The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, March 02, 1893, Image 3
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buttous,’
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mu avu
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wasietui or ycnr
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;e of business.”
CHAPTER XI.
TIIE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER.
;t see, sir, where wo lie, we are Iml i , , i . ,
i,, „ - ’ . ,. left me my breeks to cover me and lit
Iiour? sail from Anjuamurehan. , ■, ' , ; ■ . , ,
,. . . , : besides. And that was now I came
loseason. ‘'Give me sixty and 111
ing, "I got my wastefulness from "’' ,a
samo man I got 1! Imltoiis fnan. si.J
! that was my poi r fatlier, Ltun :au Sttw-
] art grace be to biml He was the pret-
j tiest man of bis kindred, and the best
swordsman in the hitlands, David, and
that is the same as to say in all the
I world. I should ken, for it was him that
taught me. He was in the Black \V atcb
| when first it was mustered, and like
| other gentlemen privates had a gillie at
| his back to carry his firelock for him on
. the march. And that was the fatlier
■ that I bad. God rest him.”
“I think he was not the man to leave
' you rich,” said I.
‘And that's true,” said Alan. “He
little
■e to
enlist, which was a black spot upon my
character at the best of times, and
would still be a sore job for me if I fell
among the redcoats.”
“What!” cried I, “were you in the
English uruiyi”
“That was I,” said Alan. “But I de
serted to the right side at Prestonpans,
and that’s some comfort.”
I could scarcely share this view, hold
w eathercock. Thirty guineas if ye land
me bn the seaside, and sixty if ye put
me in the Linnhe loch.”
“But see, sir, where wo li
a few
said Hoseason. "Give me sixty
set ye there.”
“And I'm to wear my brogues and mil
jeopardy of the redcoats to please you?”
cries Alan. “No, sir, if ye want sixty
guineas, earn them, and set me in my
own country.”
“It's to risk the brig, sir,” said the
captain, “and your own lives along with
her.”
“Tiike it or want it," savs Alan.
“Could ye pilot ns at all';" asked the I V* 8 d , e f ert ‘*‘ «“der arms for an unpar-
captain, who was frowning to himself. fanu j.w j^uor. But for «,’l •
TPeff.K!* iosit/W," said Alan.
T'm
more of a fighting man (as ye have seen
for yoursel') than a sailor man. But 1
have been often enough picked up and
set down upon this coast, and should
ken something of the lie of it.”
The captain shook his head,' still
frowning.
"If I had less money on this unchancy
cruise,” says he, “I would see you in a--
rope's end before X risked my brig, sir.
But be it as ye will. As soou as I get a
slant of wind (and there’s some coming
or I’m the more mistaken) I’ll put it in
hand. But there’s one thing more. We
may meet in with a king’s ship and she
may lay us aboard, sir, with no blame
of mine: they keep the cruisers thick every year since forty-six!”
upon this coast, ye ken who for. Now, i what brings ye, man'
>ir, if that was to befall ye might leave “ ”
the money.”
‘Captain,” says Alan, “if ye see a pen
nant it shall be your part to run away.
And now, as I hear you’re a little short
of brandy in the fore part, I’ll offer ye a
change; a bottle of brandy against two
buckets of water.”
That was the last clause of the treaty
and was duly executed on both sides, so
thatfAlan and I could at l..st wash out
the roundhouse and be quit of the me
morials of those whom we had slain, an 1
the captain and Mr. Riach conid hr*
happy-again in their own way, the name
of which was drink.
CHAPTER XII.
I HEAR OF THE RED FOX.
Alan at once field a piatol in his face.
Alan and 1 sat down to breakfast
about six of the clock. The floor was
covered with broken glass and in a hor
rid mess of blood, which took away my
hunger. In all other ways we were in a
situation not only agreeable, but merry,
having ousted the officers from their
owu cabin, and having at command all
the drink in the ship—both wine and
spirits—and all the dainty part of what
was eatable, such as the pickles and the
fine sort of biscuit. This of itself was
enough to set .ns in good humor, but the
richest part of it was this, that the two
thirstiest men that ever came out of
Scotland, Mr. Shnan being dead, were
now shut in the fore part of the ship
and condemned to what they hated
most—cold water.
“And depend upon it,” Alan said, “we
shall hear more of them ere long. Ye
may keep a man from the fighting, but
never from his bottle.”
We made good company for each
other. Alan indeed expressed himself
most lovingly, and taking a knife from
the table cut me off one of the silver but
tons from his coat.
“I had them,” says he, “from my fa
ther, Duncan Stewart, and now give ye
one of them to be keepsake for last
night's work. And wherever ye go and
ihow that button the friends of Alan
llreck will come around you.”
