CHAPTER XX.

DOCK VINCENT'S LETTER.

Mr. Watson drove to Gloucester; but at this hour in the evening he had some difficulty in finding the telegraphic operator, and it was fully ten o'clock before he returned to his house in Rockport, ready to go on board of the yacht.

"Why, I thought you had gone!" exclaimed Mrs. Watson, when her husband presented himself.

"No; I was detained in Gloucester. Where is Bessie."

"Bessie has gone on board of the yacht. Mat Mogmore came for her, and said you had gone off in the steward's boat."

"There is some mistake about it," replied Mr. Watson; but he had no idea of the stupendous mistake which had been made.

He went out to the pier; but, having no boat, he hastened over to the Point to obtain a skiff, though he could not see why a boat from The Starry Flag was not waiting for him. All was still on the Point; but he found a dory, in which he pulled off to the place where the yacht usually lay when in port. He could not find her. It was evident that she had sailed; and it was more certain than before that a great mistake had been made. He returned to the Point. Mr. Gayles was there. He had come down to assure himself that the Caribbee had not stolen a march upon him. He could not see her in the gloom of the night. He recognized Mr. Watson, as he landed from the dory.

"Did you see the Caribbee?" asked the constable.

"No; did you see the yacht?" demanded the anxious father.

"I did not."

Mr. Watson stated the circumstances; but the officer could neither assist nor enlighten him.

The Starry Flag was miles away to the north-north-east, and the Caribbee was miles away to the south-south-east.

Levi had gone, Bessie had gone, the Caribbee had gone. Mr. Watson wanted to know why Levi had gone without him; but there was no one to tell him. He did not suspect that Bessie had not gone with him. Mr. Gayles wanted to know why the Caribbee had sailed without Dock Vincent; but there was no one to tell him. Standing on the Point, both were vexed and perplexed; but neither could help himself, and neither could solve the mystery. Both went home.

Mrs. Watson was alarmed when her husband told her that the yacht had gone without him. It was a fact—as Mat Mogmore had stated—that an excursion train left Boston at eleven o'clock for Portland. Many of the people of Rockport had gone to the city to hear a great singer, and were to return in this train. Levi knew of it, or he might have doubted Mat's story. Mr. Watson was a man of action. He ordered his fastest horse to be brought to the door; and he drove, at a furious pace, to Ipswich, which was a little nearer than Beverly, and the train would arrive there half an hour later. At five o'clock in the morning he was in Portland. He chartered a large sail-boat, and stood down the harbor. At seven o'clock he discovered The Starry Flag, off Cape Elizabeth.

Mr. Watson was angry because Levi had left him behind; angry because Levi had taken Bessie and not taken him. Though an unpleasant word had never before passed between them, the father—whose ideas of propriety were very clearly defined—determined that some emphatic words should be used on the present occasion. He paid his boatman, when the yacht had been hailed, and in due time was transferred to her.

"Where is Bessie?" asked Levi, before her father had time to utter a single sharp word.

The emphatic words were never spoken.

"Where is she?" repeated Mr. Watson. "Isn't she on board of the yacht?"

"No, sir," replied Levi, now alarmed, as her father was.

"Not here?"

"Certainly not. Didn't she come by railroad with you?"

"No; I haven't seen her since I started for Gloucester last night."

Levi almost sank upon the deck, and Mr. Watson's strength was all taken from him by the discovery that some mishap had befallen his daughter. Levi explained when he had breath enough to do so. Mr. Watson also explained, and each was in possession of all the information the other had; but their wisdom was foolishness, since it fell far short of the requirements of the moment.

"The Caribbee sailed last night, Levi," said Mr. Watson, who, however, did not regard the fact as of much importance, or as having any especial connection with the absence of Bessie.

"Sailed!" exclaimed Levi. "Then Bessie has sailed in her."

"I can hardly believe it," added Mr. Watson.

"It is another plan to extort money from you."

Levi persisted in his belief. Putting this and that together, he could almost demonstrate that Mat Mogmore was in the employ of Dock Vincent; indeed, Dock had told him that Mat intended to sail for Australia with him. Mr. Watson decided to return immediately to Rockport, and the yacht lay to off the railroad wharf long enough to land him. He took the morning train for Boston, and reached home at two o'clock.

The Starry Flag did not sail in the race that day. As soon as her owner had been landed, she was headed for Cape Ann again, and arrived before night. Levi was bewildered and confounded by the shock of the blow which had fallen upon him and the Watson family. He could do nothing, and in his inactivity he chafed like a caged lion. Mr. Watson had gone to Boston soon after his arrival, taking Mr. Gayles with him. He did not return till the next day. He had chartered a swift steamer, and the constable, with other officers, had gone in pursuit of the Caribbee.

