The Sea
yV " Hp TTTV V V V o -
CHAPTER XIY (Continued.)
"Lin!" nttcr.-l ra il. starting. "Then
ho knew of tny flight nt thnt time?
Buffo Burninon hns bitrnyod me!"
"Why did yon trust thnt man with
your secret?"
"Yon. I thought ho was tny friend."
"Then .von wore most woefully decelv
td. Ho was in (lie cabin nil the even
ing, hum ncr. when I slipped in upon
thorn, he was showing the enptnln a
letter. It was writton with n pencil."
"Thnt wan mine!" gnspod Paul. "Oh,
fool dolt thnt I have boon!"
Again tho youth wished he had never
written thnt letter; but now tho wish
camo with diffomit feelings from those
ho experienced beforo. But it was now
too Into Indeed!
When Uioy reached the clearing where
the horses had been kept, the day wan
Jimt breaking mid it wan noon evident
thnt the captain wan going to the brig,
for lie turned into the path which led
that way. Just an tho sun made its ap
pearance over tho high headland of tin
enpe, thn party stopped upon the beach
opposite to where the brig lay, mid Ln
roon made a signal for n boat. Jimt then,
too, the other bout made its appearance,
Just coming In .alKltt around n curve in
the river, and both partlos reached tho
brig nliont tho anme time. The four
men who had come from their night's
wntch by the river bank were not a
little surprised at seeing their young
muster thus brought back to tho brig.
They reported themselves to the first
lieutenant, however, who had charge of
tho deck, nnd he bade them romuln by
the mast until the captain could tee
them. Laroon at that moment came tip,
nnd turning to the coxswain of the boat
he aaked him where he had boen nil
night. '
"Been waiting for Mr. Paul, fdr," re
plied tho old Halt.
"Very well, that will do."
So tho boatmen want forward, while
tho captain turned in the oppoaito di
rection, loading Mary, who Btill wore her
Hiiilor'H suit, by the hand. The malden'H
bundle of clothing had been brought
along, and alio wna conducted to u state
room, and there bidden to runtime' her
own garb.
CHAPTKU XV.
Paul walked moodily up and down the
quarter deck, and no one came there to
trouble him. Once ho had seen Uuffo
Hurnington since he had returned, but it
vns on'y for a nu'tiu'"'.. Tint hidivld
nal had come up the fore hatch, but upon
feeing Paul on deck he went inimedi
tely bnck. That alone would have been
enough to convince tlio young man that
lturnington was the botrujer. Of course
he felt the most utter contempt and in
dignation toward the dark-looking man,
Mtt yet he could not see through the
whole of it. The young man was walk
ing thus when the steward came and
told him that the captain would see him
In the cabin.
Paul at once obeyed the Summons, m
when ho entered the cabin ho fouud
Mary thoro, habited in her own garb,
nnd looking very pale. She sat away
in one corner, but when Paul came in
she quickly arose and went to meet him."
"Stop," said the pirate captain. "You
may be wonted together, if you wish."
Accordingly Paul sat down upon the
KoTtly cushioned seat which ex tended
nil around tho cabin, lib looked into
Lnroon's face, and ho found an expres
sion there which was beyond his power
to translate. Hut Mary left hhn not long
for study.
"Paul," ho Raid, speaking very calmly
nnd candidly, but yet rovealiug some
thing In his hjack eyes which gave the
lie to Ids manner, "1 hnve sent for you
to let you into a secret which I meant
ever to have kept from you. You may
think that I have never loved you that
I have never cared for you more than
nny other man or boy who may have
been under me, Now, why have you
wished to tlee from mo?"
"Because I loathe the life I am heru
forced to lead. I allude to the dark, con
demning crime that surrounds me on
overy hand, and the atmosphere of which
I am forced to breathe."
"Ah, you fear the gallows?"
"No, sir. 1 four God and my own
eoul."
"Well, perhaps you do. But now tell
mo why you would have taken Mary
with you?"
"For the self-same reason on her
part."