He said this as if he had been Charle
magne and commanded armies, and in
deed, much as I admired his courage, I
was always in danger of smiling at his
vanity; iu danger, 1 say, for had I not
kept my countenance I would be afraid
to think what a quarrel might have fol
lowed.
As soon as we were through with our
meal he rummaged in the captain’s
locker till he found a clothes brush, and
then taking off his coat began to visit
bis suit and brush away the stains with
such care and labor as I supposed to bo
only usual with women. To be sure ho
had no other, and besides, as he said, it
belonged to a king and so behooved to
be royally looked after.
For all that, when I saw what care he
took to pull out the threads where the
bntton had been cut away, I put a
higher value on his gift.
He was still so engaged when we were
hailed by Mr. Riach from the deck, ask
ing for a parley, and 1 climbing through
the skylight and sitting on the edge of
it, pistol in hand and with a bold front
though inwardly in fear of broken glass,
hailed him back again and bade him
speak qut.
“This is a bad job,” said he at last,
shaking his head.
“It was none of our choosing,” said 1
“The captain,” says he, “would like
to speak with your friend. They might
speak at the window.”
“And how do we know what treachery
he means?” cried I.
“He means none, David,” returned
Mr. Riach; “and if he did. I’ll tell ye
the honest truth, we could nae get the
men to follow.”
“Is that so?” said I.
‘TH tell ye more than that,” said he.
“It’s not only the men; it’s me. I’m
frich'ened, Davie.” And lie smiled
across at me. “No," he continued.
“what we want is to be shut of him.”
Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and
the parley was agreed to and parole
given upon either side; but this was not
the whole of Mr. Riach’s business, and
he now begged me for a dram with such
instancy and such reminders of his
former kindness that at last I handed
him a pannikin with about a gill of
brandy. He drank apart, and then car
ried the rest down upon the deck to
share it, I suppose, with his superior.
A little after the captain came, as was
agreed, to one of the windows, and stood
therein the rain, with his arm in asling.
and looking stern and pale ami so old
that my heart smote mo for having fired
upon him.
Alan at once held a pistol in his face.
“Put that thing up!" said the captain.
“Have I not passed iny word, sir, or do
yon seek to affront me?”
“Captain," said Alan, “I donbt your
word is a breakable. Last night ye hag
gled and argle bargled like an apple ] telling him all my misfortune, which
wife, and then passed me your word. ' l' e heard with great good nature. Only
and gave me your hand to back it, and when I came to mention that good friend
ye ken very well what was the upshot. °f u 'h.e, Mr. Campbell, the minister.
was so young I was wiser than say my
thought. “Dear, dear,” says I, “the
punishment is death.”
“Aye,” said he, “if they got hands on
me it would be a short shrift and a lang
tow for Alan! But 1 have the king of
France’s commission in my pocket,
which would aye be some protection.”
“I misdoubt it much," said I.
“I have doubts mysel’,” said Alan
dryly.
“And, good heaven, man." cried I,
“you that are a condemned rebel, and a
deserter, and a man of the French king’s
—what tempts ye back into this country?
It’s a braving of Providence.”
“Tut,” says Alan, “I have been back
cried I.
ell, ye see, I weary for my friends
and country,” said he. “Fr..nce is a
braw place, nae doubt, but 1 weary for
the heather and the deer. And then 1
have bit things that 1 attend to. Whiles
I pick up a few lads to serve the king of
France; recruits, ye see, and that’s aye
; a little money. But the heart of tbs
1 matter is the business of my chief, Ard-
| shiel.”
| “I thought they called your chief Ap-
! pin,” said I.
“Aye, but Ardshiel is the captain of
; the clan,” said he, which scarcely cleared
my mind. “Ye hee, David, he that wa u
all his life so great a man, and come of
the blood and bearing the name of kings,
is now brougiit down to live in a French
town like a poor and private person. He
that had four hundred swords at his
whistle I have seen with these eyes of
mine buying butter in the market place
and taking it home in a kale leaf. This
is not only a pain, but a disgrr.ee to us
of his family and clan. There are (he
bairns forby, the children and the hope
of Appin, that must be learned their let
ters ami how to hold a sword in that far
country. Now the tenants of Appin
! nc; oe ame to prevent TTT Am neo put.
I if ever 1 hold y'ou at a gnu’s end, the
Lord have pit/ upon ye!". Alan stopi>ed
allow down his anger. "Well,
what Jiwdo? He HiyJareS'
is to let. Ami thinks he. in
his black heart, ‘I’ll mm n g ( t other ten
ants that'll overbid these the warts ami
' Maceolls and Macrobs (fur these are all
names in my clan, David),’ ‘and then,'
thinks he, ‘Ardshiel will have to hold
his bonnet on a French roadside!’”
