* *
#
* PHANTOM SHIP
OR
The Flying Dutchman.
5 *
* .
* * BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT.
CHAPTER XX. ( Continued. )
That the admiral had exceeded his
powers In taking the life of the officer
was undeniable , as although his in
structions gave him the power of life
and death , still it was only to be de
cided by the sentence o the court-mar
tial held by the captains commanding
the vessels of the fleet ; he therefore
felt himself justified in resistance. But
Philip was troubled with the idea that
such resistance might lead to much
bloodshed ; and he was still debating
how to act , when they reported to him
that there was a boat coming from the
admiral's ship Philip went upon the
deck to receive the officer , who stated
that it was the admiral's order that
he should immediately come on board ,
and that he must consider himself now
under arrest , and deliver up his sword.
"No ! no ! " exclaimed the ship's com
pany of the Dort. "He shall not go
on board. We will stand by our cap
tain to the last. "
"Silence , men ! silence ! " cried Philip.
"You must be aware , sir , " said he to
the officer , "that in the cruel punish
ment of that innocent joung man , the
admiral has exceeded his powers ; and ,
much as I regret to see any symptoms
of mutiny and insubordination , it must
be remembered that if those in com
mand disobey the orders they have re
ceived , by exceeding them , they not
only set the example , but give an ex
cuse for those who otherwise would be
bound to obey them , to do the same.
Tell the admiral that his murder of
that innocent man has determined me
no longer to consider myself under his
authority , and that I will hold myself
as well as him answerable to the com
pany whom we serve for our conduct.
I do not intend to go on board and put
myself in his power , that he might
gratify his resentment by my igno
minious death. It is a duty that I owe
these men under my command to pre
serve my life , that I may , if possible ,
preserve theirs in this strait ; and you
may also add that a little reflection
must point out to him'that this is no
time for us to war with , but to assist
each other with all our energies. We
are here , shipwrecked on a barren
coast , with provisions insufficient for
any lengthened stay , no prospect of
succor , and little of escape. As the
commodore truly prophesied , many
more are likely to perish as well as
him and even the admiral himself
may be of the number. I shall wait
his answer ; if he choose to lay aside
all animosity , and refer our conduct
to a higher tribunal , I am willing to
join with him in rendering that as
sistance to each other which our sit
uation requires if not , you must per
ceive , and of course will tell him , that
I have those with me who will defend
me against any attempt at force. You
have my answer , sir , and may return
on board. " ,
CHAPTER XXI.
The officer went to the gangway , but
found that none of his crew , except
the bowman , were in the boat ; they
had gone up to gain from the men of
the Dort the true history of what they
but imperfectly heard ; and before they
w'ere summoned to return had re
ceived full intelligence. They coin
cided with the seamen of the Dort that
the appearance of the Phantom Ship ,
which had occasioned their present
disaster , was a judgment upon the ad
miral for his conduct in having so
cruelly deserted the poor commodore.
Upon the return of the officer with
Philip's answer , the rage of the ad
miral was beyond all bounds. He or
dered the guns aft , which would bear
upon the Dort , to be double-shotted ,
and fired into her ; but Krantz pointed
out to him that they could not bring
more guns to bear upon the Dort in
their present situation , than the Dort
could bring to bear upon them ; that
their superior force was thus neutral
ized , and that no advantage could re
sult from taking such a step. The
admiral immediately put Krantz under
' arrest , and proceeded to put into exe
cution his insane intentions. In this
lie was , however , prevented by the
seamen of the Lion , who neither wish
ed to fire upon their consort nor to be
fired at in return. The report of the
boat's crew had been circulated
through the ship , and the men felt too
much ill-will against the admiral , and
perceived at the same time the ex
treme difliculty of their situation , to
wish to make it worse. They did not
proceed to open mutiny , but they went
down below , and when the officers or
dered them up they -refused to go upon
deck ; and the-officers , who were equal
ly disgusted with the admiral's con
duct , merely informed him of the state
of the ship's company , without naming
individuals so as to excite his resent
ment against anyone in particular.
Such was the state of affairs when the
sun went down. Nothing had been
done on board the admiral's ship , for
Krantz was under arrest , and the ad
miral had retired in a state of fury to
his cabin.
In the meantime Philip and the
ship's company had not been idle ; they
had laid an anchor out astern , and hove
taut- they had started all the water ,
and 'were pumping it out , when a boat
pulled alongside , and Krantz made his
appearance on deck.
