Mrs. Cliff sighed. It was a great pity to have taken so much trouble, especially when time was so precious, but she had done what she could. It would be impossible for her to find the members in their temporary places of abode, and the only thing she could do now was to tell them the change in her plans when they came on board that evening, and then, if they did not care to sail with her, they would have plenty of time to go on shore again.



CHAPTER XXII

THE "SUMMER SHELTER" GOES TO SEA

Mr. Burke did not arrive to escort Mrs. Cliff and Willy Croup to the yacht until nearly nine o'clock in the evening. They had sent their baggage to the vessel in the afternoon, and had now been expecting him, with great impatience, for nearly an hour, but when Mr. Burke arrived, it was impossible to find fault with him, for he had been busy, he said, every minute of the day.

He had made up a full crew; he had a good sailing-master, and the first mate who had been on the yacht before; everything that he could think of in the way of provisions and stores were on board, and there was nothing to prevent their getting out of the harbor early in the morning.

When Mrs. Cliff stepped on board her yacht, the Summer Shelter, her first thought was directed towards her guests of the Synod; and when the mate, Mr. Burdette, had advanced and been introduced to her, she asked him if any of the clergymen had yet appeared.

"They're all aboard, madam," said he—"fourteen of them! They came aboard about seven o'clock, and they stayed in the saloon until about half-past nine, and one of them came to me and said that as they were very tired they thought they'd go to bed, thinking, most likely, as it was then so late you wouldn't come aboard until morning. So the steward showed them their state-rooms, and we had to get one more ready than we expected to, and they're now all fast asleep; but I suppose I could arouse some of them up if you want to see them!"

Mrs. Cliff turned to Burke with an expression of despair on her face. "What in the world shall I do?" said she. "I wanted to tell them all about it and let them decide, but it would be horrible to make any of them who didn't care to go to get up and dress and go out into this damp night air to look for a hotel!"

"Well," said Burke, "all that's going ashore has got to go ashore to-night. We'll sail as soon as it is daylight! If I was you, Mrs. Cliff, I wouldn't bother about them. You invited them to go to the Bahamas, and you're going to take them there, and you're going to send them back the best way you can, and I'm willing to bet a clipper ship against your yacht that they will be just as well satisfied to come back in a regular steamer as to come back in this! You might offer to send them over to Savannah, and let them come up by rail,—they might like that for a change! The way the thing looks to me, madam, you're proposing to give them a good deal more than you promised."

"Well," said Mrs. Cliff, "one thing is certain! I'm not going to turn any of them out of their warm beds this night; and we might as well go to our rooms, for it must be a good deal after ten."

When Willy Croup beheld her little state-room, she stood at the door and looked in at it with rapture. She had a beautiful chamber in Mrs. Cliff's new house, fully and elegantly furnished, but there was something about this little bit of a bedroom, with all its nautical conveniences, its hooks, and shelves, and racks, its dear little window, and its two pretty berths,—each just big enough and not a bit too big,—which charmed her as no room she had ever seen had charmed her.

The Summer Shelter must have started, Mrs. Cliff thought, before daylight the next morning, for when she was awakened by the motion of the engine it was not light enough to distinguish objects in the room. But she lay quietly in her berth, and let her proud thoughts mount high and spread wide. As far as the possession of wealth and the sense of power could elevate the soul of woman, it now elevated the soul of Mrs. Cliff.

This was her own ship which was going out upon the ocean! This was her engine which was making everything shake and tremble! The great screw which was dashing the water at the stern and forcing the vessel through the waves belonged to her! Everything—the smoke-stacks, the tall masts, the nautical instruments—was her property! The crew and stewards, the engineers, were all in her service! She was going to the beautiful island of the sunny tropics because she herself had chosen to go there!

It was with great satisfaction, too, that she thought of the cost of all this. A great deal of money had been paid for that yacht, and it had relieved, as scarcely any other expenditure she would be likely to make could have relieved, the strain upon her mind occasioned by the pressure of her income. Even after the building of her new apartments her money had been getting the better of her. Now she felt that she was getting the better of her money.

By the way the yacht rolled and, at the same time, pitched and tossed, Mrs. Cliff thought it likely that they must be out upon the open sea, or, at least, well down the outer bay. She liked the motion, and the feeling that her property, moving according to her will, was riding dominant over the waves of the sea, sent a genial glow through every vein. It was now quite light, and when Mrs. Cliff got up and looked out of her round window she could see, far away to the right, the towering lighthouses of Sandy Hook.

About eight o'clock she dressed and went out on deck. She was proud of her good sailing qualities. As she went up the companion-way, holding firmly to the bright brass rail, she felt no more fear of falling than if she had been one of the crew. When she came out on the upper deck, she had scarcely time to look about her, when a man, whom at first sight she took for a stranger, came forward with outstretched hand. But in an instant she saw it was not a stranger,—it was Captain Burke, but not as she had ever seen him before. He was dressed in a complete suit of white duck with gold buttons, and he wore a white cap trimmed with gold,—an attire so different from his high silk hat and the furs that it was no wonder that at first she did not recognize their wearer.

"Why, Captain Burke," she cried, "I didn't know you!"

"No wonder," said he; "this is a considerable change from my ordinary toggery, but it's the uniform of a captain of a yacht; you see that's different from what it would be if I commanded a merchant vessel, or a liner, or a man-of-war!"

"It looks awfully cool for such weather," said she.

"Yes," said the Captain, "but it's the proper thing; and yachts, you know, generally cruise around in warmish weather. However, we're getting south as fast as we can. I tell you, madam, this yacht is a good one! We've just cast the log, and she's doing better than fourteen knots an hour, and we haven't got full steam on, either! It seems funny, madam, for me to command a steamer, but I'll get used to it in no time. If it was a sailing-vessel, it wouldn't be anything out of the way, because I've studied navigation, and I know more about a ship than many a skipper, but a steam yacht is different! However, I've got men under me who know how to do what I order them to do, and if necessary they're ready to tell me what I ought to order!"

"I don't believe there could be a better captain," said Mrs. Cliff, "and I do hope you won't take cold! And now I want to see the ministers as soon as they are ready. I think it will be well for me to receive them up here. I am not sure that I remember properly the names of all of them, but I shall not hesitate to ask them, and then I shall present each one of them to you: it will be a sort of a reception, you know! After that we can all go on pleasantly like one family. We will have to have a pretty big table in the saloon, but I suppose we can manage that!"

"Oh yes," said Mr. Burke; "and now I'll see the steward and tell him to let the parsons know that you're ready to receive them."

About a quarter of an hour after this the steward appeared on deck, and approaching Mrs. Cliff and the Captain, touched his hat. "Come to report, sir," said he, "the ministers are all sea-sick! There ain't none of them wants to get out of their berths, but some of them want tea."

Mrs. Cliff and the Captain could not help laughing, although she declared it was not a laughing matter.

"But it isn't surprising," said the Captain; "it's pretty rough, and I suppose they're all thorough-bred landsmen. But they'll get over it before long, and when they come on deck it's likely it will be pleasanter weather. We're having a considerable blow just now, and it will be worse when we get farther out! So I should say that you and Miss Croup and myself had better have our breakfast."

The steward was still standing by, and he touched his hat again, this time to Mrs. Cliff.

"The other lady is very sea-sick! I heard her groaning fearfully as I passed her door."

"Oh, I must go down to Willy," said Mrs. Cliff. "And, Captain, you and I will have to breakfast together."

As Mrs. Cliff opened the door of Willy Croup's state-room, a pale white face in the lower berth was turned towards her, and a weak and trembling voice said to her, "Oh, Sarah, you have come at last! Is there any way of getting me out of this horrible little hole?"

For two days Mrs. Cliff and Captain Burke breakfasted, dined, and supped by themselves. They had head-winds, and the sea was very rough, and although the yacht did not make the time that might have been expected of her in fair weather, she did very well, and Burke was satisfied. The two stewards were kept very busy with the prostrate and dejected members of the Synod, and Mrs. Cliff and the stewardess devoted their best efforts to the alleviation of the woes of Willy, which they were glad to see were daily dwindling.

They had rounded Cape Hatteras, the sea was smoother, the cold wind had gone down, and Willy Croup, warmly wrapped up, was sitting in a steamer chair on deck. The desire that she might suddenly be transferred to Plainton or to heaven was gradually fading out of her mind, and the blue sky, the distant waves, and the thought of the approaching meal were exercising a somewhat pleasurable influence upon her dreamy feeling, when Captain Burke, who stood near with a telescope, announced that the steamer over there on the horizon line was heading south and that he had a notion she was the Antonina, the vessel on which Shirley had sailed.

"I believed that we could overhaul her!" said he to Mrs. Cliff. "I didn't know much about her sailing qualities, but I had no reason to believe she has the speed of this yacht, and, as we're on the same course, I thought it likely we would sight her, and what's more, pass her. We'll change our course a little so that we will be closer to her when we pass."