In the morning mail, on the second day after the disappearance of Bessie, came a letter to her father. Levi was present when it was opened, and it contained a full confirmation of his theory that Bessie had been carried off in the Caribbee, and was now going half round the world to Australia. The letter was written by Dock Vincent, and dated ten days before its receipt. The villain assured the distracted parents that Bessie should be kindly cared for by Mrs. Vincent, and should be restored to her friends as soon as possible after her father had paid over to Mr. Fairfield the sum of seventy thousand dollars.

Mr. Watson dropped the letter on the floor, and breathed a deep sigh. He would have given double the sum for the return of Bessie; but his conscience would not permit him to reward villany like that of Dock Vincent.

"Levi, your uncle is concerned in this affair," said Mr. Watson, turning to the young skipper with a sad look.

"I suppose he is. I will go and see him at once."

"I will go with you."

They went.

"Mr. Fairfield, where is Dock Vincent?" asked the suffering father, when he and Levi had been admitted to the kitchen.

"I don't know no more'n nothin' in the world," whined the miser. "I hain't seen nothin' on him."

"You don't know!" repeated Mr. Watson, sternly.

"No more'n nothin' in the world," answered the old man, who realized that the first instalment of trouble on account of Dock's little plan was about to come upon him.

"Yes, you do know where he is. Read that letter;" and the merchant handed him the epistle he had received from Dock.

Mr. Fairfield took the letter, put on his glasses, and studied out its contents.

"I don't know nothin' about it," pleaded the old man, as he looked over his spectacles at the stern parent.

"Don't tell me that! I'm not to be trifled with. I want my daughter, and you are a party to this conspiracy. If you don't speak I'll wring an answer out of you by force," said Mr. Watson, his patience exhausted, and his indignation so aroused that he could not control it.

"I tell you I don't know nothin' at all about it. I hain't seen your darter, nor Cap'n Vincent nuther," whimpered the miser.

"No evasion! Answer me at once," thundered the enraged merchant, goaded to desperation by the anguish his injury called forth. "Your name is mentioned in this letter. You are to receive the money, and share it with the scoundrel who intends to filch it from me. Vincent did not go in the vessel. Where is he?"

"I don't know nothin' at all about it," answered Mr. Fairfield, wriggling like a worm in his chair.

"Yes, you do. You are to send the money to him. Where is he?" demanded Mr. Watson, as he seized the old man by the throat, and dragged him out of his chair.

"Lem me be!" sputtered the miser, trying to free himself from the grasp of the wrathful father.

"Speak, old man! Where is he? Speak, or I will tear the answer from you."

"Be calm, Mr. Watson," interposed Levi, gently.

"For massy's sake! You don't mean to kill him—do you?" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfield, alarmed for the safety of her husband. "Don't hurt him! He's a poor old man, and don't know no better."

Mr. Watson, conscious that he had gone too far in his violent indignation, released his grasp upon the miser, and he sank back into his chair more frightened than hurt.

"If I knew anything consarnin' this business, I'd tell you all about it," added the old man, when he had regained his breath.

"Uncle Nathan, this money is to be paid over to you, and you must know something about it," said Levi, decidedly.

"O, yes; you hate me, and you want to persecute me," replied the old man, bitterly, as he glanced spitefully at his nephew. "There, now, you broke my glasses," continued the miser, as he picked them up from the hearth, on which they had fallen. "I gin a dollar for them glasses; I'm a poor man, and 'tain't right I should lose 'em."

"Will you tell me where Vincent is, or shall I send a constable to arrest you for conspiracy?" demanded Mr. Watson.

"I don't know nothin' at all where he is," replied the miser, alarmed by this threat.

"You were to receive this money."

"That may be. Cap'n Vincent did tell me if you paid any money to me for him to keep it till he come for't. He didn't tell me nothin' at all he was go'n' to do, nor where he was goin' to. I hain't no idee in the world where he is."

This was all that either Mr. Watson or Levi could get out of the old man. It was really all he knew; and the visitors, disappointed and disheartened, retired from the miser's presence, though not till the merchant had declared that he did not intend to pay one penny to Dock to restore his daughter. The old man groaned when they had gone; but it was because he was to lose his reward, and probably the money he had loaned. It was a bitter hour to him.

Mr. Watson and Levi conferred together as they walked home. From that time no one passed in or out of the miser's house without being observed. Levi watched that day; but at nine o'clock in the evening, Mr. C. Augustus Ebénier took his place, to serve for the night.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE CARIBBEE SAILS FOR AUSTRALIA.