“Well." said I.*‘‘what followed?”
Alan laid down his pipe, which he had
long since suffered to go out, and set his
two hands upon his knees.
“Aye," said he, “ye'll never guess
t-hal! For these samo Stewarts, and
Maceolls, and Macrobs (that had two
rents to pay, t one to King George by
! stark force and one to Anlshiel by nat
ural kindness), offered him a better
price than any Campbell iu all broad
Scotland; ami far he sent seeking them
—as far »s to the sides of the Clyde and
the cross of Edinburgh—seeking, and
Beeching, and begging them to come,
where there was a Stewart to be starved
mid a redheaded hound of a Campbell
1 to bo pleasured!”
“Well, Alan,” said I, “that is a strange
story, and a fine one too. And Whig as
I may be, I am glad the man was
i beaten.”
“Him beaten?" echoed Alan. “It’s
little ye ken of Campbells and less of
Red Fox. Him beaten? No; nor will
lie till bis blood's on the hillside! But
if the day comes, David, man, that 1 can
find time ami leisure for a bit of hunt
ing there grows not enough heather in
all Scotland to hide him from my venge
ance!"
“Man, Alan,” said I, “ye are neither
very wise nor very Christian to blow off
so many words of anger. They will do
the man ye call the Fox no harm, and
yourself no good. Tell me your tale
I plainly out. What did he next?”
“And that’s a good observe, David,”
: said Alan. “Troth and indeed they will
do him no harm, the more's the pity!
And barring that about Christianity (of
which my opinion is quite otherwise, or
I would bo nae Christian), I am much
of your mind.”
“Opinion here or opinion there,” said
I, “it’s a kent thing that Christianity
forbids revenge.”
“Ah,” said he, “it's W'ell seen it was a
| Campbell taught yel It would be a con-
j venient world for them and their sort
if there was no such a thing as a lad and
a gun behind a heather bush! But that’s
nothing to the point. That is what he
did.”
“Aye." said I, “come to that.”
"Well, David," said he, “since he
could nae be rid of the royal commons
by fair means, he swore he would be
rid of them by foul. Ardshiel was to
starve; that was the thing he aimed at.
And since them that fed him in his exile
would nae be bought ont right or wrong,
he would drive them out. Therefore he
sent for lawyers and papers and red
coats to stand at his back. And the
kindly folk of that country must all
pack and tramp, every father’s sou out
of his father’s house, and out of the
place where he was bred and fed, and
played when he was a callant. And
who are to succeed them? Bareleggit
“Xcvcr with the sword," he cried loudly
Before we had done cleaning ont the
roundhouse a breeze sprung up from a
little to the east of north. This blew off
the rain and brought out the sun.
And here 1 must explain, and the
reader would do well to look at a map.
On the day when the fog fell and we
ran down Alan’s boat, we bad been run
ning through the Little Minch. At
dawn after the battle we lay becalmed
to the east of the Isle of Canna or be
tween that and Isle Eriska, in the chain
of Long islands. Now to get from there Ins hanging,
to the Linnhe loch, the straight course
was through the narrows of the Sound
of Mull. But the captain had no cha - .
He was afraid to trust his brig so deep
among the islands, and the wind serving
well, he preferred to go by west of Tiree
and como up under the southern coast of
the great Isle of Mull.
All day the breeze held in the same
point and rather freshened than died
down, and toward afternoon a swell be
gan to set in from around the outer
Hebrides. Our course to go round th»
inner isles was to the west of south, so
that at first we had this swell upon our
beam and were much rolled about. But
after nightfall, when we had turned the
end of Tiree and began to head more to
the east the sea came right astern.
Meanwhile the early part of the day,
before the swell came up, was very pleas
ant, sailing as we were in a bright sun
shine and with many mountainous
islands upon different sides. Alan and
I sat In the roundhouse with the odors
open on each side (the wind bein b
straight astern) and smoked a pipe or
two of the captain’s fine tobacco. It was
at this time we heard each other's stories,
which was the more important to me.
their hearts are stanch; they are true to
their chief, and what with love and a
bit of pressure and may be a threat or
two the poor folks scrape up ;i second
rent for Ardshiel. Well, David, I'm the
hand that carries it." And he struck
the belt about his body so that the
guineas rang.
“Do they pay both?" cried 1.
“Aye, David, both,” says he.
“What! two rents?” I repeated.
“Aye, David,” said he. “I told a dif
ferent tale to you captain man, but this
is the truth of it. And it's wonderful to
me how little pressure is needed. But
that's the handiwork of my good kins
man and my father’s friend, James of
the Glens—James Stewart that is—Ard-
shiel’s half brother. He it is that gets
the money in and doesthemanagement.’*
This was the first time that I heard
the name of that James Stewart, who
was afterwards so famous at the time of
But I took little heed at
the moment, for all my mind was occu
pied with the generosity of these poor
highlanders.
