Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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r*lewis m.'Grist, Proprietor. An Jfnkpcitknt Jantil]j ^ttfosgagtr: Jor % Ijromotion of fjjc political, Social, Agricultural anh Commercial Interests of t(tf JSontji. |terms--$2.50 a year, in adyance. VOL. 33. YOEKVILLE, S. C.. "WEDNESDAY. OCTOEEB 5, 1887. NO. 4Q. ALL THE WORLD AT WAR. BY WALTER BESANT. CHAPTER V. FEMINA BURNS. For two days I sat at home or walked about the Holmbush fields brooding. The Dancing Polly was gone; she was the prise of the revenue people. They had not taken my little boat. I might, as of old, pnt out to sea and dream no longer of the futuro, but of the golden past, on the gentle bosom of the channel. And of course there was the Chace Mary, which was no good to me. Forty-eight hours' struggle through the depths of despair brought me to the goal of resignation which all women after such mental conflicts reach. Then I began to look about for some way of passing tho time. Tkasa A ens rind his wife would carry on the farm. The praluceof ^theJbrnj?Jt him, his wife and myself. That I soon argued out and represented to the old laborer, who was hard of comprehension, but managed to understand at length that ho was to be sole responsible manager for three years. This settled, I began to think about the very remarkable and rapid clearance of the cargo. Of course, it must have been Joshua whose stop I heard in the bay; it must have been Joshua come down to lend a hand; it must have been Joshua who cleared the hold; no one else could have done it. Where had he put the cargo? The arrest took place at 4 in the morning. When the revenue men came back' to look for their prize it must have been past 8. Four hours to move fifty or sixty kegs of brandy, each holding four gallons or so. For one man, single-handed, that is a heavy job. It would not be possible to carry the kegs very far. Now, wo had half a dozen places known only to ourselves, in which we could stow our merchandise. They were scattered about in the Undercliff. Some were a good half-mile from the bay, one or two quite close. Joshua, I thought, would take the nearest of all. This was a place lying quite close to the path from the bay to the farm. To reach it you scramble over a sloping ledge of loose stones, and you passed by what seemed to be a tangled heap of brambles. If you got to the back of the bushes you saw that they covered over a natural hollow, a sort of punch bowl, which made the most admirable cellar in the world, especially in summer when the leaves were thick. I went straight to the spot and pulled aside the branches. Below me, to my great joy I discovered the whole of the Dancing Polly's last run. Joshua had put it there?careiul J osnuai He had not ventured yet to sell any of it ?prudent Joshua! No doubt he would account to Dan on his return for his share of the money?righteous Joshua! Anyhow, whether Joshua did this thing with a view to his own interest only, or not, it was pluckily done, and well done. Womanlike, I had found a secret, and I rejoiced. Who could have laid the information? No one but ourselves?of whom Joshua was one?knew. Now, much as I dreaded the man for his violence and masterfulness, I never for one moment suspected Joshua of this villainy, i The day after I made this discovery, there came to Housdon bay the young fellow belonging to Capt. Pollard's company, of whom I have already spokenJohn Beer. He was a good natured lad, and had never ceased to regret the part he played in the case. He found me sitting in the porch looking sadly out to sea, and he sat down, kindly saying nothing for awhile. That was good of him. "What is it you want with me, John Beer?" "Nothing," he said. Then there was no need for me to say* anything, so I went on witn my meditations, which were gloomy enough. "The captain did say," lie presently went on. "he did say that I miclit coma over here and find out something' about the cargo, if I could; and he did say, too, that he hoped you wouldn't fret and grizzle, because there's more comes back than you'd think, and it is only for three years. Lord! what's three years to a chap? Next door to nothing?and good fun all the time knocking over the Frenchmen like ninepins." I made no reply. "About the cargo, Pleasance. It's a sad loss to us, is that brandy!" "Yes," I said; "I am very glad you haven't got it." "Of course you know where it is," he went on, with a meaning smile. "Everybody knows that you were in all the secrets. The captain he says that if you weren't the prettiest girl in all Dorsetshire he'd have put you in the dock alonga. n DIUD %JJL LUC ICOU "If I did know where it is," I said, "I should not tell you. Look for it and find It If you can. " "Who could have taken it? There was only one man who knew about the run? him as gave the information; because I heard him tell the captain so. But even he would not have dared, after giving that information." "Who was it gave the information?" I sprang to my feet, all trembling with excitement. "Who was it told you?" "That," said the man, "is a secret." "Tell me, John Beer, tell me. Oh, if I only knew!" "I wonder what you would give to know, Pleasance?" "How can I tell?" "It was a mean and sneaking thing to do," said the man. "I heard it accidentally. I was sentry on duty. The captain's window was open, and I listened. The captain and him, they think no one 1 knows. I was in the front of the house, where the flagstaff is; he come in from the back, so as no one should see. But i the window was open, and I both heard and seen him." "Tell me, John Beer, tell me! Oh, what can I give to make you tell me?" He reflected, with a straw in his mouth. "There was fifty kegs, if there was one," he murmured. "Take away the captain's share, it is a matter of three guineas a , head. If I had a couple of them kegs"? "You shall, John, you shall; I'll give them to you at once." i "And yet it's a risk. Suppose the captain was to find out?" "How can he find out?" "Why, girls talk wild. You'd be in a tairable rage, you would, Pleasance, if you only knew. It's the meanest, sneakingest thing ever done?that's what it is." "If you will only tell me, I will never let out to a single creature how I got to know. Tell me!" "Why, then, if it's all right about them two kegs, and you won't never let out who told you?and considering what a mean and sneaking thing it was to do? why, I don't mind telling you. It was 110 ?other?than?Joshua?Meech himself!'' I stared at him, incredulous. The thing was impossible. ujt was no?other?than?Joshua?Meech himself." "I tell you," repeated John Beer, "I seen him. It was the evening before and at 9 o'clock." Nine o'clock! Then he must have gone straight away to give the information after telling me that whatever happened I was to blame. "The window was open. Thp captain was reading by the light of a pair of candles. I heard steps at the back of the house crunching the gravel. Then I heard a knock at the captain's door. I looked in at the window, being so placed in the dark that I could do that without being seen. And I saw Joshua Meech himself open the door and walk in. Then I knew that there was misdhief brewing." "Pleasance!" he went on, after a pause, during which he gasped with indignation; "I knew that there was villainy. And I wish I'd have put my carbine at that open window and let him have the charge in his face, the scoundrel! " 'Capt. Pollard,' he says, looking more like a devil than a human man, let alone Dan Gulliver's nephew, 'I've come to lay information.' ".'Why!' cries the captain. 