If Mrs. Dock Vincent had not been a person of higher moral purposes than her husband, sad indeed would have been the lot of the two children that slept in the captain's state-room on board of the Caribbee. As is often the case, she knew less of her husband's moral obliquity than the world at large, though even she knew enough to believe that he was not what he should be. People did not tell her of Dock's wicked deeds, and he complained bitterly to her of the hard treatment which the world bestowed upon him. That good men frowned at him and spurned him he unjustly attributed to their hypocrisy and self-esteem, rather than to his own evil deeds and evil intentions.

Dock had spent a term in the state prison, and his character was damaged, if not ruined. Men would not trust him, and the reprobate chafed under the public censure. To his wife and his friends he made himself appear like a deeply injured person, like a martyr—in what good cause he could not say. He was going to Australia to begin life anew, to carve out his fortune in a strange land, where he was not known. Mrs. Vincent was willing to leave her native land, and make a new home in a distant country for this purpose, for the motive seemed to be a laudable one.

She had no knowledge, guilty or innocent, of the abduction of Bessie, until after the Caribbee had sailed; but she felt herself powerless to undo the mischief. If her husband had been on board, she would not have dared to oppose him, he was so violent and savage when she interfered with his plans. She could at least protect the poor girl from insult and injury, and she determined to do this at all hazards. It was evident to her that the Caribbee would not proceed immediately to her destination without her owner and captain. It was probably the intention of Captain Gauley to put into some port before she started on her long voyage, when Dock would join her.

Mrs. Vincent pitied Bessie Watson, and almost hated her husband when she realized of what infamy he was capable. She comforted the poor girl as well as she was able, and promised to be her friend under all circumstances. She conducted her to an unoccupied state-room, which had doubtless been reserved for her use, and spent half the night with her; for Bessie trembled at the thought of being alone on board of the vessel of her great enemy.

Bessie was truly grateful to Mrs. Vincent, who, though rough and rude in her manners, was kind at heart; and her presence was a great comfort. The poor girl, torn thus suddenly from her friends, wept long and bitterly at her sad fate; but at last she fell asleep, committing herself to the care of the heavenly Father, and relying upon him for the succor which he alone could give. No one disturbed her; and Mrs. Vincent watched over her, as a child, till she was fast asleep.

When she awoke, late in the morning, she heard the voices of children in the cabin, and it was hard to realize that she was the victim of Dock Vincent's villany. She was kindly greeted by Mrs. Vincent, and the children stared at her as though she had come up from the depths of the ocean. She soon made friends with the boy of eight and the girl of ten, who were included in the family of her persecutor. After breakfast she went on deck with them, and learned that the vessel was off Cape Cod. Captain Gauley was very civil to her; but she did not allude to the events of the previous evening. He was a bad man, and she could hardly help shuddering in his presence.

All day long she played with the children, and short as she made the hours to them, they were very long to her. She was so gentle, and kind, and unselfish, even in her woe, that the little ones loved her, and would hardly leave her for a moment. She was certainly comforted by their presence, and her endeavors to assure them lightened the moments of the long day. The kindness of Mrs. Vincent did much to assure her; she was satisfied that nothing worse than a long separation from her parents was likely to happen to her. Feeling that it was useless to repine at her condition, or to weep over what she could not avoid, she resolved to make the best of it. There was no real hardship in her situation, and the circumstances were certainly more agreeable than when she had before been an involuntary passenger in Dock's vessel. The absence of the villain himself was perhaps her greatest consolation; but the presence of Mrs. Vincent and the children was a real comfort.

In the evening Bessie and Dock's wife talked the matter over again in her state-room. Mrs. Vincent roundly and unequivocally condemned the conduct of her husband. She had discovered that the Caribbee was now headed to the west, and it was plain to her that she was not yet on her way to Australia. Dock had told her he was going to New York, and it was possible that he intended to join them there. She told Bessie that she might be able to leave the vessel when she reached her destined port. The poor girl became more reconciled to her situation only because it was no worse, rather than because it was not bad enough. She slept well that night.

The next day she played with the children, read to them, and dressed the girl's doll in the latest fashion. In the evening, after Bessie had retired, the Caribbee ran by Sandy Hook, and made a harbor near Amboy, where she came to anchor. She was moored a mile from the shore, and no other vessel was near her. Captain Gauley had carried out the plans of Dock to the letter. He had been a steamboat pilot in these waters, and was quite familiar with the navigation. Dock had made his acquaintance while he was acting as mate of a boat, and the mate and the pilot were congenial spirits.