“1 call it noble,” I cried. “I’m a
Whig, or little better, but I call it
noble.”
“Aye,” said he, “ye’re a Whig, but
ye’re a gentleman, and that’s what does
it. Now if ye were one of the cursed
race of Campbell ye would gnash your
teeth to hear tell of it. If ye were the
Red Fox”— And at that name his ieetu
shut together, and ho ceased speaking 1
have seen many a grim face, but never a
grimmer than Alan's when he had named
the Red Fox.
“And who is the Red Fox?" I asked,
daunted, but still curious.
"Who is he?" cried Alan. “Well, and
I’ll tell you ’hat. When the men of the
clans were broken at Culloden and the
good cause v ent down, and the horses
rode over the fetlocks in the best blood
have to pay a rent to King George, but 1 ^K ar8 ; ^ in B i» to whistle for
- - i ms rents; he maun dow with less; ne
can spread his butter thinner; what
cares Red Colin? If he can hurt Ard
shiel Im has his wish; if he can pluck
the m ’roin my chieftain's table, and
the Ini ivs out of his children’s hands,
he will gang liame singing to Glenure!"
“Let me have a word,” said I. “Be
sure, if they take less rents, be sure gov
ernment has a finger in the pie. It’s qot
this Campbell's fault, man—it’s bis or
ders. And if ye killed this Colin to
morrow, what better would ye be?
There would be another factor in his
shoes as fast as spur can drive.”
“Ye’re a good lad in a fight,” said
Alan, “but. man, ye have Whig blood
in yel”
And with this Alau fell into a muse,
and for a long time sat very sad and si
lent.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE LOSS OF THE BRIO.
It was the spare yard I had got hoUl of.
It was already late at night, and as
dark as it ever would be at that season
of the year (and that is to say it was
still pretty bright), when Hoseason
of the north, Ardshiel had to flee like a clapped his head into the roundhouse
poor deer upon the mountain —he and door.
“Here," said he, “come out and see if
ye can pilot.”
“Is this one of yonr tricks?" asked
Alan.
“Do I look like tricks?” cries the cap-
Be damned to your word!’’ says he,
“Well, well, sir,” said the captain. J
“ye’ll get little good by swearing.”
(And truly that was a fault of which the
captain was quite free.) "But wo have I
other things to speak,” he continue;!
bitterly. “Ye’ve made a sore bash of
my brig; I haven’t bands enough left to
work her, and my first officer (whom 1
could ill spare) has got your sword
thioughout his vitals, and passed with
out speech. There is nothing left mo.
air, hut to put back into the port of
Glasgow after hands.”
“No," continued Alan, “that’ll nae do.
Ye’ll just have to set me ashore as we
ag-eed.”
“Aye," said Hoseason, “but my first
officer is dead—ye ken best how. There’s
none of the rest of us acquaint with this
coast, sir, and it’s one very dangerous
to ships.”
"Well, then, to Glasgow if ye list!”
says Alan.
“But all this will cost money, sir,”
said the captain.
“Well, sir.” savs Alan. “I am nae I
his lady and his bairns. A sair job we
had of it before we got him shipped;
and while he still lay in the heather the
English rogues that could nae come ..t
his life were striking at his rights. They
as I gained some knowledge of that wild stripped hitoof his powers; they stripped ! tain. “I have other things to think of—
highland country on which 1 was soon him of his lands; they plucked {ije wenp- my brig’s in danger!”
to laud. In thoso days, so close on the ons from the hands of his clansmen that By the concerned look of his face,
back of the great reliellion, it v as need had borne arms for thirty centuries: and above all by the sharp tones in
ful a man should know what l.o was do ' aye, and the very clothes off their back.-
ing when he went upon the heal her. } —so that it’s now a sin to wear a tartan
It was I that showed the example plaid, and a man may be cast into a jail
if he has but a kilt about bis legs. On<>
thing they could nae kill. That was the
love the clansmen bore their chief.
These guineas are the proof of it. And
now in there steps a man, a Campbell,
redheaded Colin of Glenure”
Alan fired up ami cried out that
hated all that were of that name.
"Why,” said I, “he is a man you
should be proud to give your baud to.”
“I know nothing I would help a Camp
bell to,” says he, “unless it wuS a leaden
bullet. I would bunt all of that name
like blackcocks. If I lay dying, I would
which he spoke of his brig, it was plain
to both of us ho was in deadly earnest,
and so Alan and I, with no great fear of
treachery, stepped on deck.