"What did you mean to do with your
chargo after you had got clear?"
"I meant to place her in a position
where she could have been contented and
happy."
"And Mary had consented to become
your wife?"
"I had consented, sir," replied Mary,
frankly.
"Then I shall never believe In the in
stincts of nature more," uueied the cap
tain, looking first upon tho youth nnd
then upon the inniden. "Paul," he added,
chunging his tone to one of deep import,
"1 have tried to deceive you. You arc
uot my child!"
At nny other time the young man
.would have received this announcement
with joy; but now a terrible fear struck
to his heart, and his brow grow cold
with a freezing moisture.
"You are no child of mine, nnd no rela
tive save by adoption," continued La
roou. "Your father died when you wore
only thro years old or rather nearer to
four. Your real name U PcUny!"
"Delany!" gasped Paul.
"Ay," returned the pirate, while a
grim smile played upon his dnrk fea
tures, "You bear the same nntnc as does
Mary o If you should erer marry her,
there would be no ohang of names.
Curiomi, isn't it?"
Scourge
3 r
iryr y . v v w wL
I "(Jo on." s-nsncd Paul. ..nvinir n t.
tontlon to thin last ling
"Ifa all told in a very few words," tho
pirate captain resumed. "Many li your
later."
"It cannot be!" erletl the stricken
youth, claaplng his hands.
"1 never spoke more tnily in my Ufa,"
replied Laroon. "She is your own sla
ter. You had hut one father and one
mother, though the father died Home
month before Mary was born. I folt
It to bo for my interest, when I first
took you, to claim you for a eon. I
hoped you would be more obedient; nnd
baring once told you thnt, 1 did not
choose to give myself the lie without
some strong enuae for it and thnt enuse
hns now most surely come. Itut you
don't aeem very happy at hnvlng found u
slater. How is It with you, Mary? Are
you not glnd you have round it brother?"
The inniden gazed up into her inter
locutor's face, hut she did not speak.
Her face had now turned to an ashy
pallor, and her hands were moving nbout
her thront and bosom as though there
were a acute of oppression there. Paul
thought he heard a gurgling in her
throat, and on the next instant her eyes
began to glare wildly at hlniaelf. He
th re w his arms about her, and aa he did
so she sank upon his bosom like a corpse.
He quickly laid her back upon the seat,
ami rushed tor his medicine chest and
obtained a battle of liquid ammonin.
By th lime the captain was on hind,
nnd he entered into the work of resuscita
tion with a will. Cold water was brought,
nnd her brow and temples bathed, while
her hands were chafed, and over nnd
anon Paul held the ammonia to her nose.
The maiden possessed a strong and
perfect organization', and ere long she
revived, but she was too weak to con
verse. For a while her pulse heat very
slowly and irregularly; but ere long its
velocity Increased, and finally It beat
with extreme feverish rapidity.
"She must be removed to the caatlo
Immediately," Paul wild, "for I fear a
fever will sot In upon this, and this is
no plnco for her to be sick in."
"Do you really think there Is danger
of fever?" asked the captain, now speak
ing earnestly, nnd without any of thnt
strangeness which had marked his words
thus far.
"She will have one most surely, if she
remains here," returned the youth, "and
she may have one at any rate; but the
sooner she is removed, the better for
.should she be taken down, it would be
too late."
Mary showed by her looks how grate
ful she felt for this interference in her
behalf; but she dhf not speak she could
not then h.tve bptiUen above .a hnnise.
painful whisper had she tried, Lnroou
nt once hastened on deck to hnvo a boat
called away, and while lie was gone,
Paul clasped Mary to his bosom.
"Hearest," he whispered, "wc muy
yet be "
Ho stopped suddenly us though some
thing had struck him, and the pain
marks came to his face, for at thnt
moment he remembered that she was
only a sister.
In a few momenta tho enptain return
ed, and made Paul help him get tho
maiden ready for going. This was quick
ly done, and then Laroon took her in
his arms as he would have dono a child,
and carried hor on dock.
