Mr. Ebénier?"

"I saw him at Mr. Watson's house ten minutes ago."

"Bring him to me."

The steward was brought to him, and he was induced to make a charge against Dock of assault and battery. A warrant was obtained, and Mr. Gayles, with a sufficient posse, went to the Caribbee to arrest him. His wife, and a man whose name was not known, but who was said to be a passenger in the schooner, declared that he had gone to New York on business, and the vessel would not sail till his return. Certainly Dock was not on board, and it was ascertained at the depot that he had taken the train for Boston.

CHAPTER XVIII.

MAT MOGMORE.

Mr. Gayles watched the Caribbee night and day; but he saw nothing of Dock Vincent. Mr. Fairfield said his neighbor and friend had informed him, several days before, of his intention to go to New York. The constable was forced to believe that the people on board his vessel had told the truth, and he could only wait for his return. Of course the Caribbee would not sail on her long voyage without him, and there seemed to be but little danger of losing his man.

The only strange circumstance was, that Dock had sent his family on board of the vessel; but he had not much consideration for his wife and children, and would not scruple to add a week of confinement to the three or four months' duration of the proposed voyage. The man on board, who was said to be a passenger, and was a stranger in Rockport, appeared to take a lively interest in the affairs of the vessel and her owner. It was surmised that, as Dock was not a skilful navigator, he had been employed to furnish the science for the vessel. Neither he nor any one on board professed to know when Dock would return, or when the Caribbee would sail.

On Monday evening, when Dock had been gone three days, Levi had taken tea at Mr. Watson's, and was reading the daily paper, which the merchant had brought from Boston.

"That's too bad!" suddenly exclaimed the young skipper, dropping the paper, and looking at Bessie.

"What's too bad, Levi?" she asked.

"There's to be a yacht race in Portland harbor to-morrow, at eleven o'clock, to sail for a silver pitcher."

"I do not see anything wicked in that," laughed Bessie.

"Nor I; but it is wicked that I did not know of it before. I am sure The Starry Flag will beat anything of her size this side of New York; and I am provoked to think I did not know of this race sooner, for a silver pitcher would be a very handsome ornament for our cabin."

"Is it too late now?" asked Mr. Watson.

"The race comes off at eleven, to-morrow forenoon, and five yachts have already entered," answered Levi, glancing at the paper again.

"Well, haven't you time to sail down there before the race?"

"If we sail to-night we have time enough. We can get there in ten hours with a good breeze; with a stiff one, in six," replied Levi, beginning to be excited.

"How is the wind now?"

"About west—a six-knot breeze."

"Let us start at once, then. I had as lief sleep on board the yacht as on shore," said Mr. Watson.

"O, do go!" exclaimed Bessie.

"Do go!" repeated Mr. Watson, laughing. "Do you expect to sail in a regatta, Bessie?"

"To be sure I do! I must go, father! I have been longing, ever since we had the yacht, to sail in a real live race."

"But, Bessie, we must make a night run to Portland."

"So much the better! I shall enjoy it above all things. My state-room on board is just as good as my chamber up stairs, and I like it better."

"Your aunt Mary is sick, and cannot go with you," suggested her father, alluding to Mrs. McGilvery.

"But you are going, father," persisted Bessie.

"True, I am; but——"

"Do let me go, father."

"I suppose you must go if you insist upon it."

"I do insist with all my might!" exclaimed Bessie, delighted with the prospect.

"It will take us a couple of hours to get ready," said Levi, as he looked at his watch; "but we can get off by ten o'clock. The only difficulty I can see is, that yachts must be entered on the day before the race;" and he picked up the newspaper again.

"We must get over that somehow," replied Mr. Watson, who seemed to be quite as much interested as Levi and his daughter.

"How? With the best breeze we can expect, we can hardly reach Portland before six in the morning."

"While you are getting the yacht ready, I will ride over to Gloucester, and telegraph to a friend of mine in Portland, who will have The Starry Flag entered to-night."