Mrs. Cliff, who had taken the glass, but could not see through it very well, returned it to the Captain and remarked, "If we can go so much faster than she does, why can't we take Mr. Shirley on board when we catch up to her?"

"I don't know about that," said Burke. "To do that, both vessels would have to lay to and lose time, and she might not want to do it as she's a regular steamer, and carries the mail. And besides, if Shirley's under orders,—that is, the same thing as orders,—to go straight to Jamaica, I don't know that we have any right to take him off his steamer and carry him to Nassau. Of course, he might get to Jamaica just as soon, and perhaps sooner, if he sailed with us, but we don't know it! We may be delayed in some way; there're lots of things that might happen, and anyway, I don't believe in interfering with orders, and I know Shirley doesn't either. I believe he would want to keep on. Besides, we don't really know yet that that's the Antonina."

A couple of hours, however, proved that Captain Burke's surmise had been correct, and it was not long before the two vessels were abreast of each other. The yacht had put on all steam and had proved herself capable of lively speed. As the two vessels approached within hailing distance, Captain Burke went up on the little bridge, with a speaking-trumpet, and it was not long before Shirley was on the bridge of the other steamer, with another trumpet.

To the roaring conversation which now took place, everybody on each vessel who was not too sick, who had no duties, or could be spared from them, listened with the most lively interest. A colloquy upon the lonely sea between two persons, one upon one vessel and the other upon another, must always be an incident of absorbing importance.

Very naturally Shirley was amazed to find it was his friend Burke who was roaring at him, and delighted when he was informed that the yacht was also on its way to Jamaica to meet Captain Horn. After a quarter of an hour of high-sounding talk, during which Shirley was informed of Burke's intention to touch at Nassau, the interview terminated; the Summer Shelter shaping her course a little more to the south, by night-fall the Antonina had faded out of sight on the northeast horizon.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Captain Burke at dinner, "if we got to Jamaica before her anyway, although we're bound to lose time in the harbor at Nassau."

The company at the dinner-table was larger than it had yet been. Five members of the Synod had appeared on deck during the speaking-trumpet conversation, and feeling well enough to stay there, had been warmly greeted and congratulated by Mrs. Cliff. The idea of a formal reception had, of course, been given up, and there was no need of presenting these gentlemen to the Captain, for he had previously visited all of his clerical passengers in their berths, and was thus qualified to present them to Mrs. Cliff as fast as they should make their appearance. At dinner-time two more came into the saloon, and the next morning at breakfast the delegation from the Synod were all present, with the exception of two whose minds were not yet quite capable of properly appreciating the subject of nutrition.

When at last the Summer Shelter found herself in the smoother waters and the warmer air of the Gulf Stream, when the nautilus spread its gay-colored sail in the sunlight by the side of the yacht, when the porpoises flashed their shining black bodies out of the water and plunged in again as they raced with the swiftly moving vessel, when great flocks of flying-fish would rise into the air, skim high above the water, and then all fall back again with a patter as of big rain-drops, and the people on the deck of the Summer Shelter took off their heavy wraps and unbuttoned their coats, it was a happy company which sailed with Mrs. Cliff among the beautiful isles of the West Indies.



CHAPTER XXIII

WILLY CROUP COMES TO THE FRONT

The pleasant rays of the semi-tropical sun so warmed and subsequently melted the varied dispositions of the company on board the Summer Shelter that in spite of their very different natures they became fused, as it were, into a happy party of friends.

Willy Croup actually felt as if she were a young woman in a large party of gentlemen with no rivals. She was not young, but many of her youthful qualities still remained with her, and under the influence of her surroundings they all budded out and blossomed bravely. At the end of a day of fine weather there was not a clergyman on board who did not wish that Miss Croup belonged to his congregation.

As for the members of the Synod, there could be no doubt that they were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Tired with the long winter's work, and rejoiced, almost amazed, to be so suddenly freed from the cold wintry weather of their homes, all of their spirits rose and most of their hearts were merry.

There were but few gray heads among these clergymen, and the majority of them were under middle age. Some of them had been almost strangers to each other when they came on board, but now there were no strangers on the Summer Shelter. Some of them had crossed the Atlantic, but not one had ever taken a coastwise voyage on a comparatively small vessel, and although the consequence of this new experience, their involuntary seclusion of the first days of the trip, and their consequent unconventional and irregular acceptance of Mrs. Cliff's hospitality, had caused a little stiffness in their demeanor at first, this speedily disappeared, hand in hand with the recollection of that most easily forgotten of human ills which had so rudely interfered with their good manners.

As far as the resources of their portmanteaus would allow, these reverend clergymen dressed themselves simply and in semi-nautical costumes. Some played quoits upon the upper deck, in which sport Willy joined. Others climbed up the shrouds, preferably on the inside,—this method of exercise, although very difficult, being considered safer in case of a sudden lurch of the vessel. And the many other sportive things they did, and the many pleasant anecdotes they told, nearly all relating to the discomfiture of clergymen under various embarrassing circumstances, caused Captain Burke to say to Mrs. Cliff that he had never imagined that parsons were such jolly fellows, and so far as he was concerned, he would be glad to take out another party of them.

"But if we do," he said, "I think we'd better ship them on a tug and let them cruise around the Lightship for two or three days. Then when they hoisted a signal that they were all well on board, we could go out and take them off. In that way, you see, they'd really enjoy a cruise on the Summer Shelter."

As the sun went down behind the distant coast of Florida they were boarded by a negro pilot, and in the morning they awoke to find themselves fast to a pier of the city of Nassau, lying white in the early daylight.

The members of the Synod had readily agreed to Mrs. Cliff's plan to leave them at Nassau and let them return by a regular passenger steamer, and they all preferred to go by sea to Savannah and then to their homes by rail. With expenses paid, none but the most unreasonable of men could have objected to such a plan.

As Captain Burke announced that he would stop at Nassau for a day to take in some fresh stores, especially of fruit and vegetables, and to give Mrs. Cliff and Willy Croup an opportunity to see the place, the Summer Shelter was soon deserted. But in the evening, everybody returned on board, as the company wished to keep together as long as possible, and there would be plenty of time in the morning for the members of the Synod to disembark and go to the hotel.

Very early in the morning Captain Burke was aroused by the entrance of the sailing-master, Mr. Portman, into his state-room. "'Morning, sir," said Mr. Portman. "I want you to come out here and look at something!"

Perceiving by the manner and tones of the other that there was something important to be looked at, Captain Burke jumped up, quickly dressed himself, and went out on deck. There, fastened against the fore-mast, was a large piece of paper on which were written these words:—

"We don't intend to sail on a filibustering cruise. We know what it means when you take on arms in New York, and discharge your respectable passengers in Nassau. We don't want nothing to do with your next lot of passengers, and don't intend to get into no scrapes. So good-bye!

(Signed) The Crew."



"You don't mean to say," cried Burke, "that the crew has deserted the vessel?"

"That's what it is, sir," said Mr. Burdette, the first mate, who had just joined them. "The crew has cleared out to a man! Mr. Portman and I are left, the engineer's left and his assistant,—they belonged to the yacht and don't have much to do with the crew,—but the rest's all gone! Deckhands, stewards, and even the cook. The stewardess must have gone too, for I haven't seen her."

"What's the meaning of all this," shouted Burke, his face getting very red. "When did they go, and why did they go?"

"It's the second mate's watch, and he is off with them," said Mr. Burdette. "I expect he's at the bottom of it. He's a mighty wary fellow. Just as like as not he spread the report that we were going on a filibustering expedition to Cuba, and the ground for it, in my opinion, is those cases of arms you opened the other day!"

"I think that is it, sir," said Mr. Portman. "You know there's a rising in Cuba, and there was lots of talk about filibustering before we left. I expect the people thought that the ladies were going on shore the same as the parsons."

Burke was confounded. He knew not what to say or what to think, but seeing Mrs. Cliff appearing at the head of the companion-way, he thought it his first duty to go and report the state of affairs to her, which he did. That lady's astonishment and dismay were very great.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "And what do you mean by the cases of arms?"

"I'm afraid that was a piece of folly on my part," said Burke.

"I didn't know we had arms on board!"

"Well, what we have don't amount to much," said Burke. "But this was the way of it. After I heard the message from Captain Horn about the pirates, and everything, and as I didn't know exactly what sort of craft we would meet round about Jamaica, I thought we would feel a good deal safer, especially on account of you and Miss Croup, if we had some firearms aboard. So I put in some repeating rifles and ammunition, and I paid for them out of my own pocket! Such things always come in useful, and while I was commanding the vessel on which you were sailing, Mrs. Cliff, I didn't want to feel that I'd left anything undone which ought to be done. Of course, there was no reason to suppose that we would ever have to use them, but I knew I would feel better if I had them. But there was one thing I needn't have done, and that was,—I needn't have opened them, which I did the other day in company with Mr. Burdette, because I hadn't had time before to examine them, and I wanted to see what they were. Some of the crew must have noticed the guns, and as they couldn't think why we wanted them, unless we were going on a filibustering expedition, they got that notion into their heads and so cut the ship. It was easy enough to do it, for we were moored to a pier, and the second mate, whose watch they went away in, was most likely at the head of the whole business!"