"Shall I not accompany you?" asked
our hero.
"No," was the simple answer.
As the captain thus spoke he pro
ceeded up the gangway, whore most of
tho crew were gathered.
"Hack, back! every one of you!" cried
Laroou.
All obeyed this order save Buffo
Hurnington. Ho crowded nearer up, and
as the captain camo to the gangway lad
der, he said:
"Let mo take her, captain, while vou
go down in tho boat, and then I will
hand her to you."
Marl had not beforo thought of the
diltleulty he should find in descending to
tho boat with his load, and he quickly
gave her into tho man's arms. Buffo
seized her, and with a quick, excited
movement, he brushed her hair buck
from her face nnd brow, and then, for
one inoiiitMit, he gazed Into her face with
all the power of outwnrd and inner vis
ion. "Mary." he uttered in a low, thrilling
tone, "Mary," he repeated, seemingly
forgetful of those who stood around,
"look at me!"
The maiden looked up to those horrid
features, but she did not shrink, nor did
she tremble, but she seemed rather to be
fascinated by the devouring gaae that
was fixed upon her.
"All ready." cried Marl.
In au instant Hurnington ascended the
ladder, and when ho had gained the top
of the bulwarks, he adroitly held his
burden with his left arm, and seizing the
mau rope with his other hand he de
sceiuled ami deposited the girl safely in
tho captain's arms. He waited to' see
tho boat off, nnd then he returned to the
deck.
CHAPTER XVI.
Paul hnd seen all this strange work
on Burnington'a part, and he was soroly
puzzled. He gnxed Into those features,
and he thought they seemed all kindness
nnd love. And his gaze was returned.
For a whilo the youth was really niysi
lied. Perhaps, he thought, there must
be soinu mistake after all. Perhaps
Burnlngton did uot betray him. He took
a few turns up and down the deck, and
finally he re.iolml tw cull the strango
nun to the cshin ami question him. A
soon as lie hxd come to this determina
tion he went to the gangway, where the
mint ye.t stood, sud touched him upon
tho shoulder.
"wUal. i itV Nckcd Ruffo.
I "Como to tho cabin, will our
Paul led V o wn nft, nnd the Innu
mnn followed Many of tho crew no
th cd the lri'ivui'-. t, and many were the
nods and sidt'IoriK Bhnk'-s of tho head
It caused, for ".!! the crew had by this
time come to know that there was some
j mysterious connection between Paul and
i the one-eyed pirate.
The young surgeon was alone with the
man who hnd occupied so much of Ma
moat earnest thought, but the latter
evinced no uneasiness or fear. He took
a seat opposite the youth, nnd then
prepared to wait for boiiio one to com
mence the business.
"Irurnington," said Pnul, as soon as
he could sutflciently compose himself to
speak calmly, "I havo called you here to
ask you somo nerious questions, and I
hope you will answer mo truly. You
are, of course, awaro thnt I nttempted
last night to make my escape from this
place and those people? And you must
bo aware, too, that -Marl Laroon over
took mo?"
"Certainly."
"And la it not reasonable to suppose
that some one In whom 1 reposed confi
dence betrnyod me?"
"1 should think so."
"lOxcuse me for the question, but I
must ak It. Did you betray mo?"
Biirniiigton did uot answer this ques
tion at once. He gnsed into his Inter
locutor'f face, and then bent his eyes
to the floor.
"Your siloncc almost amounts to an
affirmative answer to me," said Paul,
with a spice of bitterness in his niMinor.
"Very well," returned Burniugton, re
turning Paul's gaze calmly and stendily.
"I was thinking, not what nnswor I
should make, but whether any explana
tion would be of use. I can simply say
that I did betray you. I showed the
captain the letter you gave me; and but
for me you might have been in Naga
saki."
"Why did you do this?" the young
man asked, striving to keep back his
anger.
"Because I felt it to be my duty,"
calmly returned the other. "We all
hnvo our Ideas of duty, Paul, and per
haps if I wore to explain this point you
would ho no more satisfied than you
nrc now."