'Information from you, Joshua Meech? Dick Turpin will bo laying information next. Or perhaps Dan Gulliver.' come to..Jay. information, Kfcr, i * against Dan Gulliver.' " ? a 1?4. rv?< ?0 Tt7Un4 " " XOU.' jvguiusu i/au UU1U?C1( it uau is the meaning of this? Why, man, you are his partner! Yon are his nephew!' " 'I've come to lay information against Dan Gulliver,' repeated Joshua, with a white face. I was listening all the while, you may be sure. " 'What.does it mean? Have you quarreled?' "!That does not matter to you,' he replied, doggedly. 'I'm come with that information. Will you take it or will you refuse it? If you do I must go to the mayor and lay it befor him.' '"Joshua Meech,' said the captain, 'you are a villain! You are a black, foul villain! Whether this is treachery or revenge you are a double distilled scoundrel!' "Joshua Meech made no reply. "'I must take your information,'the captain went on. 'It is my duty to take it and act upon it. Most informers are poor starving devils whose necessities make them enact the port of the spy. You have not that excuse. You are bringing ruin upon your old uncle, the man by whom you have been befriended and enriched. It is revenge, I suppose, for some petty quarrel. But such devilish revenge I never heard of before. Go on with your tale, blackguard and villain!' "Ah, Pleasance, you all thought at the trial that the captain gloried in what he had done. Don't you believe that no more. Only he had to do it, you know? it was his duty. "Then Joshua Meech told how the run over was to be that very night, how the Dancing Polly was already gone, and how she would return the next night. "The captain took it all down. " 'Is that all?' he asked. " 'That is all,' said Joshua. ' " 'Then go. Do not breathe the air of this room with me! Great heavens!' ho crfecl, starting" toThis feet, 'that such o vrtllnln ciKamM Hwa tr* iKta 1 ?uiam cuuuiu utu iu wud v* England and call himself my fellow countryman! Go!' "There Pleasance; now you know all." Yes; .this was his revenge. This was his plan to prevent me from marrying Will. To make this impossible, or to defer it, he had the incredible baseness to sacrifice his uncle and his cousins. Was it possible, could any one have believed that a man could be so wicked? I sat all that day meditating revenge, thinking in what way I could most injure this man. One wild plan after another suggested itself to me. I would set fire to his mill. I would secretly destroy the trees in his orchard. I would put a stone in the wheels of his mill. I would go into the town and tell everybody. Nothing, however, satisfied me. Revenge never does satisfy. If his mill was burned, he would build it up again; but that would not give me back Dan, and the boys, and Will and the Dancing Polly. He could repair any mischief I could do hira. Even if I whispered it round in Lyme Regis that he was the informer, he would deny it, and I had no proof because John Beer was bound to silence. What then could I do? In the evening, still brooding over the revenge I was to take, I grew restless and walked over the fields to the mill itself. It was a bright night; the valleys which stretch away behind Lyme lay all bathed in a beautiful moonlight; everything was peaceful and quiet, except the heart of the girl who went along the lonely way. She met no one, she saw nothing; her soul was full of an inextinguishable craving for vengeance; she was like a tigress bereft of her cubs. The mill stood alone in its field, silent, and backed by the black depths of its shadows and the woods. The top of tho big wheel could be made out standing clear against the sky. Beneath it poured the waters of the leat, which in the daytime worked the wheel. I stolo like a shadow through the orchard; on the other side, away from the mill, was a linney, or penthouse, where Joshua's wagon was kept. I sat down on tho broad wheel of the wagon, trving to put my disordered thoughts into some sort of shape. I hungered for revenge; I longed to make him suffer. I had come here to feel near to the man on whom I was going to work revenge. He was on the other side of the wall, I thought. He was chuckling, no doubt, over the end of my love story?laughing to think that my lover was serving before the mast on one of his majesty's ships for three long years. Oh, villain! It was something to be near him, to feel that one could even kill him if one had the strength?that alone was wanting; to think that close to hin*one could execute whatever the mind could conceive. Presently, as I listened, I Jieard voices. Some one was with him then. I crept from the penthouse and steppe' lightly over the narrow flower bed which stood beneath the window. The shutter was closed, but one knew what sort of a shutter would be that of Joshua's cottage at the mill. In fact, it was not even barred, and there was a hole in it, through which I saw what was going on. The visitor was our old friend Mr. Mallock, justice of the peace, and he was talking in his magisterial way. "Quite a providence, Joshua"?he wagged his head till his purple cheeks shook and wabbled?"that you were able to rescue the cargo. Quite a providence. At one time I thought I should be able to dismiss the charge, but it was impossible. Poor old Dan! Poor boys! Who was the villain that informed?" "I wish we knew, sir." "I wish we did, with all my heart. He would get a warm reception at Lyme, I promise him so much. However?three years?it is a long time. You mey send me, Joshua, at the old price?ah!?twenty kegs?yes, I think I had better secure what I can get. Twenty kegs. Dear me! They can come to-morrow morning in flour sacks. I will pay for them now." There was a great counting out of money 011 the table. When Joshua was satisfied that it was all right, he put it up in a little bag, and promised to bring the brandy next morning. Then the worthy justice of the peace retired. I slipped back to my place of concealment, while Joshua accompanied his visitor to the door, with many expressions of multitude for his custom and his con dolences. "You are very welcome, Joshua, very welc.ome," said his worship; "and as for that villain" He disappeared in the darkness, still muttering what he would do, had he the power, to the scoundrel who spoiled an honest man's trade. Joshua went back, and I heard him bar the door, so that I knew he would havo no other visitors. Then I returned to my place and watched him again through the hole of the shutter. He was rather pale, and his hand was shaking. No doubt he was thinking of his villainy. He went to the cupboard in