"But what are we going to do?" asked Mrs. Cliff.

"I must get another crew just as soon as I can," said he, "and there isn't a minute to be lost! I was stretching a point when I agreed to stop over a day, but I thought we could afford that and reach Kingston as soon as Shirley does, but when he gets there with his message to the Captain of the Dunkery Beacon, I want to be on hand. There's no knowing what will have to be done, or what will have to be said. I don't want Shirley to think that he's got nobody to stand by him!"

"Indeed," said Mrs. Cliff, "we ought to lose no time, for Captain Horn may be there. It is a most dreadful misfortune to lose the crew this way! Can't you find them again? Can't you make them come back?"

"If they don't want to be found," said Burke, "it will take a good while to find them. But I'm going on shore this minute, and I wish you would be good enough to tell Miss Croup and the ministers how matters stand!"

The news of the desertion of the crew when told by Mrs. Cliff to those of the passengers who had come on deck, and speedily communicated by these to their companions, created a great sensation. Willy Croup was so affected that she began to cry. "Is there any danger?" she said; "and hadn't we better go on shore? Suppose some other vessel wanted to come up to this wharf, and we had to move away,—there's nobody to move us! And suppose we were to get loose in some way, there's nobody to stop us!"

"You are very practical, Miss Croup," remarked the Reverend Mr. Hodgson, the youngest clergyman on board. "But I am sure you need not have the least fear. We are moored firm and fast, and I have no doubt Captain Burke will soon arrive with the necessary men to take you to Jamaica."

Willy dried her eyes, and then she said, "There's another practical thing I'm thinking of,—there isn't any breakfast, and the cook's gone! But I believe we can arrange that. I could cook the breakfast myself if I had anybody to help me. I'll go speak to Mrs. Cliff."

Mrs. Cliff was decidedly of the opinion that they all ought to have breakfast, and that she and Willy could at least make coffee, and serve the passengers with bread and butter and preserved meats, but she remarked to Mr. Hodgson that perhaps the gentlemen would rather go to their hotels and get their breakfast.

"No indeed," said Mr. Hodgson, a stout, sun-browned fellow, who looked more like a hunter than a clergyman. "We have been talking over the matter, and we are not going to desert you until the new men come. And as to breakfast, here are Mr. Litchfield and myself ready to serve as stewards, assistants, cooks, or in any culinary capacity. We both have camped out and are not green hands. So you must let us help you, and we shall consider it good fun."

"It will be funny," said Willy, "to see a minister cook! So let's go down to the kitchen. I know where it is, for I've been in it!"

"I think, Miss Croup," said Mr. Litchfield, a tall young man with black hair and side whiskers, and a good deal of manner, "that you should say galley or caboose, now that we are all nautical together."

"Well, I can't cook nautical," said Willy, "and I don't intend to try! But I guess you can eat the food if it isn't strictly naval."

In a few minutes the volunteer cooks were all at work, and Willy's familiarity with household affairs, even when exhibited under the present novel conditions, shone out brightly. She found some cold boiled potatoes, and soon set Mr. Hodgson to work frying them. Mrs. Cliff took the coffee in hand with all her ante-millionnaire skill, and Willy skipped from one thing to another, as happy as most people are whose ability has suddenly forced them to the front.

"Oh, you ought to see the Synod setting the table!" she cried, bursting into the galley. "They're getting things all wrong, but it doesn't matter, and they seem to be enjoying it. Now then, Mr. Litchfield, I think you have cut all the bread that can possibly be eaten!"

Mr. Burdette had gone on shore with the Captain, and Mr. Portman considered it his duty to remain on deck, but the volunteer corps of cooks and stewards did their work with hearty good-will, and the breakfast would have been the most jolly meal that they had yet enjoyed together if it had not been for the uncertainty and uneasiness naturally occasioned by the desertion of the crew.

It was after ten o'clock when Captain Burke and Mr. Burdette returned. "We're in a bad fix," said the former, approaching Mrs. Cliff, who, with all the passengers, had been standing together watching them come down the pier. "There was a steamer cleared from here the day before yesterday which was short-handed, and seems to have carried off all the available able seamen in the port. But I believe that is all stuff and nonsense! the real fact seems to be,—and Mr. Burdette and I've agreed on that point,—that the report has got out that we're filibusters, and nobody wants to ship with us! Everything looks like it, you see. Here we come from New York with a regular lot of passengers, but we've got arms on board, and we drop the passengers here and let them go home some other way, and we sail on, saying we're bound for Jamaica—for Cuba is a good deal nearer, you know. But the worst thing is this, and I'm bound to tell it so that you can all know how the case stands and take care of yourselves as you think best. There's reason to believe that if the government of this place has not already had its eye on us, it will have its eye on us before very long, and for my part I'd give a good deal of money to be able to get away before they do; but without a crew we can't do it!"

Mrs. Cliff and Burke now retired to consult. "Madam," said he, "I'm bound to ask you as owner, what do you think we ought to do? If you take my advice, the first thing to be done is to get rid of the ministers. You can settle with them about their travelling and let them go to their hotels. Then perhaps I can rake up a few loafers, landsmen, or anybody who can shovel coal or push on a capstan bar, and by offering them double wages get them to ship with us. Once in Jamaica, we shall be all right!"

"But don't you think it will be dangerous," said Mrs. Cliff, "to go around offering extra pay in this way?"

"That may be," he answered, "but what else is there to do?"

At this moment Mr. Litchfield approached. "Madam," said he, "we have been discussing the unfortunate circumstances in which you find yourself placed, and we now ask if you have made any plans in regard to your future action?"

"The circumstances are truly unfortunate," replied Mrs. Cliff; "for we are anxious to get to Jamaica as soon as possible on account of very important business, and I don't see how we are to do it. We have made no plans, except that we feel it will be well for you gentlemen to leave us and go to your hotel, where you can stay until the steamer will sail for Savannah day after to-morrow. As for ourselves, we don't know what we are going to do. Unless, indeed, some sort of a vessel may be starting for Jamaica, and in that case we could leave the Summer Shelter here and go on her."

"No," said Burke, "I thought of that and inquired. Nothing will sail under a week, and in that time everybody we want to see may have left Jamaica!"

"Will you excuse me for a few minutes?" said Mr. Litchfield, and with that he returned to his companions.

"Captain," said Willy, "won't you come down and have your breakfast? I don't believe you have eaten a thing, and you look as if you needed it!"

Captain Burke really did look as if he needed a good many things,—among others, a comb and a brush. His gold-trimmed cap was pushed on the back of his head; his white coat was unbuttoned, and the collar turned in; and his countenance was troubled by the belief that his want of prudence had brought Mrs. Cliff and her property into a very serious predicament.

"Thank you," said he, "but I can't eat. Breakfast is the last thing I can think of just now!"

Now approached Mr. Litchfield, followed by all his clerical brethren. "Madam," said he, "we have had a final consultation and have come to make a proposition to you and the Captain. We do not feel that we would be the kind of men we would like to think we are, if, after all your kindness and great consideration, we should step on shore and continue the very delightful programme you have laid out for us, while you are left in doubt, perplexity, and perhaps danger, on your yacht. There are five of us who feel that they cannot join in the offer which I am about to make to you and the Captain, but the rest of us wish most earnestly and heartily to offer you our services—if you think they are worth anything—to work this vessel to Jamaica. It is but a trip of a few days I am told, and I have no doubt that we can return to New York from Kingston almost as conveniently as we can from here. We can all write home and arrange for any contingencies which may arise on account of the delay in our return. In fact, it will not be difficult for most of us to consider this excursion as a part, or even the whole, of our annual vacation. Those of us who can go with you are all able-bodied fellows, and if you say so, Captain, we will turn in and go to work this moment. We have not any nautical experience, but we all have powers of observation, and so far as I am able to judge, I believe I can do most of the things I have seen done on this vessel by your common seamen, if that is what you call them!"

Mrs. Cliff looked at Captain Burke, and he looked at her. "If it was a sailin'-vessel," he exclaimed, "I'd say she couldn't be worked by parsons, but a steamer's different! By George! madam, let's take them, and get away while we can!"



CHAPTER XXIV

CHANGES ON THE "SUMMER SHELTER"

When Captain Burke communicated to Mr. Portman and Mr. Burdette the news that nine of their passengers had offered to ship as a crew, the sailing-master and the first mate shook their heads. They did not believe that the vessel could be worked by parsons.