"That is enough, sir," uttered the
jouth, rising rrom his sent. "I thank
J on for your candor, for I shall know
now whom to trust. 1 have nothing
more to say."
Without a word Burnlngton arose and
moved townrd the ladder. Ills stop was
very slow nud heavy, and, in addition
to his lameness, he seemed to have an
impediment of motion thnt proceeded
from within. Paul could see his face,
nnd he could see that there was a sad,
unhappy look upon It. In an instant the
whole current of his feelings chnnged.
"S'. ;.- -: tn) oiu moment." he uttered.
"Tell me why you did this thing."
"Because I meant that you should not
leave the brig." answered Buffo, stopping
at the foot of the ladder nnd turning to
wnrd his questioner. As he thus spoko,
he turned ugahi and moved up the steps.
As soon as Burninglou was gone
Paul began to pace up and down the
cabin floor, aaid at the end of half an
hour he had fully made up his mind
that Buffo Burnlngton was more ready to
serve the intoreis of the pirate, captain
than any one else.
It was now dinner time, and Paul
was aroused lrom his reverie by the en
trance of the siewnrd, who had come to
set the table. After dinner the second
lieutenant took the deck, while the first
lieutenant, t",k twelve men and started
off to hunt up more of the horses. With
this party Huffo Burnlngton went, and
as we shall have occasion to note some
thing that befell them on their route, wo
will go with them.
Mr. Iiunglcy, tho lieutenant, knew nil
the crooks and turns of the woods whero
the horses wandered, and as it was now
approaching the season when horses wero
in demand, Laroon wished to get up all
that were fit to break, and dispose of
them; tor, as we remarked before, tho
pirate made much money by the raising
of stock on his estatv, and the merchants
of the neighboring cities knew him only
as the owner of tho Silver ltlver estate.
Langlcy's pnrty were furnished with
bridles and lnssoes, and when they reach
ed tho shore they took their way to the
enclosure where the tamo horses were
kept. Their first movement was to call
the horses together, which was done by a
peculiar whistle, and while they were
thus engaged, tliey noticed a man ap
proaching them from the woods. lie wai
a well-dressed, gentlemanly looking per
son, in the prime of life, and possessing
a frame of great muscular power. Ha
came up to whero the party stood, and
after running his eyes over the men, h
selected the lieiitennnt for the superior.
"Oan you tell me." he asked of Mr.
Lnngley, "If Captain Laroon is about
here?"
"L think he Is at his dwelling," re
turned tho lieutenant, eying the stran
ger sharply.
"Ho has n vessel somewhere about
hero, I believe?"
"Ho may have: he owns several."
As Langley made this reply, the
stranger took off his hut and took there
from a handkerchief, and after wiping
hi iiio . . it, l.o returned it to the
place from when he took It, and replaced
his hat upon his head. On the next
instant there camo a crashing sound
from tho circumjacent wooil, nnd upon
looking in tho direction from whence tho
sound came, Langley saw a party of
some twenty horsemen dashing towards
him.
"What means this, sir?" he uttered,
turning to the stranger.
"Oh, those nre friends of mine," war
the cool reply.
(To be continued.)
Pojmlur Fail.
"This literary Journal," remarked the
iiewtqmpor man, "contends that the
modem book-reader nklps." I
"It isn't always tile book-render,"
hiii Id tliu TVNt ineri'hiiot: "oiiieUiucs
It's tliu hooWet'pr.'
.war srm. -A . i m v
rillC DIGNITY" OK UOItlt.
Uy tho Her. James 3. Stone, n, I).
"Wo are laborers together with
God." I. Corinthians ill., J).
It was the consciousness thnt they
wore workers together with God thnt
sustained tho apostle in their struggle
ngnlnst the powers of paganism. God
wits working out) u purpose, and they
woto working with him in that pur
pose. So Is It with every mnn who la
striving to do his duty.