"Captain Vandcrdecken , I have come
to put myself under youi orders if you
receive me-if not , render me
m
I
your'-protection , for as sure as fate
\
should have been hanged tomorrow
morning if I had remained in my own
ship. The men in the boat have come
with the same intention that of join
ing you if you will permit them. "
Although Philip would have wished
it had been otherwise , he could not
well refuse to receive Krantz under the
circumstances of the case. He was
very partial to him- , and to save his
life , which certainly was in danger , he
would have done much more. He de
sired that the boat's crew should re
turn ; but when Krantz had stated to
him what had occurred on board the
Lion , and the crew earnestly begged
him not to send them back to almost
certain death , which tbeir having ef
fected the escape of Krantz would
have assured , Philip reluctantly allow
ed them to remain.
The night was tempestuous , but the
wind being now off short , the water
was not rough. The crew of the Dort ,
under the direction of Philip and
Krantz , succeeded in lightening the
vessel so much during the night , that
the next morning they were able to
haul her off , and found that her bottom
tom had receive no serious injury. It
was fortunate for them that they had
not discontinued their exertions , for
the wind shifted a few hours before
sunrise , and by the time that they had
shipped their rudder , it came on to
blow fresh down the Straits , the wind
being accompanied with a heavy swell.
The admiral's ship lay aground , and
apparently no exertions were used to
get her off. Philip was much puzzled
how to act ; leave the crew of the Lion
he could not ; nor indeed could he re
fuse , nor did he wish to refuse the ad
miral , if he proposed coming on board ;
but he now made that it should only
be as a passenger , and that he would
himself retain the command. At pres
ent he contented himself with dropping
his anchor outside , clear of the reef ,
where he was sheltered by a bluff cape ,
under which the water was smooth ,
about a mile distant from where the
admiral's ship lay on shore ; and he
employed his crew in replenishing his
water-casks from a rivulet close to
where the ship was anchored. He
waited to see if the other vessel got
off , being convinced if she did not ,
some communication must soon take
place. As soon as the water was com
plete , he sent one of his boats to the
place where the commodore had been
landed , having resolved to take him on
board if they could find him ; but the
boat returned without having seen
anything of him , although the men had
clambered over the hills to a consid
erable distance.
On the second morning after Philip
had hauled his vessel off , they observed
that the boats of the admiral's ship
were passing and repassing from the
shore , landing her stores and pro
visions ; and the next day , from the
tents pitched on shore , it was evident
that she was abandoned , although the
boats were still engaged in taking ar
ticles out of her. That night it blew
fresh , and the sea was heavy ; the next
morning the masts were gone , and she
turned on her broadside ; she was evi
dently a wreck , and Philip now con
sulted with Krantz how to act. To
leave the crew of the Lion on shore
was impossible ; they must all perish
when the winter set in upon such a
desolate coast. On the whole , it was
considered advisable that the first
communication should come from the
other party , and Philip resolved to re
main quietly at anchor.
It was very plain that there was no
longer any subordination among the
crew of the Lion , who were to be seen ,
in the day-time climbing over the
rocks in every direction , and at night ,
when their large fires were lighted ,
carousing and drinking. This waste of
provisions was a subject of much vex
ation to Philip. He had not more than
sufficient for his own crew , and he took
it for granted that , as soon as what
they had taken on shore should be ex
pended , the crew of the Lion would
ask to be received on board of the
Dort.
For more than a week did affairs
continue in this state , when one morn
ing a boat was seen pulling toward
the ship and in the stern-sheets Philip
recognized the officer who had been
sent on board to put him under ar
rest. When the officer came on deck
he took off his hat to Philip.
"You do , then , acknowledge me as
in command ? " observed Philip.
"Yes , sir , most certainly ; you were
second in command , but now you are
first for the admiral is dead. "
"Dead ! " exclaimed Philip ; "and
how ? "
"He was found dead on the b'each
under a high cliff , and the body of the
commodore was in'his arms ; indeed ,
they were both grappled together. It
is supposed that in his walk up to the
top of the hill , which he used to take
every day , to see if any vessels might
be in the Straits , he fell in with the
commodore that they had come to
contention , and had both fallen over
the precipice together. No one saw
the meeting , but they must have fallen
over the rocks , as the bodies are dread
fully mangled. "
On inquiry , Philip ascertained that
all chance of saving the Lion had been
lost after the second night , when she
had beat in her larboard streak , and
six feet of water in the hold ; that the
crew had bean very insubordinate , and
had consumed almost all the spirits ;
and that not only all the sick had al
ready perished , but also many others
who had either fallen over the rocks ,
when they were intoxicated , or had
been found dead in the morning from
their exposure during the night.