The sky was clear; it blew hard and
was bitter cold; a great deal of daylight
lingered, and the moon, which was near
ly full, shone brightly.
Altogether it was no such ill night to
“Is that him you call the Red Fox?” -keep the seas m, and I had begun to
said 1.
“Will ye bring me his brush?” cried
Alan fiercely. “Ah, that’s the man. ’ In
he steps and gets papers fnm King
George, to be so called king's (actor on
crawl upon my knees to my chamber the lands of Appin. And at first be
window for a shot at one.” sings small, and is hail fellow well met
“Why, Alan,” I cried, “what ails ye with Sheamus—that’s James of the
at the Campbells?" Glens, my chieftain's agent. But by i
"Well,” says he, “ye ken very well and by, that come to, his ears that 1
that 1 am an Appin Stewart, and the have just told you; how the poor com-
wonder what it was that sat so heavily
upon the captain, when, the brig rising
suddenly on the top of a high swell, he
pointed and cried to ns to look. Away
on the lee bow a thing like a fountain
rose out of the moonlit sea, and imme
diately after we heard a low sound of
roaring.
“What do ye call that!” asked the cap
tain gloomily.
"The sea breaking on a reef,” said
Campliells have long harried and wasted mons of Appin, the fanners i nd the Alan. “And now ye ken where it is,
those of my name; aye, and got lands of crofters and the boumen were wringing and what lietter would ye have?"
ns by treachery, but m vir with the their very plaids to get a second rent ! “Aye,” said Hoseason, “if it was the
' and sent it over seas for Ardshiel and
his poor bairns. What was it ye call it,
when I told ye?”
“I called it noble, Alan,” said I.
“And you little better than a common
Whig!” cries Alan. "But when it came
u „,v m i , -j —„ to Colin Roy, the black Campbell blood
MPers tricks lit Yor a peddler, and the in biin ran wild. He sat gnashing his ! l>een spared, it’s not sixty guireas-no,
show of what's legal over all to make a teeth at the wine table. What! should . nor six hundred, would have made me
man the more angry.” j » Slewapt get a bite of bread, and him ' risk my ‘ «-»
sword,” he cried loudly, and with the
word brought down his fist upon the
table. But 1 paid the less attention to
this, for l knew it was usually said by
those who have the underhand. “There’s
more than that,” he continued, “and all
in the same story; lying tfords, lying
only one.”
And sure enough just as he spoke
there came a second fonutaiu farther to
the south.
“There!” said Hoseason. “Ye see for
yourself. If I had kent of these reefs,
if 1 had had a chart, or if Shuan had
yon, sir, that was to pilot ns, nave ye
never a word?”
“I'm thinking," said Alan, “theae’U
be what they call the Torran rocks.”
, ‘* r ' ^re many of them?" says the
captain. (
"Truly, sir,! am nae pilot,” said Alan,
“hut it sticks In my mind there are ten
miles of them.”
Mr. Riach and the captain looked at
each other.
“There’s a way through them, I sup
pose?" said the captain.
“Doubtless,’’ said Alan; “but where?
But it somehow runs in my mind once
more that it is clearer under the land.”
“So?” said Hoseason. "We’ll have to
lianl our wind then, Mr. Riach; we’ll
have to come as near in about the end
of Mull as we can take her, sir, and even
then we’ll have the land to keep the
wind off us and that stone yard on our
lee. W'ell, wo’re in for it now and may
is well crack on."
With that he gave an order to the
reersman and sent Riach to the fore
top. There were only five men on deck,
counting the officers. These were all
that were fit, or at least both fit and
willing, for their work, and two of these
were hurt. So, as I say, it fell to Mr.
Riach to go aloft, and he sat there look
ing out and hailing the deck with news
of all he saw.
“The sea to the sotith is thick,” he
cried, and then after awhile, "it does
seem clearer in by the land.”
"Well, sir,” said Hoseason to Alan,
‘we’ll try your way of it. But f think
I might as well trust to a blind fiddler.
Pray God you’re right.”
“Pray God I ami” says Alan to me.
"But where did 1 hear it? Well, well,
it will be as it must.” ,
As we got nearer to the turn of the
land the reefs began to be sown here
and there on our very path, and Mr.
Riach sometimes cried down to us to
change the course. Sometimes indeed
none too soon, for one reef was so close
on the brig's weatherboard that when
a sea burst upon it the lighter sprays
fell upon her deck and wetted us likt
rain.
The brightness of the night showed
us these perils as clearly as by day,
which was perhaps the more alarming.
It showed me, too, the face of the captain
as he stood by the steersman, now on
one foot, now on the other, and some
times blowing iu his hands, but still
listening and looking and as steady as
steel. Neither he nor Mr. Riach had
shown well in the fighting, but 1 saw
they were brave in their own trade, and
admired them all the more because I
found Alan very white.