"But there isn't anybody else!" exclaimed Burke. "We've got to get away, and they're all able-bodied, and they have more sense than most landsmen we can ship. And besides, here are five experienced seamen on board, and I say, let's try the parsons."

"All right," said Mr. Burdette. "If you're willing to risk it, I am."

Mr. Portman also said he was willing, and the engineer and his assistant, who were getting very nervous, agreed to the plan as soon as they heard of it.

Captain Burke shook himself, pulled his cap to the front of his head, arranged his coat properly and buttoned it up, and began to give orders. "Now, then," said he, "all passengers going ashore, please step lively!" And while this lively stepping was going on, and during the leave-taking and rapid writing of notes to be sent to the homes of the clerical crew, he ordered Mr. Burdette to secure a pilot, attend to the clearance business, and make everything ready to cast off and get out of the harbor as soon as possible.

When the five reverend gentlemen who had decided not to accompany the Summer Shelter in her further voyaging had departed for the hotel, portmanteaus in hand, and amply furnished by Mrs. Cliff with funds for their return to their homes, the volunteer crew, most of them without coats or waistcoats, and all in a high picnic spirit, set to work with enthusiasm, doing more things than they knew how to do, and embarrassing Mr. Burdette a good deal by their over-willingness to make themselves useful. But this untrained alacrity was soon toned down, and early in the afternoon, the hawsers of the Summer Shelter were cast off, and she steamed out of the eastern passage of the harbor.

There were remarks made in the town after the departure of the yacht; but when the passengers who had been left behind, all clergymen of high repute, had related the facts of the case, and had made it understood that the yacht, whose filibustering purpose had been suspected by its former crew, was now manned by nine members of the Synod recently convened in Brooklyn, and under the personal direction of Mrs. Cliff, an elderly and charitable resident of Plainton, Maine, all distrust was dropped, and was succeeded in some instances by the hope that the yacht might not be wrecked before it reached Jamaica.

The pilot left the Summer Shelter; three of the clergymen shovelled coal; four of them served as deck hands; and two others ran around as assistant cooks and stewards; Mr. Portman and Mr. Burdette lent their hands to things which were not at all in their line of duty; Mrs. Cliff and Willy pared the vegetables, and cooked without ever thinking of stopping to fan themselves; while Captain Burke flew around like half-a-dozen men, with a good word for everybody, and a hand to help wherever needed. It was truly a jolly voyage from Nassau to Kingston.

The new crew was divided into messes, and Mrs. Cliff insisted that they should come to the table in the saloon, no matter how they looked or what they had been doing: on her vessel a coal-heaver off duty was as good as a Captain,—while the clergymen good-humoredly endeavored to preserve the relative lowliness of their positions, each actuated by a zealous desire to show what a good deck hand or steward he could make when circumstances demanded it.

Working hard, laughing much, eating most heartily, and sleeping well, the busy and hilarious little party on board the Summer Shelter steamed into the harbor of Kingston, after a much shorter voyage than is generally made from Nassau to that port.

"If I could get a crew of jolly parsons," cried Captain Burke, "and could give them a month's training on board this yacht, I'd rather have them than any crew that could be got together from Cape Horn to the North Pole!"

"And by the time you had made able seamen of them," said Mr. Burdette, who was of a conventional turn of mind, "they'd all go back to their pulpits and preach!"

"And preach better!" said Mr. Litchfield, who was standing by. "Yes, sir, I believe they would all preach better!"

When the anchor was dropped, not quite so promptly as it would have been done if the clerical crew had had any previous practice in this operation, Mr. Burke was about to give orders to lower a boat,—for he was anxious to get on shore as soon as possible,—when he perceived a large boat rowed by six men and with a man in the stern, rapidly approaching the yacht. If they were port officials, he thought, they were extremely prompt, but he soon saw that the man in the stern, who stood up and waved a handkerchief, was his old friend Shirley.

"He must have been watching for us," said Captain Burke to Mrs. Cliff, "and he put out from one of the wharves as soon as we hove in sight. Shirley is a good fellow! You can trust to him to look out for his friends!"

In a very short time the six powerful negro oarsmen had Shirley's boat alongside, and in a few seconds after that, he stood upon the deck of the Summer Shelter. Burke was about to spring forward to greet his old comrade, but he stepped back to give way to Mrs. Cliff, who seized the hand of Shirley and bade him a most hearty welcome, although, had she met him by herself elsewhere, she would not have recognized him in the neat travelling suit which he now wore.

Shirley was delighted to meet Burke and Mrs. Cliff, he expressed pleasure in making the acquaintance of Miss Croup, who, standing by Mrs. Cliff's side, was quickly introduced, and he looked with astonishment at the body of queer-looking men who were gathered on the deck, and who appeared to be the crew of the yacht. But he wasted no time in friendly greetings nor in asking questions, but quickly informed Burke that they were all too late, and that the Dunkery Beacon had sailed two days before.

"And weren't you here to board her?" cried Burke.

"No," said Shirley; "our steamer didn't arrive until last night!"

Burke and Mrs. Cliff looked at each other in dismay. Tears began to come into Willy Croup's eyes, as they nearly always did when anything unusual suddenly happened, and all the members of the Synod, together with Mr. Portman and Mr. Burdette, and even the two engineers, who had come up from below, pressed close around Shirley, eager to hear what next should be said.

Everybody on board had been informed during the trip from Nassau of the errand of the yacht, for Mrs. Cliff thought she would be treating those generous and kind-hearted clergymen very badly if she did not let them know the nature of the good work in which they were engaged. And so it had happened that everybody who had sailed from Nassau on the yacht had hoped,—more than that, had even expected,—for the Dunkery Beacon was known to be a very slow steamer,—to find her in the harbor of Kingston taking on goods or perhaps coaling, and now all knew that even Shirley had been too late.

"This is dreadful!" exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, who was almost on the point of imitating Willy in the matter of tears. "And they haven't any idea, of course, of the dangers which await them."

"I don't see how they could know," said Shirley, "for of course if they had known, they wouldn't have sailed!"

"Did you hear anything about her?" asked Burke. "Was she all right when she arrived?"

"I have no doubt of that!" was the answer. "I made inquiries last night about the people who would most likely be consignees here, and this morning I went to a house on Harbor Street,—Beaver & Hughes. This house, in a way, is the Jamaica agent of the owners. I got there before the office was open, but I didn't find out much. She delivered some cargo to them and had sailed on time!"

"By George!" cried Burke, "Captain Horn was right! They could hardly get a chance to safely interfere with her until she had sailed from Kingston, and now I bet they are waiting for her outside the Caribbees!"

"That's just what I thought," said Shirley; "but of course I didn't say anything to these people, and I soon found out they didn't know much except so far as their own business was concerned. It's pretty certain from what I have heard that she didn't find any letters here that would make her change her course or do anything out of the way,—but I did find something! While I was talking with one of the heads of the house, the mail from New York, which had come over in my steamer too late to be delivered the night before, was brought in, and one of the letters was a cable message from London to New York to be forwarded by mail to Jamaica, and it was directed to 'Captain Hagar, of the Dunkery Beacon, care of Beaver & Hughes.' As I had been asking about the steamer, Beaver or Hughes, whichever it was, mentioned the message. I told him on the spot that I thought it was his duty to open it, for I was very sure it was on important business. He considered for a while, saying that perhaps the proper thing was to send it on after Captain Hagar by mail; but when he had thought about it a little he said perhaps he had better open it, and he did. The words were just these:—

"'On no account leave Kingston Harbor until further orders.—Blackburn.' Blackburn is the head owner."

"What did you say then," asked Mrs. Cliff, very earnestly, "and what did he say?"

"I didn't say anything about her being a treasure ship," replied Shirley. "If it was not known in Jamaica that she was carrying that gold, I wasn't going to tell it; for there are as many black-hearted scoundrels here as in any other part of the world! But I told the Beaver & Hughes people that I also had a message for Captain Hagar, and that a friend of mine was coming to Kingston in a yacht, and that if he arrived soon I hadn't a doubt that we could overhaul the Dunkery Beacon, and give the Captain my message and the one from London besides, and that we'd try to do it, for it was very important. But they didn't know me, and they said they would wait until my friend's yacht should arrive, and then they would see about sending the message to Captain Hagar. Now, I've done enough talking, and we must do something!"

"What do you think we ought to do?" asked Burke.

"Well, I say," answered Shirley, "if you have any passengers to put ashore here, put them ashore, and then let's go after the Dunkery Beacon and deliver the message. A stern chase is a long chase, but if I'm to judge by the way this yacht caught up to the Antonina and passed her, I believe there's a good chance of overhauling the Dunkery Beacon before the pirates get hold of her. Then all she's got to do is to steam back to Kingston."

"But suppose the pirates come before she gets back," said Mrs. Cliff.