the wall and drew out a bottle, containing, I knew well, some of poor Dan Gulliver's best. I wished I could dash the bottle in his face as he drank from a wine glass. Tho brandy cave him courage, I sup pose, for lie Tooted round liira with n more assured air. What he was saying to himself, I believe, was that no one knew except Capt. Pollard, and he certainly could not tell. Nobody knew! Why, within a short six feet of where he stood was the girl he had so foully wronged burning to be avenged. He tied the bag of money which Mr. Mallock had left with him tightly, and taking a short, thick poker which stood beside the andirons, he pried up the hearthstone. There he deposited the bag and replaced the stone carefully, taking the precaution to sweep ashes over the edges so as to conceal the fact of its recent removal. Wc all used the hearthstone for our bank and we all went through the same formality of trying to hide the fact. This done, ho looked around him again and sighed?with another thought of his villainy, I suppose?and seized the stone bottle which held the brandy. One, two, three glasses in succession of raw spirit. Was this his nightly custom or was he seeking to drown remorse? Then he took tho candle, opened the door which stood at the bottom of the stairs and stumbled up to his bedroom. It seemed to me that Joshua was likely to sleep heavily alter all that brandy. " \ waited Jaelowy motion!es3, until thelight was extinguished. Then I began cautiously to see if I could open the window. The Bhutter was not secured, as I said before. The window was upon hinges and opened inward. It was a heavy window, consisting of small squaro panes of thick glass set in lead. I lifted the latch which fastened it by means of a small twig. The window fell open; I waited for a moment to sec if Joshua was roused and then I climbed into the room. What I was going to do was simply to rob Joshua. That was part of my revenge. Not to get any advantage out of the money for myself at all, but just to deprive him of it. It was nothing to me being without a light in the room. I knew exactly whero everything was. I first bolted the door of the staircase. That would secure me plenty of time for escape, should Joshua be roused. Then I took the poker and prised up the hearthstone cautiously. Feeling in the dark, I discovered one, two, three?eight bags, all tied up, and all containing money. Now I was quite certain, when I laid my hands upon those bags, that I was not only going to take some of Joshua's money, but all of it. He kept his whole store?all his savings? in that hiding place. I ought, at this length of time, to feel ashamed at the baseness of my revenge?but I cannot. The wrong was bo bitter, the villainy was so unutterable, that I have only to think of my own feelings that night, and I justify myself at once. It was delightful to me to feel that I was taking the whole of his money. I hoped that its loss would ruin him. When the bags were all out, I carefully put back the hearthstone. Eight bags?there were no more. I laid them altogether on the table, felt in tho drawer for the ball of string which the practical mind of Joshua made him always keep there, and tied them all together, and attached about three yards of string by which to hang them in their place. "U??? V.aAm n ?aa/1 enm jliiero muat navu uucu <v gw\i om.^ v*. money in the whole, because the bags were pretty heavy to carry. I dropped them cautiously out of window, crept outside myself and carried away the bags. The great undershot wheel of the mill occupied, as we know already, one end of the building which formed both mill and cottage. It stood there under a broad, sloping penthouse of heavy thatch which made it dark in the brightest day. Once, long before, when the wheel was stopped for some repairs, I held it in its place by a wooden spoke and amused myself by climbing to the top under this projecting roof. It was a girl's trick, and rather a dangerous one. I got no good, not even the nest which I expected to And; but I saw hidden away in the darkness a great hook stuck in the wall. "What it was originally placed there for I do not know, but it was so high up, so hidden by the wheel and the black shadows of the roof, that it was quite invisible from below. That was the place for my bags First I succeeded by tying a spoke of the wheel to one of the beams in the wood work in keeping the wheel, over which the water was no longer running, motionless .while I climbed up. Then I mounted the wheel, which was now like a ladder, and clambered up three or four of the undershot buckets till I could reach the wall close under the roof. Here I felt about in the darkness till I found the hook, and then tying the end of the string securely to it I lowered the bags slowly into the black water beneath. I heard above the noise of the falling water the splash of the bags, I felt them touch the bottom, and then with a great gladness in my heart, thinking of Joshua's rage when he should find out his loss, I cautiously descended from the perilous perch, untied the spoke and considered what to do next. The first temptation?a childish one? was to hurl stones at his l)edroom window, so as to awaken him and bring him down, but I abandoned that idea, as another and a more brilliant one occurred to me. Joshua had sold twenty kegs out of the cargo to Mr. MaDock, the justice of the peace. No doubt he had arranged, or was arranging, for the sale of all the rest. No doubt, too, ho intended adding the proceeds of tills transaction to the pile?aha! the pile beneath the hearthstone. I set off to run ahnoist the whole of the way back to Rousdon, under the impulse of this new idea, which filled my mind. It was about 11 o'clock, as I should judge. It took me nearly an lour before I got to Rousdon farm. I had business to do, and there would be no thought of bed for me that night. But first I went into the house, found some supper, and procured certain handy tools necessary for my purpose. Had I time to do ft? It had taken nearly four hours to remove. the cargo of the Dancing Polly from the boat to the hiding place; could I do what I proposed in six? I would try. There certainly was no stronger girl than myself along the whole shore. The life I had led in the opesi air?the rowing, sailing and fishing; tho gardening, 'the rambles and climbs among the crags of the Holmbusli fields and Pinhay point; the sea bathing, tho generous but simple diet ?all these, added to a physique to which dame nature had been generous, made me active and muscular above tho average even of young women living like myself. Yet it was a heavy task which I proposed to effect. It was nothing less than to carry every single keg down to the sea shore, turn out tho contents, fill them with sea water and carry them back agaiu. Fifty kegs at least. Two hundred journeys up and down that steep cliff, each time with a weighty burden. But the thought of Joshua's consternation* whan he should discover it gave me courage. "When I had got all but six or seven down the cliff another thought struck me. There were