“Ochone, David,” said he, “this is no
the kind of death 1 fancy.”
“What, Alan!” 1 cried, “you’re not
q froifl V”
"No,” said he, wetting his lips, “but
you'll allow yourself, it's a cold ending.”
By this time, now and then sheering
to one side or the other to avoid a reef,
but still bugging the wind and the land,
we had got around Iona and begun to
come alongside Mull. The tide of the
tail of the land ran very strong and
threw the brig about. Two hands were
put to the helm, and Hoseason himself
would sometimes lend a help; and it
was strange to see three strong men
throw their weight upon the tiller, and
it, like a living thing, struggle against
and drive them back. This would have
been the greater danger had not the
sea lieen for some while free of obsta
cles. Mr. Riach besides announced
from the top that he saw clear water
ahead.
"Ye were right," said Hoseason to
Alan. “Ye have saved the brig, sir;
I'll mind that when we come to clear
accounts.” And 1 believe he not only
meant what be said, but would have
done it; so high a place did the Covenant
hold in his affections.
But this is matter only for conjecture,
things having gone otherwise than he
forecast.
“Keep her away a point,” sings out
Mr. Riach. “Reef to windward!”
And just at the same time the tide
caught the brig and threw the wind out
of her sails. She came round into the
wind like a top, and the next moment
struck the reef with such a dunch as
threw us all flat upon the deck, and
came near to shake Mr. Riach from his
place upon the mast.
1 was on my feet in a minute. The
reef on which we had struck was close
in under the southwest end of Mull, off
a little isle they call Earraid, which lay
low and black upon the larboard. Some
times the swell broke clean over us;
sometimes it only ground the poor brig
npon the reef, so that we could hear her
beat herself to pieces, and what with the
great noise of the sails, and the singing
of the wind, and the flying of the spray
in the moonlight, and the sense of dan
ger, 1 think my head was partly turned,
for I could scarcely understand the
things 1 saw.
Presently 1 observed Mr. Riach and
tho seamen busy around the skiff, and
still in the same blank ran over to assist
them, and as soon as I set my hand to
work my mind came clear again. It was
no very easy task, for the skiff lay amid
ships and was full of hamper, and the
breaking of the heavier seas contijinally
forced us to give over and. hold on, but
we all wrought like horses while we
could.
Meanwhile snch of the wounded as
could move came clambering out of the
fore scuttle and began to help, while
the rest that lay helpless in their bunks
harrowed me with screaming and beg
ging to be saved.
The captain took no part. It seemed
he was struck stupid. He stood hold
ing by the shrouds, talking to him
self and groaning out aloud whenever
the ship hammered on the rock. His
brig was like wife and child to him. He
had looked on day by day at the mis
handling of poor Ransome, bnt when it
came to the brig be seemed to suffer
along with her.
All the time of our working at the
boat 1 remember only one other thing—
that 1 asked Alan, looking across at the
shore, what country it was, and he an
swered it was the -worst possible for
him, r'or it was a land of the Campbells.
We had one of th& wounded men told
off to keep a watch upon the seas and
cry ns warning. Well, we had the boat
about ready to be launched when this
man sung ont pretty shrill, "For God's
sake, hold on!” We knew by his tone
that it was something more than ordi
nary, and sure enough there followed a
s«-a so huge that it lifted the brig right
up and canted her over on her beam.
Whether the cry came too late or my
hold was too weak 1 know not, but at
the sudden tiltiug of the ship I was cast
clean over the bulwarks into the sea.
I went down ami drank my fill, and
then came up and got a blink of the
moon, and then went down again.
Presently I found I was holding to a
spar, which helped me somewhat. And
then all of a sudden I was in quiet wa
ter and tiegan to come to myself.
It was the spare yard I had got hold
of, and I was amazed to see how far 1
had traveled from the brig. I hailed
her indeed; but it was plain she was
already out of cry. She was still hold
ing together, but whether or not they
had yet launched the boat I was too far
off and too low down to see.
While I was hailing the brig I spied a
tract of water lying between us, where
no great waves came, but which yet
boiled white all over and bristled in the
moon with rings and bubbles. Some
times the whole tract swung to one side
like the tail of a live serpent; some
times for a glimpse it all would disap
pear and then boil up again. What it
was I had no guess, which for the time
increased my fear of it, bnt I now know
it must have beeu the roost or tide race
which had carried me away so fast and
tumbled me about so cruelly, and at
last, as if tired of that play, had flung
out me and the spare yard upon its
landw’ard margin.