"Well, they won't fool with her if she is in company," replied Shirley. "Now, and what do you say?" he asked, addressing Burke, but glancing around at the others. "I don't know how this ship's company is made up, or how long a stop you are thinking of making here, or anything about it! But you're the owner, Mrs. Cliff, and if you lend Burke and me your yacht, I reckon he'll be ready enough to steam after the Dunkery Beacon and deliver the messages. It's a thing which Captain Horn has set his heart upon, and it's a thing which ought to be done if it can be done, and this yacht, I believe, is the vessel that can do it!"

During this speech Mr. Burke, generally so eager to speak and to act, had stood silent and troubled. He agreed with Shirley that the thing to do was to go after the Dunkery Beacon at the best speed the yacht could make. He did not believe that Mrs. Cliff would object to his sailing away with her yacht on this most important errand,—but he remembered that he had no crew. These parsons must be put off at Kingston, and although he had had no doubt whatever that he could get a crew in this port, he had expected to have a week, and perhaps more, in which to do it. To collect in an hour or two a crew which he could trust with the knowledge which would most likely come to them in some way or other that the steamer they were chasing carried untold wealth, was hardly to be thought of.

"As far as I am concerned," cried Mrs. Cliff, "my yacht may go after that steamer just as soon as she can be started away!"

"And what do you say, Burke?" exclaimed Shirley.

Burke did not answer. He was trying to decide whether or not he and Shirley, with Burdette and Portman, and the two engineers could work the yacht. But before he had even a chance to speak, Mr. Hodgson stepped forward and exclaimed:—

"I'll stick to the yacht until she has accomplished her business! I'd just as soon make my vacation a week longer as not. I can cut it off somewhere else. If you are thinking about your crew, Captain, I want to say that so far as I am concerned, I am one volunteer!"

"And I am another!" said Mr. Litchfield. "Now that I know how absolutely essential it is that the Dunkery Beacon should be overtaken, I would not for a moment even consider the surrender of my position upon this vessel, which I assure you, madam, I consider as an honor!"

Mr. Shirley stared in amazement at the speaker. What sort of a seaman was this? His face and hands were dirty, but he had been shovelling coal; but such speech Shirley had never heard from mariners' lips. The rest of the crew seemed very odd, and now he noticed for the first time that although many of them were in their shirt sleeves, nearly all wore black trousers. He could not understand it.

"Mr. Litchfield, sir," said a large, heavy man with a nose burned very red, a travelling cap upon his head, and wearing a stiffly starched shirt which had once been white, no collar, and a waistcoat cut very straight in front, now opened, but intended to be buttoned up very high, "I believe Mr. Litchfield has voiced the sentiments of us all. As he was speaking, I looked from one brother to another, and I think I am right."

"You are right!" cried every one of the sturdy fellows who had so recently stepped from Synod to yacht.

"I knew it!" exultingly exclaimed the speaker. "I felt it in my heart of hearts! Madam, and Captain, knowing what we do we are not the men to desert you when it is found necessary to continue the voyage for a little!"

"And what would happen to us if we did leave the yacht?" said another. "We might simply have to remain at Kingston until you returned. Oh no, we wouldn't think of it!"

"Burke," said Shirley, in a low tone, "who are these people?"

"Can't tell you now," said Burke, his eyes glistening, "you might tumble overboard backwards if I did! Gentlemen," he cried, turning to his crew, "you're a royal lot! And if any of you ever ask me to stand by you, I'll do it while there's breath in my body! And now, madam," said he, his doubt and perplexity gone and his face animated by the necessity of immediate action, "I can't now say anything about your kindness in lending us your yacht, but if you and Miss Croup want to go ashore, here is a boat alongside."

"Go ashore!" screamed Mrs. Cliff. "What are you talking about? If anybody stays on this yacht, I do! I wouldn't think of such a thing as going ashore!"

"Nor I!" cried Willy. "What's got into your head, Mr. Burke,—do you intend to go without eating?"

"Ladies," cried Burke, "you are truly trumps, and that's all I've got to say! And we'll get out of this harbor just as fast as we can!"

"Look here," cried Shirley, running after Burke to the captain's room; "I've got to go ashore again and get that cable message! We must have authority to turn that steamer back if we overhaul her, and I've got to have somebody to go with me. But before we do anything you must take time to tell me who these queer-looking customers are that you've got on board."

Burke shut the door of his room, and in as few words as possible he explained how some of the members of the recent Synod happened to be acting as crew of the yacht. Shirley was a quiet and rather a sedate man, but when he heard this tale, he dropped into a chair, leaned back, stretched out his legs, and laughed until his voice failed him.

"Oh, it's all funny enough," said Burke, almost as merry as his friend, "but they're good ones, I can tell you that! You couldn't get together a better set of landsmen, and I tell you what I'll do. If you want anybody to go with you to certify that you are all right, I'll send a couple of parsons!"

"Just what I want!" cried Shirley.

Burke quickly stepped out on deck, and calling the mate, "Mr. Burdette," he said, "I want you to detail the Reverend Charles Attlebury and Reverend Mr. Gillingham to go ashore with Mr. Shirley. Tell them to put on their parson's toggery, long coats, high hats, and white cravats, and let each man take with him the address of his church on a card. They are to certify to Mr. Shirley. Tell them to step round lively—we have no time to lose!"

Soon after the boat with Shirley and the clergymen had pulled away from the yacht, two of the clerical crew came to Mrs. Cliff, and told her that they were very sorry indeed to say, that having consulted the sailing-master, and having been told by him that it was not at all probable that the yacht would be able to return to Kingston in a week, they had been forced to the conclusion that they would not be able to offer her their services during the voyage she was about to make. Important affairs at home would make it impossible for them to prolong their most delightful vacation, and as they had been informed that the Antonina would return to New York in a few days, it would be advisable for them to leave the yacht and take passage to New York in her. They felt, however, that this apparent desertion would be of less importance than it would have been if it had occurred in the port of Nassau, because now the crew would have the assistance of Mr. Shirley, who was certainly worth more than both of them together.

When Burke heard this, he said to Mrs. Cliff that he was not sure but what the parsons were quite correct, and although everybody was sorry to lose two members of the party, it could not be helped, and all who had letters to send to New York went to work to scribble them as fast as they could. Mrs. Cliff also wrote a note to Captain Horn, informing him of the state of affairs, and of their reasons for not waiting for him, and this the departing clergymen undertook to leave with Beaver & Hughes, where Captain Horn would be sure to call.

When Shirley reached the counting-house of Beaver & Hughes, he found that it was a great advantage to be backed up by a pair of reverend clergymen, who had come to Kingston in a handsome yacht. The message for Captain Hagar was delivered without hesitation, and the best wishes were expressed that they might be able to overtake the Dunkery Beacon.

"Her course will be south of Tobago Island," said Mr. Beaver, "and then if your yacht is the vessel you say it is, I should say you ought to overtake her before she gets very far down the coast. I don't know that Captain Hagar will turn back when he gets this message, having gone so far, but, of course, if it is important, I am glad there is a vessel here to take it to him."

"What sort of a looking vessel is the Dunkery Beacon?" asked Shirley.

"She is about two thousand tons," said the other, "has two masts which do not rake much, and her funnel is painted black and white, the stripes running up and down. There are three steamers on the line, and all their funnels are painted that way."

"We'll be apt to know her when we see her," said Shirley, and with a hurried leave, he and his companions hastened back to the wharves.

But on the way a thought struck Shirley, and he determined to take time to go to the post-office. There might be something for him, and he had not thought of it before. There he found a telegraphic message addressed to him and sent from Vera Cruz to New York, and thence forwarded by mail. It was from Captain Horn, and was as long as an ordinary business note, and informed Shirley that the Captain expected to be in Jamaica not long after this message reached Kingston. There was no regular steamer which would reach there in good time, but he had chartered a steamer, the Monterey, which was then being made ready for sea as rapidly as possible, and would probably clear for Kingston in a few days. It urged Shirley not to fail to keep the Dunkery Beacon in port until he arrived.

Shirley stood speechless for some minutes after he had read this message. This telegram had come with him on the Antonina from New York! What a fool he had been not to think sooner of the post-office—but what difference would it have made? What could he have done that he had not done? If the Captain sailed in a few days from the time he sent the message, he would be here very soon, for the distance between Kingston and Vera Cruz was less than that from New York. The Captain must have counted on Shirley reaching Jamaica very much sooner than he really did arrive. Puzzled, annoyed, and disgusted with himself, Shirley explained the message to his companions, and they all hastened back to the yacht. There a brief but very hurried consultation was held, in which nearly everybody joined. The question to be decided was, should they wait for Captain Horn?

