Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 36, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 August 1904 — The Sea Scourge [ARTICLE]

The Sea Scourge

CHAPTER 1. It was a cold, wet day in autumn, and the sun. which had sbt been seen since morning, was nearing its western home of .rest. Upon the road fient Cambridge to Boston walked a man and two children. The former was young—hot over six-and-twenty —and habited in the garb of a seaman. lie was short in stature, and broad and heavy in his build, with a face of a bronzed line, upon which was stamped much intelligence and wit. A careful observer would have seen the index to a quick, passionate disposition in that face, -end -from the dark., somber smile that sometimes played upon it, he would have also concluded' that its possessor was not burdened with conscientious scruples where ~his-own purposes were at stake. L l>qn his shoulder he carried a small bundle, and upon one corner of the handkerchief which sc-rved for a porfma>.tenu was printed in small, black letters the name "Marl Laroon.” The children were a .boy and a girl. The boy could not have been over five years old, and he showed signs of excessive fatigue. He was a bright looking little fellow, and possessed much physical beauty. The girl was younger still, and as she walked wearily along beside her conductor, the .teas* ever and anon started from her large blue eyes. Her garb was plain and homely in the extreme, but her other appearance did not at all correspond With it. Her face was very pale and delicate, iter hair long and glossy, and betrayed much previous care and dressing, while her hands gave no token of acquaintance with dirt. The boy had shed some tears, for the traces of them were still to be seen upon his plump cheeks; but he shed none now, for he had received a blow for crying. '■You're tired, aren’t you?” said the man. addressing the boy. “Yes, sir,” returned the lad, looking up and shuddering as he met the gaze of his conductor. "Well, never mind: we’ve only three miles farther to go before we reach the Cross-Hands Inn. You’ll he glad to get there, won’t you?” “Yes, sir.” The words were spoken timidly, and with evident reluctance. “And -when you do'-get there, you’ll remembeT yoti are my child, won’t you?” “But you aren’t Siy father. Plefi'se don’t make me say so.” “You’d rather be whipped, eh?” “Mo, no!” shrieked the boy, and as he did so the little girl sprang forward and threw her arms about his neck, and burst into a passionate fit of weepirg. Marl Laroon removed the girl with a strong grip, and then looking the boy in the eye, he said: “I am your father, and yon must know it and say so. Where do you think jour father is?” “lie's dead, sir,” sobbed the po,or chiid. “Mr. Humphrey told me so.” “He told you a lie, then. I left you with him two years ago, and you are my boy. I was going away, and he said he would take care of you till I came hack. So when I came hack I took you. Perhaps he thought I was dead, though. Yerj likelj’ he did. Now just remember this, and if anybody asks your name, tell ’em 'tis Paul Laroon. Mind, new. 1 don't think you want me to kill you, hut I shall if you don't speak just as I have told you.” Tiie little fellow's lips trembled, and he would have burst into tears, but the look of ins master prevented him. "Mar>%” spoke Laroon. very kindly, “yon are tired, aren't you?’ ’ "Yes. sir.” lisped the child. “Say, 'Yes, uncle.'” “Yes, untie,” repeated she. as nearly as she could. "Mary is your cousin, Paul. And now, niy little Mary, you shall ride in my arms a while: and perhaps I will carry Paul, by and by, if he gets \<ry tired.” . , So saying, the stout sailor lifted the tiny form of the girl into his arms. It was fairly dark when they reached a little village, where stood the CrossHands Inn. at which place they stopped. Laroon calling the landlord out, ordered a room provided with two beds in it. and thither he took his little charges. As it was too cold to sit up, Laroon brought the children up their supper, and as soon as they had eaten it, lie helped them to bed. remarking as he did so that he was going down below a while, and that they must be sure and make no noise. When they wore safely tucked up in their nest, he gathered up the few dishes and left the chamber, being careful to lock the door after him and take away the key. It Was quite late when Laroon came up. nnd having assured himself that the children slept, he proceeded to undress and get into the oilier lied, and ere long his heavy, discordant snoring mingled harshly with the gentle breathings of those who occupied the other couch. Away off in a distant-part of the State there was alarm and anguish. A man, frantic nnd delirious, was calling aloud for his child—for his children—and calling in vain. Lanterns and torches were Hashing in every nook and corner where children had been wont to play, but no children were to be found. The streams were sounded ami drugged, and the woods and hedges were scoured all through, but the lost ones runic not. At midnight the man was upon his knees, crying aloud for his children; but his frantic prayer was in vain.