the two kegs for my informant, John Beer. It would not bo fair to give him sea water, after the service he had done. There was also tho poor old rector. What would he do without his brandy? and unless I provided for him, he would get none till Dan and the boys came home again. So I removed tho last six, and carried them away to a place where I was pretty certain Joshua would not think of looking for them. And then I proceeded to the next part of my task. The kegs were now all in a row upon the beach, tying 011 their sides. I went from one to tine other, and 'with my hammer and chisel forced out the bung from every one. In a few minutes the smooth water of the little bay tfas salt water brandy grog, rather weak, aucd the kegs were empty. To till them again quickly wns more difficult. I had to take oil shoes and stockings, tuck up skirts, and wade in the water, carrying each keg sep; irately. It was now growing late. I mus t have been at work five hours, and yet the kegs had all to be carried back. Well, it was done at length. The day was breaking as the last keg was laid in its place, and the brambles pulled together to hide them. The tide had came up in the bay, and washed away all the traces of the brandy which had been spilt so freely on the stones. I .sat down and tried to think soberly what I had done. A villain was punished; the meanest, most treacherous, most cold blooded Bcoundrelism ever perpetrated had received some sort of a lit reward. In a few days, perhaps in a few hours, the traitor would find his hearthstone prised up, and his treasure gone. A few hours more, and lie would discover that his prizo from Dan's unlucky run was not worth the kegs which contained it. And yet I was unsatisfied. All this would not nivo me back my lover, nor bring homo Dan and" the boys, nor undo the misery of the past three weeks. I thirsted for more revenge. When I rose to go home the splendid sun was rising over the waters of the channel, and the morning was clear and ' bright. Far off on the horizon I saw the sails of a great fleet. It must bo Nelson's fleet. Among the ships somewhere were those I loved, going away to sea to face tw.tt.le_ sodden death. shiDwreck. plague ftii<l pestilence, all by the act of one man. I lay at homo all that morning asleep. At 12 o'clock Mrs. Agus, surprised at my long sleep, awakened mo and brought me some dinner. Then I began to think again. In the afternoon arrived my exciseman. "Have you done anything to Joshua Meech, Pleasance?" he asked, in a breathless way, so that I knew ho must have heard something. "Done anything?" "Ay. Joshua's been robbed?he's been robbed of all his money. He's been tearing round town all day. Ho! ho! I hope the information money was with it, too. Who could have robbed him?" "Who could?" I echoed. "It must have been some one who had a spite against him. Who but you had o spite? Oh! Pleasance, Pleasance! it's a hanging matter!" "Don't talk wild," I replied. "If Joshua is robbed, so much the better. I am glad of it." John Beer shook his head. He was only half satisfied. "To be sure," he said, "I've seen gypsies about. You know best. Well, and how about the kegs, Pleasance?" "I will give you the kegs at once if you will do me another favor. Nay, it is not to tell me more about Joshua; I know quite enough. It is only to carry some brandy to Parson Burden's." "Why, I'll do that," he said, briskly, "and more, for your sake." He took the. wheelbarrow and very soon was trundling my present, which I had resolved to say was Dan's, to the good old rector. On the way he mentioned casually that a press gang was in the neighborhood. "They don't know it, the boys at Lyme, else they'd keep at home for a day or two. There'll be a good few sailors more aboar< I his majesty'8 ships when that gang has done its business." I thought nothing at the time. But later on I started, remembering that Joshua had promised to deliver twenty kegs that morning, and that at daybreak ho would be at the hiding place. Another thought struck me. I had no doubt, knowing the nature of the business, and the haste made after a run to get the cargo safely stowed away and disposed of, that Joshua intended to take it all in two loads, probably one that morning and one the next. This knowledge put a fatal power into my hands. I turned the thought over in my mind till it became a resolution, clear and determined. Since Joshua had sent Dau and all of them away to sea, he should go too. Of course they could not take a miller from his mill?no. But suppose Joshua was caught, in boatman's rig, handling his kegs in Rousdon bay I When John Beer had taken the rector his brandy, and carried off his own to some secure place which ho knew of, probably to a friend in the town, a burning desire came over me to see Joshua Meech face to face and to triumph over his misfortunes. Tired as I was with my long night's work, I hastened to put on my hat and set off once more for my three mile walk across the fields. I cannot pretend to anything but a feverish joy that so far my weary head suffered. I knew how mean and parsimonious he was, how ho pinched and saved, denying himself luxuries and living hardly, in order to feel richer every day. I was quite certain that his chief pleasure was to open his hiding place secretly and count his treasures. I rejoiced to think how, in these moments, there was mixed up a feeling that he was saving up for me, and how that memory would be an additional stab for him. For me? Was it possible, even without his superhuman wickedness, for me to look upon another man after my glorious Will? So lie had already found out his loss. That was strange. Did he, then, look in the morning to see if it was safe? But perhaps the open window and the hanging shutter awakened his suspicions. I should soon know. As I drew near the mill, and looked down upon it from the top of the steep lane leading from the high road, I could not help feeling the contrast between the beauty of the place and the angry passions of its master and the girl who was going to visit him. But I had to hide my indignation. I composed my features as well as I could, and crossed his orchard. Joshua was sitting on the bench outside the mill. The wheel was slowly going round and round, with its monotonous sound, und the mill was at work. But its master sat motionless, his head on his hands. He was trying to think who could have robbed him. "Joshua!" I cried; "Joshua! What is the matter? Arc you asleep?" "I wish I was!" he replied, hoarsely. "I think I shull never be uble to sleep again. What do you want, Pleasance?" "I came to tell you, Joshua, that I saw the fleet pass along the horizon this morning. It must be Nelson's. Dan and the rest must be aboard one of the ships." "Ay, ay; no doubt. Well, they?they? they will get through it, I daresay." "Oh, Joshua, what a villain must ho bo who informed against them! What could we do to that villain to punish him properly? Tell me, Joshua." "Do?do? What could we do? Put him in the duekpond, I suppose," he replied wearily. "That would not be half enough, Joshua. I