A great deal was said in a very short time, and in the midst of the confused opinions, Mrs. Cliff spoke out, loudly and clearly. "It is my opinion," said she, "that we should not stop. If fitting out a steamer is like fitting out anything else in this world that I know of, it is almost certain to take more time than people expect it to take. If Captain Horn telegraphed to us this minute, I believe he would tell us to go after that ship with the gold on board, just as fast as we can, and tell them to turn back."

This speech was received with favor by all who heard it, and without a word in answer to Mrs. Cliff, Captain Burke told Mr. Burdette that they would clear for a cruise and get away just as soon as they could do it.

When the yacht had been made ready to start, the two clergymen descended into the boat, which was waiting alongside, and the Summer Shelter steamed out of the harbor of Kingston, and headed away for Tobago Island.



CHAPTER XXV

A NOTE FOR CAPTAIN BURKE

Notwithstanding the fact that the Summer Shelter made very good time, that she had coaled at Nassau, and was therefore ready for an extended cruise, it was impossible for any of those on board of her to conceal from themselves the very strong improbability of sighting the Dunkery Beacon after she had got out upon the wide Atlantic, and that she would pass the comparatively narrow channel south of Tobago Island before the yacht reached it, was almost a foregone conclusion.

Mr. Burke assured Mrs. Cliff and his passengers that although their chase after the steamer might reasonably suggest a needle and a haystack, still, if the Dunkery Beacon kept down the coast in as straight a line as she could for Cape St. Roque, and if the Summer Shelter also kept the same line, and if the yacht steamed a great deal faster than the other vessel, it stood to reason that it could not be very long before the Summer Shelter overhauled the Dunkery Beacon.

But those who consulted with Mr. Portman were not so well encouraged as those who pinned their faith upon the Captain. The sailing-master had very strong doubts about ever sighting the steamer that had sailed away two days before they left Kingston. The ocean being so very large, and any steamer being so very small comparatively, if they did not pass her miles out of sight, and if they never caught up to her, he would not be in the least surprised.

Four days had passed since they left Kingston, when Burke and Shirley stood together upon the deck, scanning the horizon with a glass. "Don't you think it begins to look like a wild goose chase?" said the latter.

Burke thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Yes," said he, "it does look like that! I did believe that we were going to overhaul her before she got outside the Caribbees, but she must be a faster vessel than I thought she was."

"I don't believe she's fast at all," said Shirley. "She's had two days' start, and that's enough to spoil our business, I'm afraid!"

"But we'll keep on," said Burke. "We're not going to turn back until our coal bunkers tell us we've got to do it!"

Steamers they saw, sometimes two in an hour,—sailing-vessels were sighted, near by or far away;—schooners, ships, or brigs, and these were steaming and sailing this way and that, but never did they see a steamer with a single funnel painted black and white, with the stripes running up and down.

It was very early next morning after the conversation between Burke and Shirley that the latter saw a long line of smoke just above the horizon which he thought might give him reason for looking out for the steamer of which they were in quest; but when he got his glass, and the masts appeared above the horizon, he saw that this vessel was heading eastward, perhaps a little northeast, and therefore was not likely to be the Dunkery Beacon. But in half an hour his glass showed him that there were stripes on the funnel of this steamer which ran up and down, and in a moment Burke was called, and was soon at his side.

"I believe that's the Dunkery!" cried the Captain, with the glass to his eye. "But she's on the wrong course! It won't take us long to overhaul her. We'll head the yacht a few points to the east. Don't say anything to anybody,—we don't want to disappoint them."

"Oh, we can overhaul her," said Shirley, who now had the glass, "for it isn't a stern chase by any means."

In less than half an hour everybody on board the Summer Shelter knew that the large steamer, which they could plainly see on the rolling waves to the south, must be the Dunkery Beacon, unless, indeed, they should find that this was one of her sister ships coming north. There was great excitement on board the yacht. The breakfast, which was in course of preparation, was almost entirely forgotten by those who had it in charge, and everybody who could possibly leave duty crowded to the rail, peering across the waves to the southward. It was not long before Shirley, who had the best eyes on board, declared that he could read with his glass the name Dunkery Beacon on the port bow.

"That's not where we ought to see it," cried Burke; "we ought to see it on the stern! But we've got her, boys!"—and then he remembered himself, and added,—"ladies; and now let's give three good cheers!"

Three rousing cheers were given by all on board with such good-will that they would have been heard on the other steamer had not the wind been pretty strong from the west.

The Summer Shelter gained upon the larger vessel, and Burke now ran up signals for her to lay to, as he wished to speak with her. To these signals, however, the Dunkery paid no immediate attention, keeping steadily on, although altering her course towards the south-east.

"What does that mean, Mr. Shirley?" asked Mrs. Cliff. "Mr. Burke wants her to stop, doesn't he?"

"Yes," said Shirley, "that is what the signal is for."

"But she doesn't stop!" said Mrs. Cliff. "Do you think there is any chance of her not stopping at all?"

"Can't say, madam," he answered. "But she's got good reason for keeping on her way; a vessel with all that treasure on board could hardly be expected to lay to because a strange vessel that she knows nothing about asked her to shut off steam."

"That seems to me very reasonable, indeed," said Mr. Litchfield, who was standing by. "But it would be very bad fortune, if, after all the trouble and anxiety you have had in overtaking this vessel, she should decline to stop and hear the news we have to tell."

There was a strong breeze and a good deal of sea, but Burke determined to get near enough to hail the Dunkery Beacon and speak to her. So he got round on her weather quarter, and easily overtaking her, he brought the Summer Shelter as near to the other vessel as he considered it safe to do. Then he hailed her, "Dunkery Beacon, ahoy! Is that Captain Hagar?"

The wind was too strong for the Captain of the other vessel to answer through his trumpet, but he signalled assent. Then Burke informed him that he wished him to lay to in order that he might send a boat on board; that he had very important orders to Captain Hagar from his owners, and that he had followed him from Jamaica in order to deliver them. For some time there was no answer whatever to these loudly bellowed remarks, and the two vessels kept on side by side.

"Anyway," said Burke to Mr. Burdette, "she can see that we're a lot faster than she is, and that she can't get away from us!"

"It may be that she's afraid of us," said the mate, "and thinks we're one of the pirates."

"That can't be," said Burke, "for she doesn't know anything about the pirates! I'll hail her again, and tell her what we are, and what our business is. I think it won't be long before she lays to just to see what we want."

Sure enough, in less than fifteen minutes the Dunkery Beacon signalled that she would lay to, and before long the two vessels, their engines stopped and their heads to the wind, lay rising and falling on the waves, and near enough to speak to each other.

"Now, then, what do you want?" shouted the Captain of the Dunkery.

"I want to send a boat aboard with an important message from Blackburn!"

After a few minutes the answer came, "Send a boat!"

Orders were given to lower one of the yacht's boats, and it was agreed that Shirley ought to be the man to go over to the Dunkery Beacon. "Who do you want to go with you?" asked Burke.

"Nobody but the boat's crew," he answered. "I can explain things better by myself. Captain Hagar seems to be an obstinate fellow, and it won't be easy to turn him back on his course. But if I want anybody to stand by me and back me up in what I say, you might let some of the clergymen come over. He might believe them, and wouldn't me. But I'll talk to him first by myself."

Every member of the Synod declared that he was perfectly willing to go to the other vessel if he should be needed, and Mrs. Cliff assured Burke that if she could be of any good in making the Captain of the Dunkery Beacon understand that he ought to turn back, she would be perfectly willing to be rowed over to his vessel.

"I don't think it will be necessary to put a lady into a boat on such a sea as this," said Burke. "But when he hears what Shirley has to tell him, that Captain will most likely be glad enough to turn back."

Captain Burke was afraid to trust any of his clerical crew to row a ship's boat on such a heavy sea, and although he would be perfectly willing to go himself as one of the oarsmen, he would not leave the yacht so long as Mrs. Cliff was on board; but Mr. Burdette, the sailing-master, and the assistant engineer volunteered as crew of the boat, while Shirley himself pulled an oar.

When the boat reached the Dunkery Beacon, Shirley was soon on board, while the three men in the boat, holding to a line which had been thrown them, kept their little craft from bumping against the side of the big steamer by pushing her off with their oars. On board the Summer Shelter everybody stood and gazed over the rail, staring at the other steamer as if they could hear with their eyes what was being said on board of her. After waiting about twenty minutes, a note was passed down to the men in the boat, who pushed off and rowed back with it to the Summer Shelter.

The note, which Captain Burke opened and read as soon as he could lay hold of it, ran as follows:

"TO CAPTAIN BURKE OF THE 'SUMMER SHELTER':

"It's my opinion that you're trying to play a beastly trick on me! It isn't like my owners to send a message to me off the coast of South America. If they wanted to send me a message, it would have been waiting for me at Kingston. I don't know what sort of a trick you are trying to play on me, but you can't do it. I know my duties, and I'm going to keep on to my port. And what's more, I'm not going to send back the man you sent aboard of me. I'll take him with me to Rio Janeiro, and hand him over to the authorities. They'll know what to do with him, but I don't intend to send him back to report to you whatever he was sent aboard my vessel to find out.