"Then the poor commodore's pro
phecy has been fulfilled ! " observed
Philip to Krantz. "Many others , and
even the admiral himself , have per
ished with him peace be with them !
And now let us get away from this
horrible place as soon as possible. "
Philip then gave orders to the of
ficer to collect his men , and the pro
visions that remained , for immediate
embarkation. Krantz followed soon
after with all the boat , and before
night everything was on board. The
bodies of the admiral and commodore
were buried where they lay , and the
next morning the Dort was under way ,
and with a slanting wind was laying
a fair course through the Straits , to
ward Batavia , and anchored in the
roads three weeks after the combat had
taken place. He found the remainder
of the fleet , which had been dispatched
before them and had ai rived there re
cently , had taken in their cargoes and
were ready to sail for Holland. Philip
wrote his dispatches , in which he com
municated to the directors the events
of the voyage ; and then went on shore
to reside at the house cf the merchant
who had formerly received him , until
t-e Dort could be freighted for her
voyage home.
CHAPTER XXII.
The cargo of the Dort was soon
ready , and Philip sailed and arrived at
Amsterdam without any further ad
venture. That he reached his cottage ,
and was received with delight by
Amine , need hardly be said. She had
been expecting bim ; for the two ships
of the squadron , which had sailed on
his arrival at Batavia , and which had
charge of his dispatches , had , of
course , carried letters from him dur
ing his voyages. Six weeks after the
letters , Philip himself made his ap
pearance , and Amine was happy. The
directors were , of course , highly sat
isfied with Philip's conduct , and he
was appointed to the command of a
large armed ship , which was to pro
ceed to India in the spring , and one-
third of which , according to agree
ment , was purchased by Philip out of
the funds which he had in the hands
of the company. He had now five
months of quiet and repose to pass
away previous to his oice more trust
ing to the elements ; and this time , as
it was agreed , he had to make arrange
ments on board for the reception of
Amine.
The winter passed rapidly away , for
it was passed by Philip in quiet and
happiness ; the spring came on , the
vessel was to be fitted out , and Philip
and Amine repaired to Amsterdam.
The Utrecht was the name of the
vessel to which he had been appointed ,
a ship of four hundred tons , newly
launched and pierced for twenty-four
guns. Two more months passed away ,
during which Philip superintended the
fitting , and loading of the vessel , as
sisted by his favorite Krantz , who
served in her as first mate. Every
convenience and comfort that Philip
could think of was prepared for
Amine ; and in the month of May he
started , with orders to stop at Gam-
broou and Ceylon , run down the
Straits of Sumatra , and from thence to
force his way into the China seas , the
company having every reason to expect
from the Portuguese the most deter
mined opposition to the attempt. His
ship's company was numerous , and he
had a small detachment of soldiers on
board to assist the supercargo , who
carried out many thousand dollars to
make purchases at ports in China ,
where their goods might not be ap
preciated. Every care had been taken
in the equipment of the vessel , which
was perhaps the finest , the best
manned and freighted with the most
valuable cargo , which had ever been
sent out by the India Company.
( To be continued. )
STRATFORD-ON-AVON.
Important Improvements Since the Time
of William Shakespeare.
The clerical staff , postmen , rural
messengers , and others connected with
the Stratford postoffice , and the sub-
postmasters of the district , were en
tertained at supper at the Unicorn
hotel on Tuesday night , this being the
twenty-seventh annual gathering. The
mayor ( W. Pearce ) presided , and
was supported by a number of the
leading tradesmen , the vice chair be
ing occupied by E. B. Wynn. Respond
ing for "Our Postmistress" ( proposed
by G. Boyden ) , Mr. Doonan , ( chief
clerk ) spoke of the great increase of
work at the Stratford postoffice. With
in the last few years the clerical staff
has been doubled and the number of
telegrams was increased at the rate of
10,000 a year. The year 1897 showed
an increase of 10,000 over those of 1896 ,
and now , from the returns just made
up , it appeared that there was a fur
ther increase of 10,000 over those of
1897. ( Applause. ) The telephone was
about to be added , the clerical staff
was to be further increased , the duplex
system of telegraphy had been author
ized in order to cope with the in
creased work and , notwithstanding
that the postoffice had been built only
a few years , some important structural
alterations and enlargements had be
come imperative and were about to be
carried put. ( Applause. ) All this
showed that they were progressing at a
most satisfactory rate , and he looked
forward to further important develop
ments. Birmingham Post.