should like to take away all his money" ?he started?"and to tell all the world, and send him away forever with the curves of the people." "Ay," he said, "never mind the informer, Pleasance; listen to me. I've been robbed!" "You, Joshua? You robbed?" "I've been robbed of every farthing I had. All in gold?all tied up in bags?all the money I've been saving for years." "All the money you saved to marry me with?" "It is all gone." "Then you can't marry me, which will be removing a temptation, Joshua. But who could have done it?" "I don't know; I can't think. Go away, Pleusance, and let me think by myself." "is tnerc anyone wuo is ac eumiry wun you, Josliua?" He shook his head. "Any one whom you have wronged, Joshua?" A flush crossed his face. "Go, child, you can do nothing. Leave me alone." "Joshua," I said, retreating, "you nro a Mcthody. Remember what you said to me, 'Patience, and kiss the rod.1" I found next morning, on investigating the cache, that twenty kegs of salt water had been taken out, no doubt at daybreak. ' 1 rode to Lyme, souebt nut John Beer, and revealed my new plot. Ho at once fell in with it. The press gang was in hiding somewhere at Up Lyme. Four of them would be enough to effect the capture. He would tell them where to go, and what they were to expect?a deter mined man, who would fight for his lib| crty, but a good sailor. They were to lie concealed among the' rocks, just under the hiding place of the cargo. They were to wait until they heard their victim climbing down the zigzag road, nnd then they were to effect the seizure. Above all, they were to take care not to let him be seen in Lyme, Up Lime, Bridport, or any of the places round, where he might be known. | Now this seemed to mo a really spendid ^ piece of revenge. The other things were verjr well in their way, "but incomplete. Joshua was, no doubt, mad with rage at being robbed of his money, but he would _ recover in time. Also, he would be en- ragigd beyond expression at losing his brandy. Still he would recover from that bloif. But how would he recover from theihlow of being pressed and sent to sea? s AH that night I did not sleep. I heard i tl toward daybreak the footsteps of the press v gang as they crept down the road to the bay. And then I went out in the dark to 8 see for myself what would happen. d About 4 o'clock I heard the noise of o Joanna's wagon wheels, and then l?i u was sitting among the rocks, wondering t when the last act of my revenge would be a completed?I saw his figure in the moon- ^ light as he strode down the rough way, with the certain tread of one who knew q the path and had trodden it hundreds of ^ times. His face was shaded by his hat, ? and I could not see that. f He went straight to the place where his 1 treasure lay, and roughly pulling away s the; brambles he began to take out the fi kegs. Apparently, from his composure, s he had not yet learned from the worthy I justice the nature of the new misfortune. I As he began work I heard other foot- p ste$e. /they were those of the four sail- j > ?^^j^ ^em, but hfi^d. Jipt?betog 8 intent upon the job?come cautiously out ^ of the shade of the rock. There was not much to climb?about twenty feet?and , they took it, having Joshua well In sight, with a rush and a shout. J . Joshua sprang to his feet and turned F upon his assailants. They carried cut- t lasses, but these were not drawn, and each \ had a stout short cudgel in his hand. Joshua fought like a madman. One after c the other he hurled his assailants from e him. He was a splendidly strong man. t But the others came like bulldogs; they c had now caught hold, and they would not j let go. When it was all over, he stood _ with bleeding face and. head and arms pinioned close to his sides. He could make no more resistance. ? He could make no more resistance. 1 "Now, mate," said one of the men, "you I come quiet, or we'll make you that quiet ? as you'll never want to sing no morel" \ All the rest growled acquiesence. They > had had enough of fighting for that bout, j "But what's all this?" The leader g pointed to the kegs, three or four of which Joshua had already brought out and laid . upon the grass. "Brandy," said Joshua. The men looked at one another. . * "A gimlet," said the pinioned Joshua, ' "is in my pocket." One of them drew < out the gimlet and bored a hole. Joshua ^ shook his head cheerfully. No doubt they would all get drunk, and he would I escape. i "Never a pannikin be there, mate?" j the man asked his prisoner. 1 Joshua shook his head. ( Then I laughed to myself; for the man , who bored the hole lifted the keg and poured what he thought was brandy into . his open mouth. "Faugh?waugh?pr?rt!" ( "What's the matter?" "It isn't brandy at all! Faugh? 1 wangh! It's sea water!" ' "It is brandy," said Joshua. i "Drink it yourself, then." ] He lifted the keg. Joshua drank. He, too, behaved in the same surprising 1 manner. g "It was brandy three weeks ago," said j Joshua, despairing. Then lie sat down, saying no more, while the men tried the other kegs with j the same result. They all contained sea ' water. ' "Got any more, mate?" asked one of * them, looking around. < "There's a dozen more behind that I blacklterry bush," said Joshua with tho 1 calmness of complete despair. ( They searched; they lugged them all ) out; they bored the gimlet into every one. , "NV>t. mip siritrlfi dron of brandv in anv. I ; "This here," suiil one, "is a most aniaz- J ing go! "What was you agoing to do with they kegs, mate!'" "Sell them," said Joshua. "Was you agoing to sell them for ' brandy, or was you agoing to sell them 1 for bilge water?" "They were full of brandy three weeks < ago," repeated Joshua. "That is all I < know." ' They looked at each other in amaze- j ment. Then the leader gavo the word as | if nothing unusual had happened: , "Fall in, men. March!" Just then I stepped from my hiding place?the daylight was pretty clear then , ?and ran up over the rocks so as to meet them higher up on the road. That looked ' as if I might have been awakened by tho ' noise of tho fight and came out to see what it was. i "Pleasance," cried Joshua, "this is lucky. I Tell these men?it is a press gang?they I have pressed me?me?a simple miller and < not a sailor at all?tell them they have no | right" < "Oh, Joshua, Joshua," I said, "this is j very sad. Won't you let him go, gentle- . men? This is a dreadful misfortune. And , all the brandy spilled? Dear me! Oh, do let him go. He is not a regular sailor; ' indeed, gentlemen, indeed he is not, though he is so handy aboard that he will surprise you. Do let him go?do. He knows every inch of the French' coast, but you j must not press him. He is the best boatman from Lyme to Weymouth, though he i is a miller. Oh, he is much too good a ( sailor to b<* pressed. Do let him co." "Let him go?" cried the boatswain, , with an oath. "If I let him go, I wish I may be smothered in a French prison!" "Oh, Joshua, Joshua!" I cried, as they dragged him away pinioned and power- j less. "Dispensations 1 Grievous dispen- i sationsl Let us kiss the rod!" [TO UK CONTINUED.] Henry