CHAPTER 11. Again, and it was n bright, calm day In summer. I'pon the bosom of the broad Pacific, in nlxmt tlie latitude of Manila, but some three hundred miles to the eastward thereof, rested one of the most beautiful specimens of murine architecture that ever met the gaze of an enraptured seaman. It was a full-rigged brig, with royals set, and studding sails upon both sides, of about two hundred tons bnrdcn. The deck wss as white ns pure wood can he made. The disposition of the rigging showed that there was a rule tor trary deffartmeili, even to ringoment of the smalleW turn,' while the arrangement itself proved that the whole waa under the supervision of some master mind. There were eleven gtms, end ell of brass, ten of which were upon the aides, while the eleventh was much Jeuger, and fixed upon e pivot sod roll-

way amidships. These guns were now covered with neatly fitting tnrpaulins, and secured inboard, the ports bc- : ng snugly closed. There were seventy-seven men —on board, and they all belonged to her; and though the render may have already guessed the character of the craft, yet the crew were not of that appearance which we are generally led to look for in such a place. They were as neat nnd orderly in their behavior as the crew of any man-of-war. Such was the Scourge, a name by wkiclL thc. brig and its. commaiisler \yero_ known, ndt only by the crew, but by many others who lead occasion to prove the aptness of the name. Neat the wheel, with a glass under his arm, stood a man whose dress showed him to be the captain of the brig. He was short in stature, hut very thick and broad, exhibiting much physical power of strength and endurance, Ilis features were by no means repulsive; nor were they prepossessing; but gave evidence of a keen, penetrating judgment, a quick, ready wit, and an untrammeled will. He was not'far from forty years of age, and his name was Marl Laroon. The reader has seen him before —long years ago —on one of the highways of New England. Close by the captain stood another, who is not wholly a stranger, though he retains nothing by which we might know him save his name. He is a youth, not over nineteen years of age, and possessing nothing in his outward appearance that could indicate his membership with such a crew. But he is a member, and has been for years. He is tall nnd straight, with features of more than ordinary beauty, and showing by every external look and action a noble, generous soul. He is called Paul Laroon. Not far off stand three more persons conversing together. The tallest of the three —he with the black hair and eyes, and the thin, satanic-lookiug lips, is John Langle.v, the first lieutenant. He is not five-and-thirty. The next, who is of medium size and only peculiar on account of the light, flaxen hair, and large, yellowish eyes, which sometimes have a pure green shade, is Philip Storms, the second lieutenant. The third is a short, stumpy limn, broad and heavy in his build, with elephantine motion. „ ilis head is - large, ami covered with coarse gray hair, and his eyes are quick and keen. He is the oldest man on board, being in the neighborhood of sixty years of age, and is the gunner of the brig. His name is Ben Marton. The men look to their captain for orders, and when he is cool and assured they are the same; but when the pinch comes, and a few well-directed shots can help them out of a scrape, all eyes are turned to old Ben Marton, for well do they know that lie alone can handle that long gun with a sure skill. “Paul,” spoke the captain, turning to his youthful companion, “we shall reach our retreat ere long. Were you not thinking of the same^ thing?” There was a strange tinge of irony or perhaps of bitterness in - these last words, and the dark-fneed man gazed into the other’s eyes as he spoke. “1 was thinking of reaching the shore once more,” answered the youth in low, hut steady tones. “But weren’t you thinking of any particular point on shore, eh? And perhaps you were thinking of some particular person you would like to see?” “1 was thinking of a variety of things,” answered Paul; “but I know of nothing particular that was uppermost.” “How would you like to see our little Mary?” asked the captain, speaking very low—almost in a whisper—and ej’ing his companion sharply. The youth started with a quick emotion, and for an instant his i eyes dropped; but he collected hint self as quickly as before, and then looking up again into liis interlocutor's face, he replied: “1 should like to see her very much.” “Of course,” responded Laroon. *Tt’s natural j'ou should.” And thus speaking he started toward the gangway, where some of the men were weaving a mat. Taul watched him as he walked away, and a troubled expression came upon liis face.