When Bessie went on deck with the children in the morning, Captain Gauley told her, if she wished to write to her father, her letter should be forwarded, as he was going on shore during the forenoon. She was glad to assure her parents of her safety, and she wrote a long letter, describing her capture and her situation on board of the Caribbee. She stated the facts as they were. Dock's agent was writing at the same time in the cabin; and when she was about to fold her sheet, he wished to see it. He read it through, tore off the heading, "Near New York," and the date, and then suggested that she had better ask her father to pay the money required for her release.

"My father must do as he thinks best about that," replied Bessie, decidedly.

"You don't understand your situation, I see," added the captain. "It is impossible for you to escape from the vessel, and if your father does not pay the money, you will go to Australia with us."

"My father will do what is best," repeated Bessie.

"Very well," added Captain Gauley, sourly. "If your father is not wiser than you are, you may spend the rest of your days in Australia."

Bessie made no reply, but folded and directed her letter. It was plain now that Dock was to levy his contribution on Mr. Watson before he came on board. This out-of-the-way place had been selected, where no one would be likely to hear of her, for the vessel to remain until Dock could obtain his money. Captain Gauley went off in a boat, with one man, leaving the schooner in charge of Mat Mogmore. He did not return till night; but Bessie, though she considered various plans to escape from the vessel, was satisfied that nothing could be done, for Mat watched her all the time. Her only hope was, that she might induce one of the sailors to assist her by promising him a large sum of money; but her vigilant guardian would not permit her to speak to any man on board. If one of the seamen came aft, he was ordered forward; and Bessie's hope faded away.

The Caribbee remained for ten days in the vicinity of Sandy Hook, changing her anchorage several times. Every day, either Mat Mogmore or Captain Gauley went on shore, evidently expecting to see Dock, or to hear from him. Bessie watched in vain for an opportunity to make a friend of one of the sailors, or to hail a passing boat; but so carefully was she guarded, that all hope in this direction was cut off. She began to wish that her father would pay the money, for this seemed to be her only chance of escape. Dock's non-appearance indicated that his little plan was not working as well as he had expected, and Mrs. Vincent and Bessie saw that Captain Gauley and Mat were becoming very anxious.

On the tenth day after the arrival of the Caribbee, Mat Mogmore, who had been on shore, returned with a letter, directed, in a strange hand, to Captain Gauley. He opened it in the cabin. It contained but a few lines, which he read and then hastened upon deck, leaving the letter on the table. The rattling of ropes and the flapping of sails were immediately heard; and it was plain to Bessie that the vessel was getting under way.

"I wonder what is to be done now," said Mrs. Vincent, coming out of her state-room.

"I don't know. Captain Gauley read the letter which lies on the table, and then hurried on deck," replied Bessie.

"A letter!" exclaimed Mrs. Vincent, who was continually on the lookout for news; for she was hardly less a prisoner than Bessie.

She took it from the table, and without hesitation opened it.

"It is from my husband," said she, glancing at the signature. "Things are going wrong with me, and you will sail for Australia without me," she read, "the moment you get this letter. Keep things as before, and do not let any one leave the vessel. If you don't do this, my only chance is lost. Be careful, for they are after you. I shall get the money, and go to Australia by steamer from England, and shall probably be there before you."

"Then we are actually starting for Australia!" exclaimed Bessie, with a deep sigh.

"I suppose so."

Bessie went into her state-room and wept bitterly, as all hope deserted her. She cried, and she prayed, and then endeavored to reconcile herself anew to her situation. The sails were hoisted, and the Caribbee was standing out to sea.

Captain Gauley was at the helm, and Mat Mogmore was at his side, talking with him about the prospect.

"If he wrote a letter at all, he ought to have told us all about it," said Mat, disappointed at the meagreness of the news from Dock.

"He says things are going against him."

"And he says they are after us; but he don't say who, nor what," added Mat. "I would like to know what has gone wrong, and who is after us."

"Do you see that schooner on the weather bow?" said Captain Gauley, pointing to a trim-looking craft. "She has an eye on us, and we must give her a wide berth. She came about just now, and is running across our fore-foot."

"That's the yacht, as true as I live!" exclaimed Mat, when he discovered her.

"What yacht?"

"The Starry Flag!"

She had been standing off and on between Sandy Hook and Coney Island for twenty-four hours, on the lookout for the Caribbee.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE TRAVELLER WHO LOST HIS WAY.

The steward of the yacht watched the house of Mr. Fairfield all night; but no one entered or left it. Levi took his turn the next day again; and, when he proposed to employ a fresh hand for the second night, Augustus insisted upon serving, himself. He had slept enough during the day, and he wanted the satisfaction of capturing Dock, if he presented himself.