"That will do it splendidly!" exclaimed Bessie, delighted to have the obstacle removed.

"The cook and steward are on board, but the hands are all at home," said Levi. "I will go and find them."

Mr. Watson rang the bell, and ordered the horse and buggy. Bessie went to her room to prepare for the cruise, and Levi hastened over to Mr. Mogmore's house, where he found Mat, whom he sent to look up the other three hands. The young skipper pulled off to the yacht. The water tanks were examined, and found to contain a week's supply at least. The steward was sent on shore, with directions to bring off the men, and a stock of ice and fresh provisions, after he had put the two state-rooms in order.

By the time Augustus had procured his steak, chops, butter, milk, and ice, the four hands had assembled at the landing-place, in readiness to go on board.

"Hurry up, now!" said the steward. "Captain Fairfield is waiting for us."

"There!" exclaimed Mat Mogmore, "I have forgotten one thing. The captain told me to see Mr. Gayles, and tell him the yacht was going to Portland; and I did not think of it till this minute."

"We can't wait for you," replied the steward, impatiently.

"You needn't wait. I will get some one to put me on board. Go ahead!" And Mat ran up the rocks, and hastened towards Mr. Gayles's house.

But he hurried only a moment, till the darkness concealed his form from his shipmates. Instead of going up to the town, he returned to the landing-place as soon as the boat had left. While he stood on the rocks, the clock struck nine. A few moments later, a boat, containing one man, pulled up to the Point.

"Is it all right?" asked the person in the boat.

"All right," answered Mat Mogmore, as he stepped into the boat. "We have no time to lose; Mr. Watson will return soon."

Mat took one of the oars, and they rowed over to the landing-place, in the rear of Mr. Watson's house. Mat went up to the side door and rang the bell. He was admitted to the entry, and told the servant he wished to see Miss Watson. Bessie, who was now all ready, came down stairs with her travelling bag in her hand.

"Captain Fairfield sent me on shore for you," said Mat.

"Where is my father?" asked Bessie.

"He is on board. He was in a hurry to see the captain, and went on board with the steward. The yacht is all ready to sail now, as soon as you go on board."

It was not exactly like Levi to send one of his hands after her; but the yacht was going off in a hurry, and he must be very busy. It was strange that her father did not come home before he went on board; but perhaps he had learned something more about the race, and was in haste to inform Levi of it. She was only afraid that the trip would be abandoned. Her mother came to the entry, told her to "wrap up warm," be careful not to take cold, and then kissed her with an affectionate adieu. Mat Mogmore led the way down to the boat, and assisted her to a seat in the stern-sheets.

The night was clear; but it was quite dark, and the darkness on the water is deeper, and more dense, to a person unaccustomed to the sea, than on the land. Bessie was not afraid; but after the boat had gone a few rods from the shore, she had no idea where she was, for the gloom of night breeds confusion in the mind on the sea.

Bessie did not recognize Mat's companion in the boat; but she supposed he was one of the crew of the yacht. He did not speak, and she had no reason to suspect that anything was wrong. Mat Mogmore was well known to her, and had been long before the yacht was built. He was one of Levi's hands, and his presence, if she had had any suspicions, would have been enough to satisfy her.

"How dark it is!" said Bessie to Mat, who pulled the after oar.

"Not very dark, miss," replied Mat. "The stars are out, and we don't call it very dark when we can see them."

"But I cannot see anything, or tell where I am. I can see the lights in the town, but I can't make out anything else."

"Because you are not used to it. Can't you see the yacht right ahead of us?"

"I can see the outline of a vessel, but I couldn't tell whether it was The Starry Flag or a fishing vessel."

"It's the yacht."

Bessie looked around her, and tried to distinguish the headlands, which looked like masses of darkness resting beneath the star-lit sky.

"Now you can see the yacht," said Mat, as the boat approached a vessel which was not unlike the yacht.