\VItli Apologies to A. Pope.
Hope springs eternal in the human
breast ,
But all too oft it gets knocked ga-1-
ley west.
'
*
,
I A Memorial
I Reunion.
By GILBERTE HOLT.
U S I N B S S had
brought him to his
native town in the
sunny south. He
was in haste that
liis mission should
be concluded 30
that he might get
away from the
quiet , sleepy vil-
lage. The very
beauty of its frag
rant spring dress saddened him.
In a timid , hesitating way he had
made a few inquires for old friends ,
but the answer was ever the same.
War had scattered most of the old fam
ilies. Those alone remained who slept
in the peaceful cemetery in the dip
which formed a vale at the bend in
the river.
"And the Ralstons ? "
All were gene. Of the impetuous ,
high spirited family , only Miss Erma
was still alive. The Ralston boys
four of them lay in soldiers' graves
beside their gallant father.
Mrs. Ralston had seen her brave
boys brought horn dead one by one.
But she gave them for her country's
sake , gladly , but her heart was slowly
breaking. She did not long survive
her husband.
"Did Miss Erma still live at Ironwood -
wood ? "
No. The old plantation was desolate
and Miss Ralston lived in a little white
cottage dov/n the road , the one al
most smothered in jasmine red roses.
The gentleman took his cane and
with a brisk step which told of some
young blood still flowing in his veias ,
started down the street in the warm
spring sunshine. The square shoul
ders , erect head and firm tread all be
spoke the soldier.
As he came in sight of Miss Erma's
house his steady walk became jerky
and finally settled into an uncertain
amble. For the fraction of a second
he paused at her gate , then beat a
hasty and confused retreat. Complete
ly out of breath he drew up beside the
high arched gate which opened upon
the soldiers' last tenting ground.
"By Jove ! It's no use. I couldn't
"WHY , THAT'S MY NAME. "
face her , " and the old man mopped his
brow. "Whew , how her eyes did blaze !
Facing a cannon is play to standing
the fire of Erma's angry eyes. "
He leaned against the post. The
light died out of his face and he
thought of that long away time when
he and Erma had been lovers. And
then came the war. How quickly had
followed that awful day when he went
to say farewell and she would not loolc
(
at him. because he wore the hated
blue. He tried to argue , tried to per
suade , but she would not listen.
She was a southern girl Col. Ral-
ston's daughter. If he fought the
south , he fought her and was her dead
ly foe. Was it not cruei enough that
the dreadful war should deprive her
of her lover , without calling him to
fight against instead of for her ?
How clearly he could see her as she
stood then en the low , wide steps , a
slim , girlish figure clad in clinging
white. Her cheeks were flushed and
her mouth tremulous , but the chin was
firmly set. All through the war he
had carried in his heart the memory
of her as she stood in the sunshine ,
framed by the stately pillars of the
gallery ; while he , with despair In his
heart , but a dogged determination in
his eyes , turned , when half way down
the broad avenue of live oaks , and lift
ing his union cap murmured , "God
keep my southern sweetheart ! "
How often he recalled her words.
He could almost hear them now. "Go.
You are a traitor. I never want to see
your face again. "
The old man shook his head ser
rowfully. No , she would never forgive
him , not even now after all these
years. Well , he would go back north
on the morrow , so what matter ?
He and the Ralston boys had been
college students together. He would
pay a visit to their last resting place.
He opened the gate and slowly made
his way among the flower-covered
mounds. When he reached the Ral
ston lot. he looked about him sorrow
fully. He felt sadly desolate. He
alone was left of all those merry ,
laughing fellows.
Presently his eye wandered to a
grave somewhat apart from the rest.