This time he was in luck, as he declared, for about one o'clock at night, when the town was as still as though it contained not a single living inhabitant, the villain came to obtain his money, probably not doubting that by this time it had been paid to his agent.

The steward had stationed himself in such a position that no one could approach the house unseen by him. Just after the clock on one of the churches had struck one, he heard footsteps on the road, and presently a man stopped in front of the miser's house. Contrary to the usual custom of rogues and villains, he went up to the front door, and knocked vigorously. The heart of the watcher leaped with expectation, and he crept like a cat on the grass till he had obtained a position behind a lilac bush, near the front door. The first summons of the unseasonable visitor did not procure a response from within, and the man knocked again.

Though the vigilant sentinel did not recognize his cowardly enemy, he had no doubt it was he. The form was about the height of Dock, but appeared to be better dressed than when he had seen the ruffian. Who else should go to the house of the miser at that unseemly hour?

"Who's there?" called Mr. Fairfield, with his impatient whine, as he threw open one of the windows of his chamber.

"I've got lost, and I want some one to show me the way to Gloucester," replied the visitor, in a tone so different from the voice of Dock that Augustus did not recognize it, and began to fear that the villain was not within his reach, as he had confidently believed.

"Got lost—have you? Well, take the right hand road out by the school-'us," added the miser, not so sourly as most people would have spoken when roused from their sleep to direct a night traveller.

"There are two or three roads there, and I can't afford to go much out of my way. Come out and show me, and I'll pay you for your trouble."

This was quite enough for the miser, and he promised to come. The caller stepped out into the road, and Augustus crouched down under the lilac bushes to escape observation. In a few moments Mr. Fairfield appeared, muffled up in a ragged overcoat.

"Well, Squire Fairfield, what's the news?" demanded the visitor, when the old man joined him.

If the steward had any doubts before, he had none now. It was Dock Vincent beyond a peradventure, and his voice sounded as natural as on former occasions. It was plain that the bewildered traveller was a myth for the benefit of Mrs. Fairfield, who, being "women folks," and not understanding business, was not permitted to share the heavy secrets of her husband, especially on the present momentous occasion.

"There ain't nothin' at all for news," replied the old man, as he glanced at the house, as if to assure himself that his wife was not watching him.

"No news?" exclaimed Dock. "Hasn't Watson come done with the money yet?"

"No; nor that ain't the wust on't, nuther. I don't believe he will."

"O, yes, he will!" replied Dock, confidently. "I've got things fixed this time so that he can't help planking down the money. He'll be glad to pay it, I can tell you."

"What have you done with the gal, cap'n?"

"We've got her; and Watson never'll see her again unless he pays the money—that's so."

"But he won't pay it; and I ain't go'n' to git my share on't at all," whined the miser.

"Yes, you will; don't be alarmed, Squire Fairfield."

"They've sent a steamer off arter the vessel."

"Have they, though?"

"Yes, they have; and Gayles has gone in her."

"All right; the steamer'll cost some money, and won't do any good. She'll come back without the girl. My vessel isn't a great ways from New York, and when I say the word she'll start, whether I go in her or not. I tell you, Mr. Watson will be glad to pay the money before many days. He don't understand the matter yet. I'll come again in two or three days; and I reckon you'll have the money next time I come."

"Where are you stoppin' now?" asked Mr. Fairfield.

"Nowhere in these parts; but I'll be here in two or three days."

"But Watson won't pay that money, no more'n nothin' in the world."

"Yes, he will. He can't help doing it, if he wants his daughter again. Where's Levi now?"

"He's round here; but what am I go'n' to do for what you owe me, if Watson don't pay the money?" asked the old man, anxiously.

"I'll pay it all just as I agreed to do. Now go to bed again, Squire Fairfield, or your wife will be out looking for you."

"But I want to know sunthin more about this business."

"You mustn't know any more than you do. I didn't mean you should know anything about it. I never told you anything. When you get the money, you hold on to it till I come. I don't know as it's quite safe for me to come here again, even in the night. I guess we'll fix it some other way."

Dock did "fix it some other way"—it is of no consequence how.

"After I get this money, and get all ready to start, I'm going to settle up matters with Levi and that nigger before I go. I expect I shall kill that nigger if I ever see him again."

"Shall you? Then now's your time!" yelled Mr. C. Augustus Ebénier, as he sprang from his covert, and rushed upon his enemy.

Dock Vincent was startled, as a braver man than he might have been under such circumstances; but the steward did not permit him to recover his self-possession. With an oak stick he carried in his hand, he dealt a heavy blow upon the head of the villain. But his cranium seemed to be made of more solid material than his African assailant's, for he attempted to rise, when the steward repeated the stroke so effectually that he lay still on the ground.