God made us in his owti linage- Our
mentnl and spiritual qualities, though
lnforior Hiid finite, are nevertheless of
the same kind,, and after the sutme pnt
tern, as the mental nnd spiritual qual
lueu of Ood. We are his children, like
unto our father, and we are made not
only lo share In his love nnd glory but
also In his work. He hns done much,
but he has left something for u to do.
Thua tho vnst. sublime, and magnifi
cent wilderness, untamed and unculti
vated, Is of little use bo human life till
man has gone Into It. He brings out
Its powers, avails himself of It possi
bilities, and works together with God
both for the beautifying of the earth
and for the bringing out of tho powers
that He within It. Hence It Is that a
garden Is fur more lovely than the
wild woodland, nnd the rose cultivated
nnd trained much more beautiful than
tho flower that struggles recklessly for
llfo In the wilderness.
The man, therefore, thnt trims a
tree, thrusts a spado Into the ground,
gathers the ore from the mine, purities
it. shapes it. say. Into the mnehlnery
that v'mll -weave clothing or into the
engine thn 6 shall speed him from city
to city the mnn that gathers the light
ning from the clouds and guides it
into the many uses now discovered for
electricity is a worker together with
God. His labor, oftentimes Irksome,
worrying, wearing, is yet divine. The
laborer In the Held or workshop is In
deed a priest, a mediator between God
and nature, a worker with the great
Creator for the uplifting and develop
ment of humanity.
This truth may be applied fenrlessly
In all directions. The lawyer who Is
striving for justice and pence Is work
ing with God. Governments and legis
latures thnt would discover and. ob
serve law, rule In equity and judg
ment, avert war, and v advance the
prosperity of the people have In mind
the snme purpose that God has. So is
the physician fellow to him who went
about healing the sick, alleviating
pain, and prolonging life. What is the
man doing who spIIs us our coal and
clothing and food, but helping God In
his work of preserving our life?
God would have his children to he
happy. True, there are some pcoplo 1
who think we ought not to seek after j
happiness, or at least we ought not to
be too happy. They think something
bad Is nbout to happen to them If they
are unusually happy. Many of their
kind deliberately seek to make them
selves miserable. But II would bo Im
possible to prove, or for tho most of us
to believe, that this Is the will of God.
Indeed, tho misery that Is In the world
to-day Is here because men hnve re
fused to be workers with God for its
removal. If man hnd always domvhis
duty there would be no poverty, fl I s
tress, sickness, or sorrow. God would
break no one's henrt But man has
neglected his work, or hns oompln
contly allowed evils to go on, upon the
supposition that either the evils wore
unavoidable or had an clement of good
In them. The weeds will remain In
tho wilderness and misery will con
tinue in the earth till man honestly
and faithfully set to work with God
for their elimination.
So It is that when we do a kind
deed or say a loving word to one in
distress, sorrow, or need, .we are help
ing God in his purpose to make that
weary one happy. You tnke up In
your arms a little child thnt Is sob
blng and crying over some tiny trou
bio that hns come into Its heart. You
try to comfort the fragllo soul, and
without thinking, perhaps, in a mo
mejij you are doing that which we arc
toll God shall some day do himself
wiping nwny the tears. In a thousand
and one ways we strive with God for
the same end.
Arid it means so much more when
you do the work yoursolf. We must
have societies and bureaus to de much
of the betiuvolent duty of a rrent city,
nnd they ought to be woll supported;
but better far Is It for you to do some
thing yourself. If you cannot person
ally meet the people that are In dls
iuIsh kuo''lng either what
rt'treis 'eilly is or the o.v of helping
to fti.rvia.p It. If vwti klic-.v the (lis- '
tress or the Joy you would ho eager ti
give of your lime nnd means to tin
work In which God Is Interested
The same principle applies when w
try to make other lives useful. Maa
untaught and uncivilized is like thi
wilderness untamed and uncultivated
He may have a certain rugged beautyi
that is the best he Is likely to huva
But o with him as with your wllf
land.'iTaln, develop, educate, awakci
and direct lmuginntlon, intellect, nnd
memory, Inspire him with lofty an
noble purposes, nnd you make of bin
that which nature alone could never
make. You become a worker together
with God to make the child worthy o
his heavenly father.
