Hope Republican, Volume 2, Number 24, Hope, Bartholomew County, 5 October 1893 — Page 3

m THE PERILS OP _ Win Ell Prisoner!) By Charles Dickens, (1857) CHAPTER T—Continued,* The cry arose again, and there was a terrible and confusing rush of the I women into the midst of the struggle. In another moment something came tumbling down upon me that I thought was the wall. It was a "heap of Sambos that had come over the wall; and of four men who clung to my legs like serpents, one who olung to my right leg was Christian George King. “Yup, So-Jeer,” says he, “Chris-1 tian George King sar berry glad SoJeer a prisoner. Christian George j King been waiting for So-Jeer such longtime. Yup, yup!” What could I do with one-and-twenty of them on mo but be tied hand and foot? So I was tied hand and foot. It was all over now—boats not come back—all lost! When I was fast bound and was put up against the wall, the one-eyed English convict came up with the Portuguese captain to have a look at me. “See!” says he, “here’s the detei'mined man! If you had slept sounder last night you’d have slept your soundest last night, ray do-1 termined man.” The Portuguese Captain laughed in a cool way, and, -with the flat of

HE HAII.ED ME WITH A CHEER.

Ills cutlass, hit me crosswise, as it I svas the bough of a tree that he played with: first on the face and then across the chest and the wounded arm. I looked him steady in the face without tumbling while he looked at me, I am happy to say; but, when they went away, I fell, and lay there. The sun was up when I was roused and told to come down to the beach and be embarked. I was full of aches and pains, and could not at first remember; but I remembered quite soon enough. The killed were lying about all over the place, and the pirates were burying their dead, and taking away their wounded on hastily-made litters, to the back of the Island. As for us prisoners, some of their boats had come round to the usual harbor to carry us off. We looked a. wretched few, I thought, when I got down there; still it was another sign that we had fought.well and made the enemy suffer. The Portuguese captain had all the women already embai’ked in the boat he himself commmanded, which was just putting off when I got down. Miss Maryon sat on one side of him, and gave me a moment’s look, as full ■of quiet courage and pity and confidence, as if it had been an hour long. On the other side of him was poor little Mrs. Fisher, weeping for her child and her mother. I was shoved into the same boat with Drooce and Packer and the remainder of our party of marines; of whom we had lost two privates besides Charker, my poor, brave comrade. We all made a melancholy passage, under the hot sun over to the mainland. There we landed in a solitary place, and were mustered on the sea sand. Mr. and Mrs. Macey and their children were among us, Mr. and Mrs. Pordage, Mr. Kitten, Mr. Fisher and Mrs. Belltott. We mustered only fourteen men, fifteen women and seven children. Those were all that remained of the English who had laid down to sleep last night unsuspecting and happy, on the Island of Silver-Store. [The second chapter, which was not written by Mr. Dickens, describes the Prisoners (twenty-two women and children) taken into the interior by the Pirate Captain, who makes them the material guarantee for the precious metal and Jewels left on the island: declaring that, If the latter be wrested by English ships from the pirates in charge, he will murder

the captives. From their “Prison In the Woods,” however (this being the title of the second chapter), they escape by means of rafats down the river; anti the sequal is told in a third and concluding chapter by Mr. Dickens.] CHAPTER III. THE RAFTS ON THE RIVER. j We contrived to keep afloat all that night, and, the stream running strong with us, to glide a long way down the river. But we found the night to be a dangerous time for such navigation, on account of the eddies and rapids, and it was therefore settled next day that in future wo would bring-to at sunset and enI camp on the shore. As we know of no boats that the Pirates possessed up at the Prison in the woods wo ■ | settled always to encamp on the opposite side of the stream, so as to have the breadth of the river between our sleep and them. Our opinion was that it they were acquainted with any near way by land to the mouth of this river, they would come up it in force and retake us or kill us, according as they could; but, that it that was not the case, and if the river run by none of their secret stations, we might escape. When I say we settled this or that, I do not mean that we planned anything with any confidence as to what might happen an hour hence. So much had happened in one night, and such great changes had been