"Don't! Don't!" pleaded Mr. Fairfield, terrified by the tragic event. "Don't tech him agin. Let him be."

But Dock was not deprived of his consciousness even by the severe blows he had received, and again he attempted to rise.

"Lay still! If you don't there'll be a dead man not far from here," said the steward, as he took his revolver from his pocket.

Dock saw it, and dared not move.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go now."

"Not if I know it! Allow me to insinuate, in the most direct manner possible, that this man is my prisoner; and if he don't spend the rest of his days in the state prison, it will be an outrage upon humanity," added the steward.

"Don't tech him no more. Let him go. I'll give you twenty-five cents if you will," whined the miser, who had to open his heart very wide to make this liberal offer.

"He is going to jail, if there is such an institution in these parts," replied Augustus.

"I'll give you fifty cents if you'll let him go," pleaded Mr. Fairfield.

"If you would give me fifty thousand dollars, I wouldn't let him go," replied the steward. "Do you think I would sell my own soul for money?"

Augustus, with the revolver in his right hand, felt in all the pockets of his prostrate enemy for dangerous weapons, but he found none.

"Now get up," said he.

Dock obeyed, in momentary fear that one of the pistol balls would be spinning through his head.

"Do you know where Mr. Watson's house is?" continued he.

"I do," replied Dock.

"Then march; and if you turn to the right or the left, or attempt any irregular proceeding, I promise you, on the honor of Mr. C. Augustus Ebénier, that I will give you the benefit of every bullet this pistol contains, six in number, by actual count. Forward!"

Dock marched in the direction indicated; he could not help doing so, bitter as the necessity was. Mr. Fairfield followed, begging and pleading with all his eloquence, and even offering as high as a dollar for the release of his friend.

"Old man, return to your humble abode, and give up your weary frame to the arms of Morpheus," said Augustus, when his patience was exhausted. "In other words, venerable sir, go home, and go to bed."

The miser was terribly stricken by the sudden misfortune of Dock; not from sympathy, but because it foreboded the loss of the money the prisoner owed him. It is possible that he had some fear of being compromised before the courts. If he had, it was overborne by the greater dread of losing his money. He could not willingly return; and it was only when the steward threatened him with the terrible pistol that he did so.

Augustus walked about six feet behind his victim till he came to Mr. Watson's house, and then directed him to go up to the side door.

"Ring the bell!" said the steward, in the stern tones of command.

"See here, steward, can't we arrange this thing," replied Dock, turning to his remorseless captor.

"Ring the bell! We'll arrange it in the court."

Dock rang the bell. Little did the father and mother of Bessie sleep while she was away from them, and they heard the bell the first time it was rung.

"Who's there?" called Mr. Watson from a second-story window.

"Augustus, sir," replied the steward, in the mildest of tones. "There's a gentleman here to see you, sir."

"I will be down in a moment;" and presently a light appeared in the dining-room.

"Walk in," said Mr. Watson, opening the door.

"Walk in!" repeated Augustus, in stern tones.

Dock followed the merchant into the dining-room, closely attended by his guard.

"Vincent!" exclaimed Mr. Watson, when he turned to see who his midnight visitor was.

"Yes, sir," replied the steward. "You will pardon me for bringing him here, sir; but I did not know what else to do with him."

"Vincent, where is my daughter?" demanded the merchant, earnestly.

"She is on her way to Australia," replied Dock, who was now beginning to recover his self-possession, and to measure the consequences of his misfortune.

"I beg to suggest, Mr. Watson, that his reply is a wretched falsehood," interposed the steward. "I heard him tell Mr. Fairfield that his vessel wasn't a great ways from New York."

"In the latitude of New York, I meant merely. Mr. Watson, this man is making a mess of it for you. I made my demand of you by letter. Give me the money, and your daughter shall be restored. If you don't, you will never see her again, whatever may happen to me," said Dock.

"Not a dollar! Not a penny!" replied Mr. Watson, with emphasis.

"Very well, Mr. Watson. You will discover your mistake soon enough," added Dock.

"We want an officer and a pair of handcuffs," said Mr. Watson. "Can you keep him while I procure assistance?"

"I can," answered Augustus, confidently, as he displayed his pistol.

Mr. Watson called his two men, and sent one of them for Constable Cooke, who was the only officer available at that hour of the night. He came, and the villain was ironed. The constable and the steward kept guard over him till morning.

CHAPTER XXIII.

OFF SANDY HOOK.