I now lay quite becalmed, and began
to feel that a man can die of oold as
well as of drowning. The shores of
Earraid were close in. I conid see in
the moonlight the dot s of heather and
the sparkling of the mi;a in the rocks.
“Well,” thought I to myself, “if I can
not get os far as that it'i, strange!”
1 had no skill of swimming, Essen wa
ter being small in our neighborhood,
bnt whe/i I laid hold upon the yard with
both arms and kicked out with both feet
1 soon began to find that I was moving.
Hard work it was, and mortally slow,
but in about an hour of kicking and
splashing I had got well in between the
points of a sandy bay surrounded by low
hills.
The sea was here quite qniet, there
was no sound of any snrf, the moon
shone clear and I thought in my heart 1
had never seen a place so desert and
desolate. Bnt it was dry land, and
when at last it grew so shallow that I
could leave the yard and wade ashore
upon my feet I cannot tell if I was
more tired or more grateful. Both at
least 1 was, tired as I never was before
that night, and grateful to God as 1
trust I have lieen often, though never
with more cause.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
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Friend of Mamma (to a little
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maid.
Lottie—Oh, I don’t believe
that at all, Mr. Harold. Mam
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Don't Take Our Word.
But call your druggist to one
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will tell you that Dr. Drum-
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Private Instruction.
P RIVATE instruction given in La
tin, Greek. Mathematics, English,
oranyof other branches usuallytaught
at school or colleges, by the Rev. Ed
ward MeCrady, A. B., a recent grad
uate of the University of the South
An appointment may be made with
Mr. MeCrady for the pur|K>se of ob
taining information as to terms, Ac.,
by applying at Thk Darlinuton
News Office.
Notice of Limited Partnership.
To all who it may concern: Notice
is hereby given that tiie undersigned
have formed a Limited Partnership ;
that the Name of Firm under which
such Partnership is to be conducted
is Edwards A Company. That the
general nature of the business to be
transacted is a General Merchandise
Business to be carried on at Darling
ton, South Carolina. That C. B. Ed
wards, and H. A. Edwards, who re
side at Darlington, Court House.
South Carolina, are the General Part
ners : and James L. Coker, who resides
at Hartsville, South Carolina, is the
Special Partner; and that the said
James L. Coker has contributed the
sum of F(ve Thousand Dollars as cap
ital to the common stock ; and that
[ said Partnership is to commence on
I the SOth. day of January 1893, and is
to terminate on the 1st. day of Janua
ry 1898 «
Dated this 30th day of January One
Thousand Eight Hundred and Nine
ty Three.
C. B EDWARDS,
H. A. EDWARDS,
General.
JA8. L. COKER,
Special.
Feb. 2—«t.
CHARLESTON, SUMTER AND
J NORTHERN RAILROAD
CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver.
■tTARTSVILLE RAILROAD.
In effect Jan. 2, 1893.
DAILY MIXED TRAIN
Leave Hartsville 5.00 a m
Jovaun 5.20 a m
Floyd’s 5.35 a in
Darlington 5 50 a in
Palmetto 6.02 a in
Arrive Florence 6.15 a m
Leave Florence 9.00 p m
• Palmetto 9.15 p in
Darlington 9.80 p 5
Floyd’s - 9.45 p in
Jovann - 10.05 p m
Arrrive Hartsville 10.25 p m
J, P. DIVINK, Gen. Supt.
NORTH.
21
i
A.M.
A.M.
. ...
0.50
8.15
6.45
8.30
8.48
1.00
9.22
1.20
10.40
1.41
11.15
2 05
11.40
2.21
12.10
2.41
12.40
8 01
3.50
4.30
t.m.
P.M
Chnrlegton
Pregnall’s
Sumter
l^unac
Syracuse
Darlington
Mont Clare
Robin’s Neck
Mandevi.le
Beuuettsville
Gibson |
Hamlet
SOUTH.
I 20
11.39
11.03
10.29
9 53
8.18
7.58
7.23
A.M
Hamlet
via the
Close connection is made at
for ail points reached by or vi3
Seaboard Air Line System ; at Ben-
uettsville for all tioiuls via C. F. A Y.
V R R.
No. 2 does not take passengers soiiith
of Sumter.
Nos. 21 and 22 do not run north oR
Bennettsville.
J. H. AVEUILL, General Manager.
c.
Si D. and C. A S. RAILROADS.