violently and suddenly made in the fortunes of many among us, that we had got better‘used to uncertainty, in a little while than I dare say most people do in the course of their lives. The difficulties we soon got into, through the off-settings and pointcurrents of the stream, made the likelihood of our being drowned, alone, to say nothing of our being retaken, as broad and plain as the sun at noonday to all of us. But we all worked hard at managing the rafts, under the direction of the seamen (of our own skill I think we never could have prevented them from overcutting), and we also worked hard at making good the defects in their first hasty construction —which the water soon found out. While we humbly resigned ourselves to going down, if it was the will of Our Father that was in Heaven. we humbly made up our minds that we would all do the best that was in us. And so we held on, gliding with the stream. It drove us to this bank, and it drove us to that bank, and it turned us, and whirled us; but yet it carried us on. Sometimes much too slowly; sometimes much too fast, but yet, it carried us on. My little deaf and dumb boy slumbered a good deal now, and tliat was the ease with all the children. They caused very little trouble to anyone. They seemed, in my eyes, to get more like one another, not only in quiet manner but in the face, too. The motion of the raft was usually so much the same, the sound of the soft wash and ripple of the water was usually so much the same that they were made drowsy, as they might have been by the constant playing of one tune. Even on the grown people, who worked hard and felt anxiety, the same things produced something of the same effect. Every day was so like the other that I soon lost count of the days myself and had to ask Miss Maryon, for instance whether this was the third or fourth? Miss Maryon had a book and pencil and she kept the log; that is to say she entered upon a little journal a note of the time and of the distances our seamen thought we ■ had made each night. So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on. All day long and every day the water, and the woods and sky; all day long and every day the constant watching of both sides of the river, and far ahead at every

bold turn and sweep it made for any signs of pirates or pirate dwellings. So, as I say, we kept afloat and glided on, the days melting thenrselves together to that degree that I could hardly believe my ears when I asked, “How now, Miss?” and she answered, “Seven.” To be sure, poor Mr. Pordage had by about now got his diplomatic coat into such a state as never was seen. What with the mud of the river, what with the water of the river, what with the sun and the dews and the tearing boughs and the thickets, it hung about him in discolored shreds like a mop. The sun had touched him a bit. He had taken to always polishing one particular button, which just held on to his left wrist, and to always calling for stationery. I suppose that man called for pens, ink and paper, tape and sealing wax upwards of a thousand times in four-and-twenty hours. He had an idea that we should never get out of that river unless we were written out of it in formal memorandum, and the more we labored at navigating the rafts the more he ordered us not to touch them at our peril and the more he sat and roared for stationery. Mrs. Pordage, similarly,'persisted in wearing her nightcap. I doubt if any one but ourselves, who had seen the progress of that article of dress, could by this time have told what it was meant for. It had got so limp and ragged that she couldn’t see out of her eyes for it. It was so dirty that whether it was vegetable matter out of a swamp or weeds out of the river, or an old porter’s knot from England, I don’t think any new spectator could have said. Yet this unfortunate old woman had a notion that it was not only vastly genteel, but that it was the correct thing as to propriety. And she really did carry herself over the other ladies who had no night caps and were forced to tie up their hair how they could, in a superior manner that was perfectly amazing. I don’t know what she looked like, sitting in that blessed nightcap, on a log of wood, outside our hut or cabin upon our raft. She would have rather rcsembled.a fortune-teller in one of the picture books that used to be in the shop windows in my boyhood, except for her stateliness. But, Lord bless my heart, the dignity with which she sat and moped, with her head in that bundle of tatters, was like nothing else in the world! She was not on speaking terms with more than three of the ladies. Some of them had, what she called, “taken precedence” of her —in getting Into, or out of, that miserable little shelter —and others had not called to pay their respects, or something of that kind. So, there she sat in her own state and ceremony, while her husband sat on the same log of wood, ordering us one and all to let the raft go to the bottom and bring him stationery. What with this noise on the part of Mr. Commissioner Pordage and what with the cries of Sergt. Drooce on the raft astern (which were sometimes more than Tom Packer could silence), we often made our slow way down the river anything but quietly. Yet that it was of great importance that no ears should be able to hear us from the woods on the banks, could not be doubted We were looked for to a certainty, and we might be retaken at any moment. It was an anxious time; it was, indeed, indeed, an anxious time. On the seventh night of our voyage on the raft we made fast as usual on the opposite side of the river to that from wh;ch we had started, in as dark a place as we could pick out. Our little encampment was soon made, and supper was eaten and the children fell asleep. The watch was set and everything made orderly for the night. Such a starlight night, with such blue in the sky and such black in the place of heavy shade on the banks of the great stream! Those two ladies, Miss Maryon and Mrs. Fisher, had always kept near me since the night of the attack. Mr. Fisher, who was untiring in the work of the raft, had said to me: “My dear little childless wife has grown so attached to you, Davis, and you are such a gentle fellow, as well as such a determined one” (our party had adopted that last expression from the one-eyed English pirate, and I repeat what Mr. Fisher said, only because he said it) “that it takes a load off my mind te leave her in your charge.” I said to him: “Your lady is in far better charge than mine, sir, having Miss Maryon to take care of her, but you may rely upon it that I will guard them both—faithful and true.” Says he: “I do rely upon it, Davis, and I heartily wish all the silver on our old island was yours.” That seventh starlight night, as I have said, we made our camp, and set our watch, and got our supper, and the children fell asleep. It was solemn and beautiful in those wild and solitary parts to see them, every night before they lay down, kneeling under the bright sky, saying their little prayers at the women’s laps. At that time we men all un-