“What docs he mean?” said he to himself. And after some moments of thought, he mentally added, “only to tease me, that’s all.”' Shortly after this tlio boatswain piped to dinner. Paul quartered in the cabin and was the surgeon of the brig. Some years before there had been an old man on board, who had served in that capacity. and as he grew aged and feeble he wished to spend the evening of his life oil shore. Laroon granted his request on eondition that lie would procure a good surgeon to take his place. Paul had already gained much experience in helping the old surgeon manage the sick and wounded. So the old man agreed to take Paul in hand and teach him all the mysteries of t lie craft, and Laroon consented. The youth soon became expert in his new profession, and at the present time he had been two years in charge of tlie sick. Dinner was eaten, and when the captain returned to the deck he found that the breeze had freshened. He was standing by the binnacle watching the compass, when the lookout at the erosstrees reported a sail, hi iu instant ail was life and bustle on board the brig, and the captain sprang for hla glass and hastened forward. “Fore-topgnllant-mast, there! Where away?” "Three points on the starboard bow. “Keep your eye on her. Here, Storms, lay aloft with the glass and help the lookout.” The second lieutenant took the glass and went aloft, and then the captain returned to the wheel, where Paul was standing by the side of the helmsman. “Well, Paul, what do you think has turned lip now?” said he. “Perhaps a merchantman,'’ replied the youth, with n shudder. "Mayhap it is, nud mayhap it isn’t. We are in the latitude of such craft; but there's another kind of chap cruising about these waters.” “A Russian cruiser, you mean?” “Yes. How would you like to meet oner’ “It would not be the first one,” replied the youth, without the least show of discomposure. “That is true; but we might not reach

Silver Bay. How would you like that?” A quick shudder ran through Paul’s frame, but there was more of indignation in his look than of fear, and at the end of a single moment he replied, with a half-sarcastic smile: “We’ll think of Silver Bay after we have made ourselves sure of reaching it.” “Well spoken, my son,” cried the captain; and then he turned away. “Son!” whispered the youth to himself, as he watched the movements of the dark man. “I do not believe that man is my father! I never believed it. His blood never flowed in these veins. But whostS blood does flow there?” At this question Paul always stopped. He asked it of himself very often, but no answer ever came. “Hallo!” at this moment came from the second mate, who was standing aloft with his glass. “It’s a square-rigged craft, and standing-towards us.” —For fifteen minutes the captain-spaced the quarter deck in silence, and at the end of that time Mr. Storms reported that the strange sail was a ship, and to all nppearances a man-of-war. “Very well,” returned Laroon, perfectly calm. “We’ll find out her mettle before we show our stern. Ben!” The old gunner moved quickly forward and touched his hat. “You had better get old Saladin in order, and bring up some of your pills.” The long gun had been christened by the name of the renowned Saracenic sultan, and ere long it was divested of its tarpaulin, and the shot box by ita side was filled. The gun was loaded, nnd the ball driven snugly home, and then Ben Morton sat down upon the railway and waited further orders. At the cud of half an hour the second lieutenant came down and reported that the stranger was a Russian sloop-of-war. “Stand by to take in the starboard stud’n-snils!” ordered the captain. “We j will choose our own course, and run as j fast as we can, and if the fellow wants ■ ! to overhaul us lie may make the trial.” j The starboard studding-sails were! soon in, nnd ere long the brig was head- ; ing due west, the very course she must ; lake to reach her destination, though Laroon had meant to stop at Manila, if , it came perfectly convenient. It was now about half-past one, end ; the ship’s lower j r ards could be seen ' from the brig's deck, while the lookout • at the crosstrees, who had the lieutenant’s glass, could see her deck. He reported that she was a second-class corvette.

As soon as the men learned the character of the craft that was probably giving them chase, they smiled at each other with knowing nods and winks, for they felt sure that old Ben would cripple her before she could come near enough to do any harm. When the brig had changed her course it was noticed that the ship did the same, thereby clearly indicating that she meant to give chase. Had the pirate chosen to run to the southward she might easily have escaped, for she was evidently the best sailer, but she meant to do no such thing. This would put her back from her destination, and Marl Laroon had reasons for wishing to reach that point ns soon as convenient. At length a curl of smoke was seen to rise from the ship’s deck, and in an instant more came the report of a gun. “That mean's for us to show our bunting,” said Langley. “Yes,” responded the captain, “and up it goes. They shall see that we are not ashamed or afraid to show our colors.” In a few minutes more a small, jjojppact ball arose to the main peak, nnd as soon as it was at its place the knot was drawn and the flag fluttered in the breeze. It was simply a field of black, with a pair of crossed swords in white relief. As soon as this piece of iniperc. tinence was perpetrated, the ship fired another gun, and this time she seemed to have fired a shot, for something fell in the water about midway between the two vessels. But the brig kept on without paying any attention to this polite request. The vessels were not new far from a mile apart. The brig, as we have before remarked, was heading due west. The sloop-of-wnr wns now nearly abeam, and heading about southwest, so that stu would come within carronading range if she kept on in that way, even allowing that the brig sailed faster. (To be continued.)