The scarcity of its flowers drew his at
tention to it. He wandered idly to
ward it , thinking , "Some poor friend
less chap. "
He started and then dropped upon
his knees in his eagerness to read the
simple inscription on the headstone. It
ran :
"MERRILL FREMONT. "
"Born 1S3S. Killed at Gettysburg.
1S63. "
"Why , that's my name ! " and the
old man looked about him in a dazed
manner as though for a moment he
doubted his identity.
"Yea. my name is Merrill Fremont
and I was born in ' 3S , but though I
was wounded I did not die at Gettys
burg. A union soldier in a confederate
graveyard. Ah , that accounted for the
lack of memorial flowers , " and he
smiled grimly. "But I'm not dead , "
and he thumped his cane vigorously
upon the gravel path.
He leaned his hands on his stick
and stood gazing intently at his own
name.
"It isn't me but it is some union
soldier buried for me , and he shall
have some flowers. Yes. I'll deco
rate my own grave. " and with a
chuckle Merrill Fremont started brisk
ly down the path.
As he neared the gate it opened , anil
a tall , slender figure clad In black en
tered , followed by an old negro fairly
staggering under the weight of mag
nolia blossoms. Something familiar in
the two figures made Fremont pause.
But they did not notice him. The lady
turned up a side path and walked
quickly toward the end of the grounds
Merrill had just quitted , followed more
slowly by the old serving man.
Merrill faced about and watched
them. He was certain now that the
woman was Erma. He expected her
to enter the Ralston lot. but she only
paused , waved her hand toward the
flower-hidden graves , said something
to her attendant and passed on her way
until she stood beside the undecoratcd
grave.
Fremont rubbed his eyes and stared.
The lady motioned to negro to lay
his fragrant burden down.
Merrill hastened up the path. He
was near enough to hear the well-re
membered voice say , "You may go.
Uncle Sorney ; I'll arrange the flowers
myself. "
The servant shuflled away down the
path he had come , while his mistress
knelt to place the blossoms.
Merrill Fremont paused , hat In hand
Erma believed him dead and forgave
him. How would it be when she focaJ
him alive. He stood in dumb uncer
tainty. She was his only love and re
lose her again would be more terrible
than not to have found her. Dead.
she surely loved him ; her action prov
ed It. Would he not better go a-aray
in the certainty of that love thaa. by
staying , perhaps revive the old bitter
ness which his return to her uahanse
while all her beloved family lay dead.
might recall ?
He was about to retreat. Itas too
late , the lady turned and saw hiin. He
stood awkwardly before her. She tool
ed at him in puzzled inquiry.
Suddenly he cried out "Eraa. "
She moved back a pace in surprise at
being so addressed by an
stranger.
Once his tongue loosened Merrill
her no chance to escape , la
incoherent words he poured fortli si *
SUDDENLY HE CRISD OUT.
"ERMA. "
mistaken report of hi ? death hi *
his sorrow for her grief , and at last , n
earnest pica that she would j rev SMTP
kind than in the past.
As she listened a delicate Slush crpt
into the lady's pale , sweet face. The
shadow that rested in the deep , blu *
eyes lifted. She looked searchingly
the man before her. Could this really
be her young lover , returned In Uw
guise of this impetuous elderly man"
She had neve rthousht of him save as
the soldier boy who had gone away at
her bidding. At last she seemed ta
understand. For a moment the corners
of the lovely mouth forgot to droop.
By the light of memory the man ami
woman grew young again.
When hU torrent of words ceased
she stood silent for some moments.aaU
then held out her hand as she sotllj
said :
" ' \Ve banish our anger forever
When we laurel the graves of out
dead. ' "
Flovr n Won Her.
"If I wen a man. " she said , "you
would not tlnd mo here today. IM lie
away , lighting for my country. "
"If you were a man. " he replied ,
"you wouldn't flnd me here today cith
er. 1. too. would bo away lighting tor
my country "
After that all he had to do wna to
gain paps "a consent. " Cleveland
Leader.
Confined Vupll.
On one occasion the Prince of Wak's
had . hearty laugh at a Hindu school
boy in Madras. The youngsters Imd
been drilled Into the propriety of snxy.
ing "Your Royal Highness" should
the prince speak to them , and when
Clio heir apparent accosted a bright-
eyed lad and. pointing to a prismatic
I'omimss , asked : "What Is this ? " the
youngster , all in a flutter , replied : "It's
, i royal compass , your prismatic high
ness. "