covered and mostly kept at a distance. When the innocent creatures rose up, we murmured, “Amen!” all together. For, though we had not heard what they said, we knew it must be good for us. At that time, too, as was only natural, those poor mothers in our company, whose children had been killed, shed many tears. I thought the sight seemed to console them while it made them cry; but whether I was right or wrong in that, they wept very much. On this seventh night, Mrs. Fisher had cried for her lost darling until she cried herself asleep. She was lying on a little couch of leaves and such like (I made the best little couch I could for them every night), and Miss Maryon had covered her, and sat by her holding her hand. The stars looked down* upon them. As for me, I guarded them. “Davis!” says Miss Maryon. (I am not going to say what a voice she had. I couldn’t if I tried.) “I am here Miss.” “The river sounds as if it were swollen to-night.” “We all think, miss, that we are coming near the sea.” “Do you believe, now, we shall escape?” “I do now, miss, really believe it.” I had always said I did, but I had in my own mind been doubtful. “How glad you will be, my good Davis, to see England again!” I have another confession to make that will appear singular. When she said these words something rose in my throat; and the stars I looked away at seemed to break into sparkles that fell down rny face and burnt it. “England is not much to me, miss, except as a name.” “Oh, so true an Englishman should not say that! Are you not well tonight, Davis?” Very kindly, and with a quick change. “Quite well, miss.” “Are you sure? Your voice sounds altered to my hearing.” “No, miss, I am a stronger man than ever. But England is nothing to me.” Migs Maryon sat silent for so long a time that I believed she had done speaking to me for one time. However, she had not, for by and by she said in a distinct, clear tone: “No, good friend; you must not say that England is nothing to you. It is to be much to you yet—everything to you. You have to take back to England the good name you have earned here, and the gratitude and attachment and respect you have won here; and you have to make some good English girl very happy and proud by marrying her, and I shall one day see her, I hope, and make her happier and prouder still by telling her what noble services her husband's were in South America, and what a noble friend he was to me there.” Though she spoke those kind words to me in a cheering manner, she spoke them compassionately. 1 said nothing. It will appear to be another strange confession that I paced to and fro within call all that night, a most unhappy man, reproaching myself all the night long. “You are as ignorant as any man alive; you are as obscure as any man alive; you are as poor as any man alive; you are no better than the mud under your feet.” That was the way in which I went on against myself until the morning. With the day came the day’s labor. What I should have done without the labor I don’t know. We wore afloat again at the usual hour, and were again making our way down the river It was broader and clearer of obstructions than it had been, and it seemed to flow faster. This was one of Drooce’s quiet days; Mr. Pordage, besides being sulky, had almost lost his voice, and we made good way and with little noise. There was always a seaman forward on the raft keeping a bright lookout. Suddenly, in the full heat of the day, when the children wei’o slumbering and the very trees and reeds appeared to be slumbering, this man —it was Short—held up his hand and cries with great caution; “Avast! Voices ahead!” We held on against the stream as soon as we could bring her up and the other raft followed suit. At first Mr. Macey, Mr. Fisher and myself could hear nothing, though both the seaman aboard of us agreed that they could hear voices and oars. After a little pause, however, we united in thinking that we could hear the sound of voices and the dip of oars. But you can hear a long way in those countries, and there was a bend of the river before us and there was nothing to be seen except such waters and such banks as we were now in the eighth day (and might, for the matter of our feelings, have been in the eightieth) scanning with anxious eyes. (to be continued.) The latest photograph of the Prince of Wales shows his Royal Highness in a very amiable mood. All over the British empire the picture of “The Smiling Prince” has become decidedly popular.