"Yes, I see her plain enough now," answered Bessie, taking it for granted.

"It's a very pleasant night to sail," added Mat, as the boat ran up alongside the vessel.

"Beautiful!" exclaimed Bessie, as she looked up to the stars.

The boat was brought up to the gangway; the man at the bow oar stepped out and assisted her on board. Mat Mogmore did not follow her, but pushed off the boat, and pulled away into the darkness. It still wanted more than half an hour of the time appointed for the sailing of the yacht. Mat pulled a short distance from the vessel, and then lay upon his oars. He waited there fifteen minutes, either to kill the time or to arrange his plans, and then ran up alongside the yacht.

He had put Bessie on board of the Caribbee!

He was actually in the employ of Dock Vincent.

Mat stepped on the deck of The Starry Flag, whose foresail and mainsail had been hoisted, and her anchor hove short. The lamps in the cabin and state-rooms were lighted, and the steward was as busy as a bee, and delighted at the thought of once more having the beautiful young lady on board; for it was a joy to serve her, her smile was so sweet, her voice so pleasant, and her heart so full of kindness.

"Where are you, Mat?" demanded Levi, as the treacherous seaman came on board.

"My mother has just had a fit, and they say she will not live till morning," replied Mat, in the most disconsolate of tones. "I shouldn't have come on board at all if Mr. Watson hadn't sent me with a message to you."

"What was the message?" asked Levi, tenderly, for he was full of pity for Mat.

"He told me to tell you that he and Miss Bessie would meet you in Portland on your arrival. Her mother made such a fuss about her going off in the night without her aunt, that her father decided to take the cars, for he heard in Gloucester that an excursion train would come along about twelve o'clock."

"Very well," said Levi. "I will go on shore with you and see about it. I hope your mother will get better."

"I hope so. Mr. Watson started right off in the buggy with Bessie."

"Has he gone?"

"Yes, he went right off. He was in a hurry, for he has to drive to Beverly to catch the train. You won't see him if you go on shore."

"Then I think I will not go; but I will not keep you a moment," added Levi.

"If you want another hand in my place, I can get Tom Sampson."

"We can get along very well without any more help," replied Levi, as Mat pushed off.

Levi was vexed that Mrs. Watson's timidity had deprived him of Bessie's company; but it was like her, and on their trip to the eastward, he had been obliged to be in port every night to please her. However, he would receive his passengers on board at Portland the next morning; and, in a few minutes more, the yacht tripped her anchor, and sailed out of the bay.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE CARIBBEE.

Bessie Watson stood upon the deck of the Caribbee, and in the darkness of the night she did not at first discover that the vessel was not The Starry Flag. She wondered that Levi, with his accustomed devotion, did not spring to receive her when she came on board; that the steward did not present his smiling face; and that her ever-anxious father failed to assure himself that she did not fall overboard in passing from the boat to the vessel. She was an only daughter, and when she appeared it was customary to "turn out the guard" and pay all the honors.

To say that Bessie Watson was a pretty girl, is saying very little. She was a good girl—and this is saying something more, and something better. Nothing but a true heart and excellent common sense saved her from being spoiled by the indulgence of her father and mother. Another devotee was added to those who adored her; but she refused to be spoiled even by Levi's flattery, if such it could be called; for the young skipper was as sincere in his admiration of her as of the yacht he commanded. Bessie did not pout or flout when neither Levi nor her father appeared to receive her.

The man who had been in the boat with Mat Mogmore was Captain Gauley, the stranger. After handing Bessie on board, he led the way, in silence, towards the cabin. There were no lights on deck, and she could see no difference between the two vessels, even when she had descended the steps into the cabin; for no light appeared there. The darkness had been chosen to help the illusion, and Bessie had to feel her way. She came to the table in the middle of the cabin, and knowing that there were lockers forming seats below the berths, she groped her way to the side of the apartment, and seated herself.