"I don't know how you came to think I had treasure on board, but it's none of your business anyway. You must think I'm a fool to turn back to Kingston because you tell me to. Anybody can write a telegram. So I'm going to get under way, and you can steam back to Kingston, or wherever you came from.

"CAPTAIN HAGAR."

Captain Burke had hardly finished reading this extraordinary letter when he heard a cry from the boat lying by the side of the yacht in which the three men were waiting, expecting to go back to the other vessel with an answer. "Hello!" cried Mr. Burdette. "She's getting under way! That steamer's off!"

And at this a shout arose from everybody on board the Summer Shelter. The propeller of the Dunkery Beacon was stirring the water at her stern, and she was moving away, her bow turned southward. Burke leaned over the rail, shouted to his men to get on board and haul up the boat, and then he gave orders to go ahead full speed.

"What does all this mean?" cried Mrs. Cliff. "What's in that letter, Mr. Burke? Are they running away with Mr. Shirley?"

"That's what it looks like!" he cried. "But here's the letter. You can all read it for yourselves!" and with that he dashed away to take charge of his vessel.

All now was wild excitement on board the Summer Shelter, but what was to be done or with what intention they were pursuing the Dunkery Beacon and rapidly gaining upon her, no one could say, not even Captain Burke himself. The yacht was keeping on the weather quarter of the other vessel, and when she was near enough, he began again to yell at her through his speaking-trumpet, but no answer or signal came back, and everybody on board the larger vessel seemed to be attending to his duties as if nothing had happened, while Mr. Shirley was not visible.

While the Captain was roaring himself red in the face, both Mrs. Cliff and Willy Croup were crying, and the face of each clergyman showed great anxiety and trouble. Presently Mrs. Cliff was approached by the Reverend Mr. Arbuckle, the oldest of the members of the late Synod who had shipped with her.

"This is a most unfortunate and totally unexpected outcome of our expedition," said he. "If Mr. Shirley is taken to Rio Janeiro and charges made against him, his case may be very serious. But I cannot see what we are to do! Don't you believe it would be well to call a consultation of those on board?"

Mrs. Cliff wiped her eyes, and said they ought to consult. If anything could be done, it should be done immediately.

Captain Burke put the yacht in charge of the mate, and came aft where five of the clergymen, the sailing-master, and Mrs. Cliff and Willy were gathered together. "I'm willing to hold council," said he, "but at this minute I can't give any advice as to what ought to be done. The only thing I can say, is that I don't want to desert Shirley. If I could do it, I would board that vessel and take him off, but I don't see my way clear to that just yet. I'm not owner of this yacht, but if Mrs. Cliff will give the word, I'll follow that steamer to Rio Janeiro, and if Shirley is put on shore and charges made against him, I'll be there to stand by him!"

"Of course, we will not desert Mr. Shirley," cried Mrs. Cliff. "This yacht shall follow that vessel until we can take him on board again. I can't feel it in my heart, gentlemen, to say to you that I'm willing to turn back and take you home if you want to go. It may be very hard to keep you longer, but it will be a great deal harder if we are to let the Captain of that ship take poor Mr. Shirley to Rio Janeiro and put him into prison, with nobody to say a word for him!"

"Madam," said Mr. Arbuckle, "I beg that you will not speak of the question of an immediate return on our account. This is in every way a most unfortunate affair, but we all see what ought to be done, what it is our duty to do, and we will do it! Can you give me an idea, Mr. Portman, of the length of time it would probably require for us to reach Rio Janeiro?"

"I think this yacht could get there in a week," said the sailing-master; "but if we're to keep company with that hulk over there, it will take us ten days. We may have trouble about coal, but if we have good winds like these, we can keep up with the Dunkery Beacon with half steam and our sails."

"Mr. Litchfield," said Mrs. Cliff, "the Captain is up in the pilot house. I can't climb up there, but won't you go and tell him that I say that we must stand by Mr. Shirley no matter what happens, nor where we have to go to!"



CHAPTER XXVI

"WE'LL STICK TO SHIRLEY!"

When night began to fall, the Dunkery Beacon was still keeping on her course,—a little too much to the eastward, Mr. Portman thought,—and the Summer Shelter was still accompanying her almost abreast, and less than half a mile away. During the day it had been seldom that the glasses of the yacht had not been directed upon the deck of the larger vessel. Several times Mr. Shirley had been seen on the main deck, and he had frequently waved his hat. It was encouraging to know that their friend was in good condition, but there were many hearts on board the Summer Shelter which grew heavier and heavier as the night came on.

Burke and Burdette stood together in the pilot house. "Suppose she gets away from us in the night?" said the mate.

"I don't intend to let her do it," replied his Captain. "Even if she douses every glim on board, I'll keep her in sight! It will be starlight, and I'm not afraid, with a vessel as easily managed as this yacht, to lie pretty close to her."

"Then there's another thing," said Burdette.

"You're thinking they may get rid of him?" asked Burke.

"Yes," said the other, "I was thinking of that!"

The Captain did not reply immediately. "That came across my mind too," said he, "but it's all nonsense! In the first place, they haven't got any reason for wanting to get rid of him that way, and besides, they know that if they went into Rio Janeiro without Shirley, we could make it very hot for them!"

"But he's a queer one—that Captain Hagar!" said Burdette. "What was he doing on that easterly course? I think he's a scaly customer, that's what I think!"

"Can't say anything about that," answered Burke. "But one thing I know,—I'm going to stick to him like a thrasher to a whale!"

Very early the next morning Mr. Hodgson came aft where Captain Burke was standing with the sailing-master. "Sir," said he, "I am a clergyman and a man of peace, but I declare, sir, that I do not think any one, no matter what his profession, should feel himself called upon to submit to the outrageous conduct of the Captain of that vessel! Is there no way in which we could approach her and make fast to her, and then boldly press our way on board in spite of objection or resistance, and by force, if it should be necessary, bring away Mr. Shirley, whose misfortune has made us all feel as if he were not only our friend, but our brother. Then, sir, I should let that vessel go on to destruction, if she chooses to go."

Burke shook his head. "You may be sure if I considered it safe to run the two vessels together I would have been on board that craft long ago! But we couldn't do it,—certainly not with Mrs. Cliff on the yacht!"

"No indeed!" added Mr. Portman. "Nobody knows what damage they might do us. For my part, I haven't any faith in that vessel. I believe she's no better than a pirate herself!"

"Hold on!" exclaimed Burke. "Don't talk like that! It wouldn't do for the women to get any such notions into their heads!"

"But it is in your head, isn't it, sir?" said Mr. Hodgson.

"Yes," said Burke, "something of the sort. I don't mind saying that to you."

"And I will also say to you," replied the young clergyman, "that we talked it over last night, and we all agreed that the actions of the Dunkery Beacon are very suspicious. It does not seem at all unlikely that the great treasure she carries has been too much of a temptation for the Captain, and that she is trying to get away with it."

"Of course, I don't know anything about that Captain," said Burke, "or what he is after, but I'm pretty sure that he won't dare to do anything to Shirley as long as I keep him in sight. And now I'm going to bear down on him again to hail him!"

The Summer Shelter bore down upon the other steamer, and her Captain hailed and hailed for half an hour, but no answer came from the Dunkery Beacon.

Willy Croup was so troubled by what had happened, and even more by what was not happening,—for she could not see any good which might come out of this persistent following of the one vessel by the other,—that her nerves disordered and tangled themselves to such a degree that she was scarcely able to cook.

But Mrs. Cliff kept up a strong heart. She felt that a great deal depended upon her. At any moment an emergency might arise when she would be called upon, as owner of the yacht, to decide what should be done. She hoped very earnestly that if the Captain of the Dunkery Beacon saw that the Summer Shelter was determined to follow him wherever he went, and whatever he might do, he would at last get tired of being nagged in that way, and consent to give up Mr. Shirley.

About eight o'clock in the morning, all belief in the minds of the men on board the yacht that the Dunkery Beacon intended to sail to Rio Janeiro entirely disappeared, for that steamer changed her course to one considerably north of east. A little after that a steamer was seen on the horizon to the north, and she was bearing southward. In the course of half an hour it seemed as if this new steamer was not only likely to run across the course of the Dunkery Beacon, but was trying to do it.

"Captain," exclaimed Mrs. Cliff, grasping Burke by the arm, "don't you think it looks very much as if that Captain Hagar was trying to run away with the treasure which has been entrusted to him?"

"I didn't intend to say anything to you about that," he replied, "but it looks like it most decidedly!"

"If that should be the case," said Mrs. Cliff, "don't you think Mr. Shirley's situation is very dangerous?"

"Nobody knows anything about that, madam," said he, "but until we get him back on this yacht, I'll stick to her!"