• A MANIAC’S DEED. Frightful Tragedy in the Chicago Board of Trade. A Lunatic Fatally Wound*Two Men— Uroil Five Time* From the A fusillade of bullets was tired into the wheat pit on the Chicago Hoard of 1 rade, Wednesday. Instantly business was brought to a standstill and the wildest excitement ensued. M. F. Bennett, a broker, received a frightful wound in the neck. Charles Roswell, a telegraph operator. was shot In the log. 'I'he perpetrator was quickly overpowered and taken into the office of the secretary of the board. It was reported among tho cxcited j throngs on the floor and the crowds that gathered outside the building that the prisoner was a maniac. The individual who did tlie shooting was a stranger who gained access to the gallery a few moments before noon. He fired at random into the throng of speculators, fortunately only Injuring two persons. Mr. M. F. Bennett, secretary of the Board of Trade Mutual Benefit Association, and a promi" nent member of the board, will die from his Injuries, and little hopes are given for tin', recovery of C. W. Rosswell, one of the telegraph operators. ■ The man w ho did the shooting fired his revolver five times, lie stood up at the rear end of the gallery and fired twice at the wall, and then pointing the weapon down at the door fired three more times. Bennett fell mortally wounded and was carried into the secretary’s room while physicians were sent for. Thomas Barrett, a member of the board, captured the man and handed him over to the police. The man was evidently a lunatic. He la a stout man of middle ago, poorly dressed, and fora time refused to give any name but “Chicago.” Subsequently ho gave the name of Cassius Betden, of 365 La Sallo avenue. Business was completely suspend'd. As soon as the physicians arrived they pronounced Bennett fatally shot. Streams of blood flowed from the unfornate man’s neck and a gaping wound presented itself. Bennett lay on the table gasping for breath and the end was momentarily expected. Roswell was picked up senseless and laid on a table. The ball entered his chin on the left side and ranged downward. “I want to talk to a reporter,” said the prisoner to Police lieutenant Golden, as he was led downstairs in ihe Harrison street police station. “My name is Cassius Beldin. I am a carriage painter, and live at 265 La Salle avenue. I’ve been under hypnotic influence for three years. Three years ago a man named Jones hypnotized me at 239 Huron street. Hypnotism is slow, and it has only been a short time since 1 reached the exalted state. I was in the vulgar state for a long time. I have visited the Board of Trade frequently. 1 knew 1 was In bondage. It has been a struggle for bread with all of us, but when Ihoy began to sell my soul in the Board of Trade, to-day, I resisted. Before they sold my soul they sold my two children, who are in Philadelphia. I have a wife in Philadelphia, besides two children. Wo arc all in bondage. It Is a struggle for bread.” Mr. Barrett, who captured the madman singlehanded, is the hero of the hour, but disclaims any special bravery. STATEHOOD FOR TERRITORIES. I Rills to Admit Many of Them—New Mexico’s Many Resources* It is probable that the committee on Territories will report a bill for the admission of Utah to Statehood within a few days. Mr. Joseph, a member of that committee, said that the hill would be reported, and added that before the close of the present session bills for the admission of Arizona, New Mexico and Oklahoma would be reported favorably from his committee. He also expressed great confidence that all four of the bills would become laws. Referring to Now Mexico, from which territory he has been a delegate to Congress for the last ton years, Mr. Joseph said: “There is not a State or Territory in the United States that has so many or so rich and valuable mineral resources as New Mexico, or that can successfully compete with her In the quality of her fruits or grains. We have silver, iron, copper and coal in inexhaustible quantities, while the copper ore contains enough gold to pay for the mining and transportation of the whole, and the gold quartz also contains a good proportion of silver as well. Then, in addition to an unlimited supply of bituminous and anthracite coal, wc have whole mountains of natural coke, something that is to he found nowhu*e else in the country. At the World's Fair wo have recently beaten even California, not in the quantity hut in the quality. of our fruit, while we have carried oft first premiums against the world at the same Fair on our wheat and oats. All we now need is Statehood.” HE SET THE PACE. ; A Terre Haute Lawyer Knocks Down a Man Who Called Lawyers Thieves. Lawyer Sant C. Davis, of Torre Haute, used his strong right arm like a trained pugilist, Tuesday, on a painter named Pace, In the eourt-room, while court was in session. Mr. Pace had sued for a divorce, and the court had allowed the lawyer’s fees of *300. Pace arose in the courtroom and delivered a harangue, calling the lawyers “thieves and robbers”. Davis went over to him and knocked him into a chair with a well-directed blow. Judge Taylor fined the lawyer *10, but, on a general protest of other lawyers that Pace ought not to have been permitted to say what he did, the court remitted the fine. THE ELWOob CANTON WINS. The Elwood Canton, I. O. O. F., won the Stokes medal and first money (*500j at Chicago, Wednesday, and is now champion of America. A rousing reception was accorded the canton on Saturday night at Elwood.