Levi did not learn that the great enemy had been captured till he went up in the morning to relieve the steward; but the news was spreading rapidly, and it came to his ear before he reached his station. He hastened to the house of Mr. Watson, where Constable Cooke and the steward still kept vigil over the fallen foe. The officer evidently did not relish his employment; but Mr. C. Augustus Ebénier had proved that he was a first-class tiger, as well as an exquisite of the first water.

Mr. Watson had another interview with the wretch as soon as Levi arrived; but Dock Vincent was as obstinate as a mule. He took no pains to conceal the fact that he enjoyed the distress of the suffering father and the intense anxiety of Levi. The prisoner was to be examined before Squire Saunders during the forenoon, and it was hoped that some development of the plan of the conspirator would be obtained.

By the morning train came Mr. Gayles. The steamer sent in pursuit of the Caribbee had returned to Boston in the night. Of course she had not seen or heard of the vessel, which had gone through Vineyard Sound, while the steamer followed the track of ships bound round the Cape of Good Hope.

"Has he been searched?" asked Mr. Gayles, when he had reported the result of his mission to his employer.

"No; I proposed it to Mr. Cooke, but he declined to do it until a warrant had been obtained," replied Mr. Watson.

"It should be done at once;" and Mr. Gayles hastened to attend to this important duty.

Dock blustered, and attempted to resist the indignity, as he termed it; but the constable was determined, and heeded not the prisoner's protest or his struggles. On his person was found a variety of papers, and among them the letter which Captain Gauley had written in the cabin of the Caribbee. But this document had no signature, and was hardly more satisfactory than the letter which Mr. Watson had received from Bessie; at least it contained no accurate information. One sentence, however, was sufficiently definite to make a beginning upon. "We are somewhere inside of Sandy Hook, ready to go to sea at a moment's notice," Captain Gauley wrote. "You know where to leave a letter in New York, when you are ready to go on board; and one of us goes up to the city every day now."

"It's no use," said Dock, maliciously. "You can't find the Caribbee. Mr. Watson, I may rot in jail; but you will never see your daughter again if you go on with this matter. If you want to get her back, pay me the money I ask, let me go, and you shall have her in a week."

"I will not pay you a dollar," replied Mr. Watson, firmly.

"All right," added Dock, with a sneer. "You will wish you had in the course of a year or two. I know what I'm about this time."

Mr. Watson, Mr. Gayles, and Levi went to another room to consider the situation, leaving Constable Cooke in charge of the prisoner.

"Cooke, do you want to make a hundred dollars easy?" said Dock, in a whisper.

"I don't know," replied the officer. "I can't compromise myself."

"You run no risk," added Dock, as he wrote with a pencil, on half a sheet of note paper, the letter which Captain Gauley received just before the Caribbee sailed. "Put this in an envelope, direct it to Captain John Gauley, care of E. G. Baines & Co., No. —— Maiden Lane, New York, and put it into the post office. That's all; and here is a hundred dollars."

Constable Cooke took the note and the money. Dock wrote the direction for the letter on a piece of paper. He thrust the whole into his pocket. He had his doubts, as well he might, about the propriety of mailing the letter.

Levi, from the information obtained, was satisfied that the Caribbee was at anchor in one of the secluded inlets below New York, waiting for Dock to join her. It was not likely that she would go to sea without her owner, whose family were on board of her.

"Dock says she will go to Australia, whether he joins her or not," said Mr. Gayles.

"She will not sail till those on board have heard from Dock. We must take care that he does not send any letter or message," added Levi.

"Perhaps it would be better to let him do so, if we could only stop the letter at the post office."

"But we don't know who has charge of the vessel. It is plain that he has a captain on board of her; but he does not sign his name to the letter we found upon Dock," interposed Mr. Watson.

"Don't let him send any letters," persisted Levi. "Then the Caribbee will stay where she is till we find her."

"That is the better way," replied Mr. Watson.

"Perhaps it is," said Mr. Gayles. "But it would do no harm to ask the postmaster to stop any letter to Mat Mogmore, for instance."

"Mat Mogmore did not take that vessel round to New York," added Levi. "There is a bigger man than he on board of her, and we don't know his name. We can't do anything in this way, unless we stop all the letters directed to the vicinity of New York."

"Doesn't this man's name appear in any of Dock's papers?"

"No; I have looked in vain for it."

"Mr. Watson," said Levi, suddenly springing to his feet, "I am sure I can find Bessie."

Both Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles looked at him with interest. He had done a similar work once before, and his confident expression was entitled to respect.

"I am as sure as I want to be that the Caribbee is anchored somewhere in New York Bay. Dock's letter says so. He sent her there, intending to join her as soon as he had collected his black mail. The facts and the theory agree with each other."