All this Is true also of our work 1j
reference lo ourselves. God leaves ut
something to do for ourselves. W
have powers, but we must develop am
use them. Wo hnve food for out
bodies, minds, and souls, but wo must
appropriate it. Wo nre not born wls
or learned or skilled; we must draw
out ourselves.
These considerations should tone)
us, llrst, that all honest, tnio labor, ii
Held, workshop, olllce, store, study, ot
schoolroom, or wherever our lot maj
be cast, Is dignified and consecrated.
NliK!) OF 1U IJ MO Tit AIMING.
Uy Rck. William P. Mr r rill.
numan life is a tangle of problems
But one thread has in It the secret o)
unraveling the mass; It Is the tralnlni
of children. Find out what to do wlti
the little chilli, and you solve all proh
loins. The greatest thing that ov
happened to the world's life wnB tht
birth of a little babe; we still observ
the anniversary as our happiest day
Yet we treat the child too often as hit
world treated him. "No room fa
him" as a child; no use for him whoi
he grew to manhood; only to be ctr
off, killed, put out of the way.
The grer.t need and right of evoq
child Is a knowledge of tho Bible,
want to make elenr three proposition)
(J) every child needs nnd has a right
to the Bible; (2) the school does no
give it to him; ('l) the church and ttv
home are the only institutions that cal
give it to him.
Every child needs tho Bible. Il
needs it for culture. The best rnlndi
say so. Matthew' Arnold and Thomni
H. Hurley, ngnostlcs. pleaded that thi
Bible be made a part of the publh
school curriculum In Great Britain oi
account of its incomparable value foi
culture. The child needs It for form
lug that most needed force, a soeln
conscience, t mining him in how to llv
helpfully, not harmfully, with otha
people, no needs it above all to no
cure to him a sane nnd real rellgloui
experience.
Now, the pchool does not give thh
knowledge, it can not. Once It did
The curriculum In the Boston publh
H'bool In 17S1 was made up altogether
of religious and moral studies. Y
have separated church and state. I
Is well we have. Our school systom
even as It Is, Is Immensely better thai
that of Boston, 1781. But our schoolt
do not and, In the present status ol
things, can not give definite kuowl
edge of the Bible or of the Christian re
llgion to the pupils.
So we reach our third proposition
the church and the school are the onh,
institutions that can train the cblldrei
In biblical knowledge. Tins empha
sizes the .Importance of the churcl
Sunday school, kindergarten nnd otha
means of religious training of thi
young. No work Is moro lmportnn
for the church than this.
But, above all, such work of blbll
cal training belongs to tho homo, to
fainer and mother both, for the fath
er can not throw tho whole burden ot
his wife. You, fathers and mothers
can give your child the best part o
his education, and you have the sol
emn knowledge that If you do not glvi
It he will never get it as he should
John Buskin said that the. one esson
tlal part of his education was thi
work his mother did In Betting bin
to learn chapters nnd verses while I
little boy.
MANKIND AS AN AH8I3T.
By Dr. If. A. Mrtlett.
In the midst of all our talk of tin
lPW ;vi w'Vt It Kv ' V! 1 HC''vl'sV 'f
stamping out crime, one factor In j
Christian clvlllzntlon seems to hav
been forgotten, nnd that Is the attf
tude of the church as represented bj
Christ himself. We read that as hi
looked out on sinning, sick and ri
ous multitudes, he saw them with eye
of compassion. That Is the most dlfll
cult state of mind to have compasslor
on those who would seem to be cundl
dates for the penitentiary. Yet it i
the divine one.
Hhort Meter Hruiou.
Gred Is the foe of gain.
Liberty falls where the law falls.
Love alono can interpret the law.
Th"i iifMi who make indue In ehli
WiM'h! arc ill n .ms lih- uiiirl oil.tx.