Ward Beecher's Sayings.?The Literary News offered prizes for the best approved quotations from the writings of Henry 1 Ward Beecher. Seventy-three lists ' were sent in, and the following six . selections received the highest num-!1 Der ui vines, viz,. Of all the battles there are none 1 like the unrecorded battles of the ' soul. Flowers are the sweetest things 1 that God ever made and forgot to put a soul into. If a man is fit to go higher, he will |1 show it by being faithful where .ie is. j Books outlive empires. They fly ; without wings, walk without feet; j houses of supply are they that with- i out money or price feed men suffer- 1 ing from soul hunger, loaves that in- ; crease as they are broken, and after i feeding thousands are ready for; thousands more. He who is false to present duty i breaks a thread in the loom, and I will find the flaw when he may have I forgotten the cause. God did not make men perfect. He made them pilgrims after perfection. _ 8ST Only a mother knows the varied discipline of hopes and fears and sorrows through which a mother passes to glory; for this is the mother's pathway and she rarely walks on a higher road, or one that may lead to perfection. pisculancous Reading. !' SOME EARLY AMERICAN' PIRATES. First of all upon the list of pirates tands the bold Capt. Avary, one of he institutions of marooning. Him re see but dimly half hidden by the lamouring mists of legend and traition. Others who came afterward utstripped him far enough in their oings, but he stands pre-eminent as he first cf the marooners of whom ctual history has been handed down o us of the present day. When the English, Dutch and ipanish entered into an alliance to uppress buccaneering in the West ndies, certain worthies of Bristol, t n Old England, fitted out two vesels to assist in the laudable project, ur doubtless Bristol trade suffered martly from the Morgans and the j'OIonoises of that old time, says loward Pyle in the September Harder. One of these vessels was named Juke, of which a certain Capt. Gibon waa the com/Bander and A vary he mate. Away they sailed to the West Inlies, and there Avary became imiressed by the advantages offered by >iracy, and by the amount of good hings that were to be gained by ery little striving. One night the captain (who was me of those fellows mightily addictid to punch) instead of going ashore o saturate himself with rum at the rdinary, had to drink in his cahin n private. While he lay snoring ,way the effects of his rum in the abin, Avary and a few other conpirators heaved the anchor very eisurely and sailed out of the harbor if Corunna and through the midst if the allied fleet riding at anchor in he darkness. By-and-by, when the morning ame, the captain was awakened by he pitching and tossing of the vesel, the rattle and clatter of the tacke overhead, and the noise of l'ootteps passing and repassing hither tnd thither across the deck. "What's the matter?" bawls the aptain from his berth. "Nothing," says Avary, coolly. "Something's the matter with the ihip," says the captain. "DoeS she irive ? What weather is it ?" "Oh, no," says Avary; "we are at ;ea." "At sea?" "Come, come!" says Avary ; "I'll eil you; you must know that I'm t- " ' lUft aViin nmir nnrl xrnii lit! V^UpiUlIJ Ul IIIC Sili^ nuiTj uuu juu nust be packing from this here cabin. ] We are bound to Madagascar, to : nake all our fortunes, and if you're ' i mind to ship for the cruise, why, < ve'H be glad to have you, if you i will be sober and mind your own >usi ness; i f not, thereis a boat alonglide and I'll have you set ashore." The poor half-tipsy captain had no elish to goa-pirating under the comnand of this backsliding mate, so >ut of the ship he bundled, and away te rowed with four or five of the :rew, who, like him, refused to join with their jolly shipmates. The rest of them sailed away to he East Indies. On his way Avary ficked up a couple of like kind with limself?two sloops off Madagascar. With these he sailed away to the :oast of India, and for a time his tame was lost in the obscurity of un:ertain history. Butonly fora time, "or suddenly it flamed out in a blaze )f glory. It was reported that a vessel beonging to the great mogul, laden witn treasure and bringing the monirch's own daughter upon a holy pilgrimage to Mecca (they belonged ;o the Mohammedans), had fallen in with the pirates and after a short resistance had been surrendered, with :he damsel, her court and all the iiamonds, pearls, silks, silver and ?old aboard. It was rumored that :he great mogul, raging at the insult iffered to him through his own flesh ind blood, had threatened to wipe jut of existence the few English setdements scattered along the coast, svhereat the honorable East India Company was in a pretty state of fuss and feathers. Rumor, growing with the telling, has it that Avary is going to marry the Indian princess, willy-nilly, and will turn rajah and eschew piracy as indecent. As for the treasure itself, there was no end to the extent to which it grew as it passed from mouth to mouth. Cracking the nut of romance and exaggeration, we come to the kernel ef the story?that Avary did fall in with an Indian vessel laden with ?reat treasure and possibly, with the mogul's daughter, which he captured and thereby gained a vast prize. Having concluded that he had earned enough money by the trade he had undertaken, he determined to retire and live decently the rest of his life upon what he already had. As a step toward this object, he set ibout cheating his Madagascar partners out of their share of what had been gained. He persuaded them to store all the treasure in his vessel, it being the largest of the three; and so having it safely in hand, he altered the course of his ship one fine night, and when the morning came the Madagascar sloops found themselves floating upon a wide ocean without a farthing of the treasure for which they fought so hard, and for which they might whistle for all the good it would do them. At first Avary had a great part of a mind to settle at Boston, in Massachusetts,'and had that little town been one whit less bleak and forbidding, it might have had the honor of being the home of this famous man. As it was, he did not like the looks of it, so he sailed away to the eastward, to Ireland, where he settled himself at Biddeford, in hopes of an easy life of it for the rest of his days. Here he found himself the possessor of a plentiful stock of jewels, such as pearls, diamonds, rubies, etc., but with hardly a score of honest farthings to jingle in his pocket. He consulted with a certain merchant of Bristol concerning the disposal of the stones?a fellow not much more cleanly in his habits of honesty tharl Avary himself. This worthy undertook to act as Avary's broker. Off he marched with the jewels, and that was the last that the pirate saw of his Indian treasure. In "Blackbeard" we have a real, ranting, raging, roaring pirate per se?one who really did bury treasure, who made more than one captain walk the plank, and who committed more private murders than he could '? ? - / I