"Admit what you say," added Mr. Watson, "and there is no doubt of it. What shall we do?"

"I will go to New York in The Starry Flag. I can tell the Caribbee as far as I can see her, by night or by day. I will stand off and on by Sandy Hook, so that she cannot pass me. You and Mr. Gayles shall go to New York to-night, charter a small steamer, and explore all the inlets and bays below the city till you find her."

"She may escape before you get there," suggested Mr. Gayles.

"No; she will wait till she hears from Dock."

"It may get into the newspapers."

"We will see that it does not."

Various objections to Levi's plan were considered; but it was adopted without material alteration. Mr. Watson thought it would be better to charter a steamer in New York for Levi's use; but he preferred the yacht. She would be under his control, and at the critical moment would not be out of coal, or her machinery out of order.

Levi determined to sail as soon as the examination of Dock Vincent was finished. He engaged three extra hands, and put provisions and water enough on board to meet any emergency, in case the cruise should be unexpectedly prolonged. He was confident that his plan could not fail; and if Constable Cooke had not been unfit for a place of trust, probably it would not have failed, either in whole or in part.

Mr. Fairfield was arrested, and at ten o'clock both he and Dock were arraigned for examination. The old man was dreadfully alarmed. With the arrest of Dock his fondest hopes had gone out in darkness. Not only was the rich reward he had been promised forever lost, but his neighbor's note for ten thousand dollars was not worth the paper on which it was written. Though the conspirator did not yet believe that his plan had failed, the old man did.

Dock was held on a complaint of kidnapping Bessie Watson, and an attempt to extort money from her father. The evidence, including Dock's letter and the absence of Bessie, was more than enough to hold him, and he was committed for trial. The testimony was strong enough to hold Mr. Fairfield, and he also was committed; but Mr. Watson, out of consideration for the poor old man, procured bail for him. It was in vain he protested that he had nothing to do with the affair, and knew nothing about it. His midnight meeting with Dock Vincent condemned him.

The deputy sheriff bore Dock to the jail; for Mr. Gayles suggested that Constable Cooke's fingers were slippery, though he did not know that they had already been soiled by a bribe. Levi hastened on board of the yacht as soon as the case had been disposed of, where his crew had made every preparation for the intended cruise—how long it was to be they knew not then. The wind was blowing a smashing breeze when she sailed, and in forty hours she was off Sandy Hook. Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles arrived a day earlier, but did not deem it prudent to commence the search till the next day, fearful that the Caribbee might slip away before the yacht arrived; but they were not idle. They visited all the small ports in the vicinity; but Captain Gauley kept the vessel away from any harbor.

Constable Cooke could not settle his mind in regard to the letter in his pocket, and he kept it there till the day after the examination. Mr. Watson and Mr. Gayles had both neglected, and even snubbed him. They did not ask his advice; they did not employ him to assist in the search. They had gone off without him, and he saw no chance to make any money with the information in his possession. If Mr. Watson wanted Mr. Gayles to do his business for him, he might employ him. Mr. Cooke enclosed the pencilled note, directed it, and then mailed it in Gloucester.

Mr. Watson commenced his search in the steamer he had engaged for the purpose. He went a dozen miles up North River, examining every vessel in the stream, passed down the bay, through The Kills, up Newark Bay, through Staten Island Sound to Amboy, scoured Raritan Bay and River, without success, and thus used up the first day of the search. The next day—that on which Mat Mogmore went to the city and brought off the letter—she followed East River to Throg's Point; ran into Harlem River, Flushing Bay, and all the inlets, examining the Long Island shore as far as Rockaway, but with no better results than on the preceding day. Off Coney Island she spoke The Starry Flag. The captain of the steamer was confident that the Caribbee was not in the vicinity; it was more probable that she had come through the Sound, and put into Cow Bay, or some other waters beyond Throg's Point; and the steamer returned to the city, to renew the search on the third day.

Captain Gauley changed his anchorage every day or two. On the first day he had been behind Coney Island, but had moved over to a point south of Staten Island that evening, and thus, by accident, escaped discovery.

Mat brought the letter to him, and the Caribbee went to sea instantly; but it was only to encounter The Starry Flag, lying in wait for her. The quick eye of Levi immediately recognized her, and his orders to come about were given in sharp, quick tones. He was excited; Bessie was almost within hail of him; indeed, he saw her standing on deck, with Mrs. Vincent and the children. The wind was fresh, and the Caribbee had spread every inch of her canvas. Levi arranged his plan to cut her off while she was still nearly half a mile distant from him.