"All hands are busy forward in getting under way," said her conductor, from the steps.

"Where is the steward?" asked Bessie.

"He has been so hurried putting away his stores that he has not been in the cabin."

"Are you a new hand?" asked Bessie, who did not recognize the voice of the man.

"I am; I am only going this trip."

"Send the steward, if you please, to light the lamps," added Bessie, who was reasonable enough to understand that the yacht was going to sea on short notice, and she did not demand any unnecessary attention under the circumstances.

"I will send him right down if I can find him."

Captain Gauley went on deck; and Bessie heard a great rattling of ropes, a swaying of booms, and hasty footsteps above her. She could not see a thing; but she waited in the gloom for the steward to come and light the lamps. The noise on deck indicated that all hands were busy, as the man had said; and even yet she suspected nothing.

Mat Mogmore did not go on shore to see his sick mother. He heard the order of Captain Fairfield to man the windlass and stand by the head sails; then he pulled for the Caribbee, to which his boat belonged. Everything had worked to his entire satisfaction. Levi had been as credulous as he desired him to be, and The Starry Flag was standing out of the bay on her way to Portland.

"How is it?" asked Captain Gauley, in a low tone, as Mat came on deck.

"All right; the yacht is under way," replied Mat.

"We must get off at once, then."

"Don't be in a hurry; wait till the Flag has made a couple of miles, so that Levi won't notice the movements of this vessel. Where is the girl?"

"In the cabin. It is pitch dark there, and she has not found out where she is yet," answered Gauley, with a suppressed chuckle, as though the plan was not only a success, but a capital joke.

The foresail and the mainsail of the Caribbee were hoisted, and her crew were busy in getting up the anchor. By the time the preparations were completed, the yacht had disappeared in the darkness and the distance. The jib was hoisted, and the vessel stood out of the bay in a direction nearly opposite to that taken by the yacht.

Bessie began to be impatient. The yacht was under way, and still the steward did not come; still her father, who had nothing to do with working the vessel, did not make his appearance. Had they forgotten that she was on board? If they had, it would be the most remarkable thing that ever occurred. She could not understand it. She knew, as the vessel was now sailing, that Levi must be at the helm, just at the head of the stairs, and she decided to go up and speak to him. She could see the stars through the opening of the companion-way, and she had no difficulty in finding her way out of the cabin.

"Levi?" said she, as she stepped upon deck.

"He is not here," replied Captain Gauley, who was at the helm.

"Where is he?" asked Bessie; and, without knowing that anything was wrong, things began to look a little strange to her, or rather to feel so, for she could not see anything.

"I really don't know where he is, just now," replied the helmsman. "But he cannot be far off."

"The steward has not lighted the cabin yet," added she.

"The captain told the steward not to do so."

"Did he—why?"

"I think you cannot be accustomed to sailing near the land at night," added Captain Gauley.

"I really am not."

"The light would blind the helmsman's eyes so that he could not see the shore. As soon as we are clear of the Selvages we shall light up."

Bessie was satisfied with this explanation. On board of a Sound steamer she had observed that the windows in the forward part of the saloon were covered with thick canvas at night, so that the glare of the light near the boat should not deepen the gloom beyond it, and thus prevent the pilot from seeing the land, or other vessels in the distance. But she was not satisfied with her situation otherwise. The vessel did not feel like the yacht, and Levi and her father did not appear.

While she stood watching the helmsman, and trying to comprehend the inexplicable position of affairs, she saw a light in the cabin. She looked down, and perceived a woman in the act of lighting a lamp.

"Don't light that lamp!" shouted the man at the helm. "It blinds my eyes so that I can't see to steer."

The woman extinguished the match she was applying to the lamp, and darkness reigned in the cabin again. Who was the woman? She asked the helmsman.

"Your father thought you ought to have a female waiter, and he has obtained one," replied Captain Gauley; but she did not notice the chuckle with which he spoke.