iL 1 3 number on ine ringers 01 uoin nanus; one who fills, and will continue to fill, the place to which he has been assigned for generations, and who may be depended upon to hold his place in the confidence of others for generations to come. Captain Teach was a Bristol born man, and learned his trade on board of sundry privateers in the East Indies during the old French warthat of 1702?and a better apprenticeship could no man serve. At last, somewhere about the latter part of the year 1716, a privateering captain?Benjamin Horjjigold?raised him from the rank's and put him in command of a sloop?a lately captured prize?and Blackbeard's fortune was made. It was a very slight step, and but the chango of a few etters to convert "privateer," into 'pirate," and it was a very short ime before Teach made that change, tfotonly did he make it himself, but le persuaded his old captain to join vith him. And now fairly began that series of >old and lawless depredations which rnve made his name so justly famous, tnd which placed him amongst the rery greatest of marooning freeboot;rs. "Our hero," says the old historian ,vho sings of the arms and bravery of his great man?"Our hero assumed .lie cognomen 01 uiacKuearu, irum hat large quantity of hair which, ike a frightful meteor, covered his vhole face, and frightened America nore than any comet that appeared here in a long time. He was accusomed to twist it with ribbons into imall tails, after the manner of our [tamilies wig, and turn them about lis ears. In time of action he wore i sling over his shoulders, with three iraces of pistols hanging in holsters ike bandoleers ; he stuck lighted Hatches under his hat, .which, apaearing on each side of his face, and lis eyes naturally looking fierce and wild, made him altogether such a igure that imagination cannot form in idea of a Fury from hell to look nore frigtful." The night before the day of the iction in which he was killed, he sat irinking with some congenial company until broad daylight. One of them asked him if his poor young wife knew where his treasure was Hidden. "No," says Blackbeard; 'nobody but the devil and I knows where it is, and the longest liver shall have all." For a time Blackbeard worked at tiis trade down on the Spanish Main, gathering, in the few years he was there, a very neat little fortune in the booty captured from sundry vessels; but by-and-by he took it into his head to trv his luck along the ioast of the Carolines; so off he sail3d to the northward with quite a respectable little fleet, consisting of his )\vn vessel and two captured sloops, From that time he was actively engaged in the making of American history in his small way. He first appeared off the bar at Charleston harbor, to the no small sxcitement of the worthy town ol that ilk, and there he lay for fl<re or six days, blockading the port and stopping incoming and outgoing vessels at his pleasure, so that, for the time, the commerce of the province was entirely paralyzed. All the vessels so stopped he held as prizes, and all the crews and passengers (among the latter of whom was more than one provincial worthy of the day) he retained as though they were prisoners of war. And it was a mightily awkward thing for the good folks of Charleston to behold, day after day, a black flagwith its white skull and crossbones fluttering at the fore of the pirate captain's craft, over across the level stretch of green salt-marshes and it was mightily unpleasant, too to know that this or that prominenl citizen was crowded down with the other prisoners under the hatches. Becoming tired of an inactive life Blackbeard afterward resumed hif piratical career. He cruised arounc in the rivers and inlets and sounds of North Carolina for a while, ruling the roost, and with never a one t< say him nay, until there was n( bearing with such a pest any longer So they sent a deputation up to th< governor of Virginia asking if he would be pleased to help them ir their trouble. There were two men of war lyinj at Ivicquetan, in the Jpmes river, a the time. To them the governor o Virginia applied, and plucky Lieu tenant Maynard, of the Pearl, was sent to Ocracoke Inlet to fight this pirate who ruled it down there s< like the cock of a walk. There h< found Blackbeard waiting for him ? - xl IS as reaay ior a ngni as ever ine neu tanant himself could be. Figh they did, and while it lasted it wai as pretty a piece of business of it kind as one could wish to see. Black beard drained a glass of grog, wish ing the lieutenant luck in gettinj aboard of him, fired a broadside blew some twenty of the lieutenant': men out of existence, and totally crippled one of his little sloops foi the balance of the fight. After that and under cover of the smoke, th( pirate and his men boarded the othe: sloop, and then followed a fine old fashioned haud-to-hand conflict be twixt them and the lieutenant First they fired their pistols, anc then they took to it with cutlassesright, left, up and down, cut anc slash?until the lieutenant's cutlasj broke short off at the hilt. Thei Blackboard would haye finished hin off handsomely, only up steps one o the lieutenant's men and fetches hin a great slash over the neck, so tha the lieutenant came off with no mor< than a cut across the knuckles. At the very first discharge of thei pistols Blackbeard had been sho through the body, but he was no for giving up for that?not he. A: said before, he was of the true roar ing, raging breed of pirates, and stooc up to it until he received twenty more cutlass cuts and five additiona shots, and then he fell dead whil< trying to fire off an empty pistol After that the lieutenant cutoffth* pirate's head and sailed away ii triumph, with the bloody trophj nailed to the bow of his batterec sloop. ABUSING WASHINGTON. Gen. Washington was probably a much abused as any president wh< i_.l ..(..'nrnun..,,*!,,. nas ever acieu na me emei cacvuuvi of the United States. At one timi he said that he had been abuset worse thau a common pickpocket and he was charged with all sorts o crimes during his administration says the Cleveland Leader. Th< Philadelphia Aurora was, perhaps the most bitter. When Washingtoi left the presidency it had a jubilan article over the close ot his term, ii which it said: "If ever there was a period of re joicirig this is the moment. Ever: heart in unison with the freedom am happiness of the people ought to bea high with exultation thattne name o Washington this day ceased to giv< a currency to political iniquity am to legalized corruption. A new eri is now opening upon us?an eri which promises much to the people for public measures must now stanc upon their own merits, and nefariou projects can no longer be supportet by a name. It is a subject of th< greatest astonishment that a singli individual should have carried hi; designs against the public liberty s< far as to have put in jeopardy it very existence. Such, however, ar. the facts, and with these staring u; in the face, this day ought to be i jubilee in the United States." John Randolph, of Roanoke, at i dinner, once proposed