In effect Jan. 2, 1893.
i.cave Wadf-sboro 1.40 pm
Bennett's 2.01 p m
Morveu s 2.25 p m
McFarland 2 40 p m
Cberaw 4.00 p in
Cash’s 4 30 p in
Society Hill 5.05 p in
Dove’s 6.45 p in
Floyd’s 0.00 p m
Darlington * 0.25 p in
Palmetto 0.40 p in
Arrive Florence 7.00 p in
Leave Florence 0.30 a in
Palmetto , « 50 a in
Darlington 7.30 a Iff
Floyd’s ' 7.55 a m
Dove's 8 10 a iu
Society Hill 8 40 am
Cash's 9.35 a in
Cberaw 10.00 a in
McFarland 11.45 p m
Morven’s 12.05 p in
Benuetl’s 12.20 p in
Arrive Wadesboro 12.45 p m
Local Freight Train.
Leave Florence 9.00 a in
Arrive Darlington 9.45 a in
Leave Darlington 5.00 p m
Arr.ve Florence 5.4a p in
A. F. RAVEN EL, President.
ORTH EASTERN RAILROAD.
1^1 In effect Jan. 2, 1893.
SOUTH BOUND.
I^ave Florence
No. 15
Kingstree
Lanes
Arrive Charleston... .
Leave Florence
No. 27.
10.50 p?m
Kiugstree
Lanes
12.(8am
Arrive Charleston
2.19 a m
Leave Florence
No 23.
11.00 p m
Kiugstree
1 JltlCS
12.32 a m
Arrive Charleston
2.88 a ui
Leave Lanes
No. 53.
Arrive Charleston
vv
Train on C. A I). R. R. connects at
Florence with No. 15 Train.
KOKTH BOUND.
No. 78.
Leave Charleston 1.38 am
Lanes 8.22 a in
Kiugstree 3 40 am
Arrive Florence 4.55 a m
No. H6
laiave Charleston 5.42 am
I-anes 7.33 a m
Kingstree 7.55 a u
Arrive Florence 9.00 a in
No. 14.
Leave Charleston 4.12 p m
Lanes 0.03 p m
Kingstree 0.17 p in
Arrive Florence 7.10 p m
No. 52.
Leave Charleston 0 85 a m
Arrive Lanes 8.27 a m
No. 62 runs through to Columbia
via Central K. R. of S. C.
No. 78 runs solid to Wilming
ton, N.C., making close connection
witli W. A W. K. R. for all point*
North.
Trains Nos. 14 and 00 run via Wilson
an Fayetteville—Short Line—and
make close connection for all points
North.
J. F. DIVINE. Gen. Supt.
ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA A
AUGUSTA RALROAD.
In effect January 2 1893.
SOUTH BOUND.
No. 28.
Leave Wilmington 0.25 p m
Marion 9-41 p m
Arrive Florence 10.25 p m
No. 5o.
Leave Florence 3.20 a m
Sumter 4.85 a m
Arrive Columbia 6.15 a m
No. 52.
Leave Sumter 9.43 a m
Arrive Columbia 10.55 a m
No. 58.
Leave Florence 7.57 a m
Sumter 9 20 a m
Arrive Columbia
No. 52 runs through from Charles
ton via Central Railroad; leaving
Lanes 8.32 a m, Manning 9 09 a m.
NORTH BOUND.
No. 51.
Leave Columbia 10.45 p m
Sumter 12.05 a m
Arrive Florence 1.80 am
No. 78.
Leave Florence 6.10 am
Marion 5.53 a m
Arrive Wilmington 9.10 am
No. 59.
Leave Columbia
Sumter 7.80 p m
Arrive Florence 8.50 p m
No. 58.
Leave Columbia 6.10 pm
Arrive Sumter 7. 25p in
No. 53 runs through to charleston
via central Railroad, arriving Man
ning 8.00 p m Lanes 8.40 p m,
charleston 10.30 a m.
Trains on Manchester and Augusta
B. R-, leave Sumter daily except Sun
day. 10-50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a.
m. Returning leave Rimini 12:30 p
m.. arrive Sumter 1:40 p m.
Trains on Hartsville U. R. leave
Harts»ille 5:00 a. m., arriving Floyds
5:85 a. m. Returning leave Floyds
9:45 p. in., arriving Hartsvi 110:6 p. in.
Daily except Sunday.
Trains on Wilmington, Chadbuuru
and C< uway Railroad leave Chad-
bourn 10:30 a. m., arrive at Conway
1:00 p. m„ returning 1 ave Conway at
2 30 p.-m , arrive ( hidbourn 5:20 p.
m Leave Chadbouru 7:15 a. m. and
5:50 p. m., arrive Hub at 8:00 a. m. and
6:25 p. m. Returning leave Hub 9:00
a. in. and 6:45 p. m , arrive at ( bad-
bourn 9:45 a. m. ai d 7:80 p m. Daily
except Sunday.
John f. d:.vine, Gen’i Sup’t.
Attenion Mechanics!
All persons iu need of babbitt metal
can purchase it cheap at THB Dab
LINOTON News office,