Bessie knew that her father would not have provided a woman without consulting her, and she determined to inquire into the situation. She went down the cabin steps again, guided by faith, rather than sight, and felt her way to the locker where she had before been seated.

"Who is it?" asked the woman, from her place at the forward part of the cabin.

"It is I," replied Bessie. "Did my father employ you as stewardess of the yacht?"

"I guess not," replied the woman. "I'm not anybody's stewardess, I can tell you!"

"Who are you then?" asked Bessie, now really alarmed.

"Well, I'm Mrs. Vincent, of course. This is my husband's vessel, and I never expect to be a servant to anybody," answered the woman, rather indignant at being thought a stewardess, even in the dark. "Now, who are you?"

"I am Miss Watson," replied Bessie, her heart sinking within her, so that she could hardly utter the words.

"Miss Watson! Bless me! What, Mr. Watson's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Well, that is strange, sure enough!"

"Is Captain Dock Vincent your husband?" asked Bessie, almost choked with terror.

"Certainly he is."

"And this vessel is not The Starry Flag?"

"Why, no; it's the Caribbee. How on earth came you here?"

"I supposed it was the yacht—my father's yacht," gasped the poor girl, overwhelmed when she realized that she had fallen into a snare set by her former enemy.

"That's too bad; but I didn't know nothing at all about it. Waldock"—she called her husband by his full given name—"Waldock is up to some awful trick."

It was a consolation to know that the woman was not a party to her husband's wicked scheme. Bessie explained how she had been entrapped; but Mrs. Vincent declared that she did not even know the vessel was to sail that night. She had retired with her two children at nine o'clock, and got up when she felt the motion of the vessel under way.

"Where is she going?" asked Bessie, wiping away the tears that dimmed her eyes.

"We are all going to Australia."

"Where is your husband?" demanded Bessie, with a shudder.

"I'm sure I don't know. He went off to New York; but of course we are not going to Australia without him."

While they were talking, Mat Mogmore came into the cabin, and lighted a lamp.

"Mat, what does all this mean?" said Mrs. Vincent, sharply.

"We have carried the thing out just as Captain Vincent told us to do," replied Mat.

"What did he tell you to do?"

"He left us to get Miss Watson on board. We haven't had a chance to do so before, though we have been watching three or four days for one."

"Why did you wish to get me on board?" inquired Bessie, trembling in every fibre of her frame.

"O, you needn't be frightened, Miss Watson. You are not to be hurt, and you are to be treated as well as if you were on board of the yacht. Three years ago your father and Levi sent Captain Vincent to the state prison. He didn't forget it, and he is going to carry out the plan he began upon then."

"Am I to be carried to Australia?" asked Bessie.

"That depends on your father. If he pays the money Captain Vincent asks, we shall send you back. Your father and Levi served the captain a mean trick, and he always said he would get even with them; and I think he will now."

"But how came you in this vessel, Mat?" asked Bessie.

"I went into the yacht for the sole purpose of doing the little job I finished up to-night," answered Mat, with a sneaking smile.

"O, what a wretch!" exclaimed Bessie.

"A wretch? Well, perhaps I am; but it pays better than going before the mast in the yacht. Captain Vincent has your father this time where he can hold him," added Mat. "Levi has gone off to Portland to sail in the race, and he can't do anything for you this time. If you have a mind to write to your father, and tell him to come down with the rocks, I will see that he gets the letter within a week or so. He must put down about a hundred thousand dollars this time."

"Poor girl!" ejaculated Mrs. Vincent. "I pity you; but my husband is an awful man, and I can't do anything about it."

"We haven't anything against her," said Mat. "She is to have a state-room by herself, and live like a lady. That's the captain's orders. The matter rests there, and it isn't any use to say anything more about it."

Mat went on deck, leaving Bessie to weep over her unhappy fate, with no one but Mrs. Vincent to comfort her.