the toast "George Washington; may he bi d?d." This, however, was to< strong for the company, wno wen enemies of Washington, and he hac to add the proviso, "if he signs Jay'i treaty," before they would drinl to it. In 1795 "A Calm Observer in th< New York Journal accused Washing ton of being a thief. He stated that he had overdrawn his accounts and that he owed the treasury $1,037. Another writer accused Washington of hypocrisy and declared that he wanted to be a king. A third criticised his carriage and his aristocracy, and, iif fact, all the opposition newspapers denounced him in unmeasured terms. Congress went against him during his second term and refused to celebrate his birthday, though they had been accustomed to do so, and when he refused to return for a third term they charged that he did so because he feared that he could not be elected. Tf hp surnriflincr tn thfi neonle to-day to^now that Washington was once charged with murder. It was during one of his presidential campaigns. The Philadelphia Aurora made the charge. It stated that Washington had during one of the battles of his early life, shot an officer who was bearing a flag of truce, and that in the papers relating to the affair he had acknowledged the act of assassination. Peter Porcupine takes up the charge in his letters and proves It to be false. The fact, however, stands that the charge was made. Speaking of Washington, I see that some of the goody-good newspapers of the country are very indignant at the statement in Quackenbos' history that Washington at one ' time ate peas with a knife. I do not doubt but the statement is true. The i whole literary United States at the time of Washington, however, seerat ed to be a mutual admiration society, and there is little unfavorable gossip about the White House din; ners. I found the other day, however, Maclay's Diary, giving his exi periences during his term as senator i of the United States when Washington was first president. Maclay i dined with Washington a number of i times, and scattered through his diary are little bits of gossip about these dinners. At two of them he i describes Washington as amusing himself during all the dinner by playing the devil's tattoo upon the table with his fork. He says, speaking of one of these dinners: "The ; president kept a fork in hand when the ninth was taken avfrav. I thought f for the purpose of picking nuts. He ate no nuts, but played with the fork, [ striking on the edge of the table ; with it." HORSEMANSHIP. ; Saddles are almost as various in . form and structure as the races of i men who use horses, and so are styles of riding, and the man who dogma1 tizes about his own saddie.and style i runs the risk of being brought to shame. Nothing,forinstance,candif! fer morefrom a cowboy's seatand sad; die than a Cossack's or Turcoman's. | The cowboy sits straight-legged on ; his fork, in what is called "tongs on ' a wall" fashion, in a high-peaked ' saddle, with his toes stuck out. The I Cossack or Turcoman sits as flat as if > he were in a chair, his legs forming ' a right angle at the knee and his feet exactly parallel with the horse's ' side. All three are superb riders, whether it be for sticking on, or getting over rough ground, or inakr ing long marches, or fighting, or run' ning away. If you argued with a Turcoman that he ought not to sit in a flat saddle with such short stirrups, [ but get a Whatman and stick his > legs out, likeCapt.Codman, he would ' not laugh, because that is not his style, but he would inwardly set you r down as an idiot, besides being an f infidel. r There is also much nonsense talked about the propriety or impropriety " of rising or "bobbing up and down" in the saddle during the trot when making a journey, and occasionally I a "True American" writes to the ' newspapers some sad drivel on the ' subject as a protest against the AnI glomaniac dudes who bob up and ' down on banged horses in the park. * On this subject, Capt. Codman, too, appears to have been led astray. If you use an English saddle, it is sim* ply cruelty to the horse to rise in ? trnffinff nn a lnno* ridfi. PSneciallv in ' the case of a heavy weigfit. In an English saddle the rider sits well ' behind his stirrups, which are rather short, a fashion approaching close' ly to the Asiatic seat, and if he tries ' to sit close during the trot he strikes the horse a catapultic blow at every stride in the tenderest portion of the animal's back. When he rises, on | the contrary, he decends gently, and he keeps his weight steady on the j horse by throwing it into his stirrups when his hinder parts are in the air. The principle of the thing is in fact illustrated by the jockey's practice r ofstandidg in his stirrups during a race, and the Cossacks or Arabs dut ring a charge. In both cases what is sought,is to avoid pounding the horse " with a 150-pound mallet when the poor animal is trying to move in a l regular trot or gallop. t In a military, or Mexican, or Whitman saddle, the circumstances are wholly different. The rider alj most stands straight-legged in his stirrups when the horse is trotting and keeps his weight on them and a at the same time accommodates him" self to the horse's motion by an up' and-down spring of the foot. In otn" er words, he has no occasion to rise, and does not come down on the horse I with a bang. There is probably nothing about which wide observation is more necessary to make people talk sensibly than about horsemanship. Every nation which rides s in the saddle has its own system, and for that nation its own bridles, p saddles, bits and seats are the best ? in the world. The man who sets I about disputing this runs great risk, as we have said, in being brought to i shame. 3 How Knife-Blades ard Made. , The blades of the very cheap pocketi knives are punched in dies from t sheet steel, but those for first-class i pocket-cutlery are hand-forged, a good workingman being able to - forge from twenty-five to thirty ir in rap hinripq. or about fortv Den blades i' per hour. There is a pattern and t gauge furnished the forger for each f sort of blade, but the experienced e workman rarely refers to either; 1 his accuracy of eye and skill of a hand being sufficient guides to exi actness. The blades come from the ; hand of the smith perfect in form, I except the bevel of the back intends ed to guide engaging blades, this 1 bevel being formed by grinding. The 3 steel used in these fine blades is 3 Warlow's (English), or the best s American make. d As they come from the forges the s blades are "choiled," or filed to a make a nick between the- blade and s the tang. Then the blades are tem* pered, having received the trademark stamp on the tang under a i press. The hardening is done in an : ordinary coke fire, the operator heat3 ing two at a time and plunging them ) in cold water. The drawing to tem3 per is also done over a coke fire. The 1 blades are ground on Sheffield and 3 Nova Scotia stones, "glazed" on c emery wheels, honed or "set," and finally are polished on wheels of 3 walrus hide fed with rotton stone.? - Boston Budget.