Burke could not make out the new-comer very well, but he knew her to be a Mediterranean steamer. She was of moderate size, and making good headway. "I haven't the least bit of a doubt," said he to Burdette, "that that's the pirate vessel from Genoa!"

"I shouldn't wonder if you're right!" said the mate, taking the glass. "I think I can see a lot of heads in her bow, and now I wonder what is going to happen next!"

"That nobody knows," said Burke, "but if I had Shirley on board here, I'd steam away and let them have it out. We have done all we're called upon to do to keep those Peruvian fools from losing that cargo of gold!"

The strange vessel drew nearer and nearer to the Dunkery Beacon, and the two steamers, much to the amazement of the watchers on the yacht, now lay to and seemed prepared to hail each other. They did hail, and after a short time a boat was lowered from the stranger, and pulled to the Dunkery Beacon. There were but few men in the boat, although there were many heads on the decks from which they had come.

"This beats me!" ejaculated Burke. "They seem willing enough to lay to for her!"

"It looks to me," said Mr. Burdette, "as if she wanted to be captured!"

"I'd like to know," said the Captain, "what's the meaning of that queer bit of blotched bunting that's been run up on the Dunkery?"

"Can't tell," said the other, "but there's another one like it on the other steamer!"

"My friends," said Mr. Arbuckle, standing in a group of his fellow-clergymen on the main deck, "it is my earnest opinion that those two ships are accomplices in a great crime."

"If that be so," said another, "we are here in the position of utterly helpless witnesses. But we should not allow ourselves to look on this business from one point of view only. It may be that the intentions of that recently arrived vessel are perfectly honorable. She may bring later orders from the owners of the Dunkery Beacon, and bring them too with more authority than did Mr. Shirley, who, after all, was only a volunteer!"

The yacht was lying to, and at this moment the lookout announced a sail on the starboard quarter. Glancing in that direction, nearly everybody could see that another steamer, her hull well up in view, was coming down from the north.

"By George!" cried Burke, "most likely that's another of the pirates!"

"And if it is," said his mate, "I think we'll have to trust to our heels!"

Burke answered quietly, "Yes, we'll do that when we've got Shirley on board, or when it's dead sure we can't get him!"

The people from the Mediterranean steamer did not remain on board the Dunkery Beacon more than half an hour, and when they returned to their vessel, she immediately started her engines and began to move away. Making a short circuit, she turned and steamed in the direction of the distant vessel approaching from the northward.

"There," cried Burke, "that steamer off there is another of the pirates, and these scoundrels here are going to meet her. They've got the whole thing cut and dried, and I'll bet my head that the Dunkery Beacon will cruise around here until they're ready to come down and do what they please with her!"

The actions of the treasure ship now seemed to indicate that Mr. Burke was correct in his surmises. She steamed away slowly towards the south, and then making a wide sweep, she steered northward, directing her course toward the yacht as if she would speak with it.



CHAPTER XXVII

ON BOARD THE "DUNKERY BEACON"

When Edward Shirley stepped on board the big steamer which he had so earnestly and anxiously followed from Kingston, and was received by her captain, it did not take him long to form the opinion that Captain Hagar belonged to a disagreeable class of mariners. He was gruff, curt, and wanted to know in the shortest space of time why in the name of his Satanic Majesty he had been asked to lay to, and what message that yacht had for him.

Shirley asked for a private interview, and when they were in the Captain's room he put the whole matter into as few words as possible, showed the cablegram from Blackburn, and also exhibited his message from Captain Horn. The other scrutinized the papers very carefully, asked many questions, but made few remarks in regard to his own opinion or intentions.

When he had heard all that Shirley had to tell him, and had listened to some very earnest advice that he should immediately turn back to Kingston, or at least run into Georgetown, where he might safely lie in harbor until measures had been taken for the safe conveyance of the treasure to Peru, the Captain of the Dunkery Beacon arose, and asking Shirley to remain where he was until he should go and consult with his first mate, he went out, closing the door of the room behind him.

During this absence he did not see the first mate, but he went to a room where there was pen, ink, and paper, and there he wrote a note to Captain Burke of the Summer Shelter, which note, as soon as he had signed it, he gave to the men in the small boat waiting alongside, telling them that it was from their mate who had come on board, and that he wanted an answer just as soon as possible.

Mr. Burdette, Mr. Portman, and the assistant engineer having no reason whatever to suspect treachery under circumstances like these, immediately rowed back to the Summer Shelter. And, as we already know, it was not long before the Dunkery Beacon was steaming away from the yacht.

The moment that Shirley, who was getting a little tired of waiting, felt the movement of the engines, he sprang to the door, but found it locked. Now he began to kick, but in a very few moments the Captain appeared.

"You needn't make a row," said he. "Nobody's going to hurt you. I have sent a note to your skipper, telling him I'm going to keep you on board a little while until I can consider this matter. My duty to my owners wouldn't allow me to be a-layin' to here—but I'll think over the business and do what I consider right. But I've got to keep on my course—I've got no right to lose time whether this is all a piece of foolin' or not."

"There's no fooling about it," said Shirley, warmly. "If you don't turn back you will be very likely to lose a good deal more than time. You may lose everything on board, and your lives too, for all you know."

The Captain laughed. "Pirates!" said he. "What stuff! There are no pirates in these days!" and then he laughed again. "Well, I can't talk any more now," said he, "but I'll keep your business in my mind, and settle it pretty soon. Then you can go back and tell your people what I'll do. You had better go on deck and make yourself comfortable. If you'll take my advice, you won't do any talking. The people on this vessel don't know what she carries, and I don't want them to know! So if I see you talking to anybody, I'll consider that you want to make trouble—and I can tell you, if some of these people on board knew what was in them boxes in the hold, there would be the worst kind of trouble. You can bet your head on that! So you can go on and show yourself. Your friends won't be worried about you—I've explained it all to them in my note!"

When Shirley went on deck he was very much pleased to see that the Summer Shelter was not far away, and was steaming close after the larger vessel. He waved his hat, and then he turned to look about him. There seemed to be a good many men on the steamer, a very large crew, in fact; and after noticing the number of sailors who were at work not far away from him, Shirley came to the conclusion that there were more reasons than one why he would not hold conversation with them.

From their speech he thought that they must all be foreigners—French, or Italians, he could scarcely tell which. It did not seem to him that these belonged to the class of seamen which a careful captain of a British merchantman would wish to ship when carrying a cargo of treasure to a distant land, but then all sorts of crews were picked up in English ports. Her Captain, in fact, surprised Shirley more than did the seamen he had noticed. This Captain must, of course, be an Englishman, for the house of Blackburn Brothers would not be likely to trust one of their vessels, and such an important one, to the charge of any one but an Englishman. But he had a somewhat foreign look about him. His eyes and hair were very black, and there was a certain peculiarity in his pronunciation that made Shirley think at first that he might be a Welshman.

While Shirley was considering these matters, the Summer Shelter was rapidly gaining on the other steamer and was now alongside and within hailing distance, and Burke was on the bridge with a trumpet in his hand. At this moment Shirley was accosted by the Captain. "I've got something to say to you," said he; "step in my room. Perhaps we can give your friend an answer at once."



Shirley followed the other, the door was shut, and the Captain of the Dunkery Beacon began to tell how extremely injudicious it would be, in his opinion, to turn back, for if pirates really were following him,—although he did not believe a word of it,—he might run right into their teeth, whereas, by keeping on his course, he would most likely sail away from them, and when he reached Rio Janeiro, he could make arrangements there for some sort of a convoy, or whatever else was considered necessary.

"I'll go and hail my skipper," said Shirley, "if you'll let me have a speaking-trumpet."

"No," said the other, "I don't want you to do that. I don't mind tellin' you that I don't trust you. I've got very heavy responsibility on me, and I don't know who you are no more than if you was a porpoise come a-bouncin' up out of the sea. I don't want you and your skipper holdin' no conversation with each other until I've got this matter settled to my satisfaction, and then I can put you on board your vessel, and go ahead on my course, or I can turn back, just whichever I make up my mind to do. But until I make up my mind, I don't want no reports made from this vessel to any other, and no matter what you say when you are hailin', how do I know what you mean, and what sort of signals you've agreed on between you?"

Shirley was obliged to accept the situation, and when Burke had ceased to hail, he was allowed to go on deck. Then, after waving his hat to the yacht,—which was now at a considerable distance, although within easy range of a glass,—Shirley lighted his pipe, and walked up and down the deck. He saw a good many things to interest him; but he spoke to no one, and endeavored to assume the demeanor of one who was much interested in his own affairs, and very little in what was going on about him.

But Shirley noticed a great many things which made a deep impression upon him. The crew seemed to be composed of men not very well disciplined, but exceedingly talkative, and although Shirley did not understand French, he was now pretty sure that all the conversation he heard was in that tongue. Then, again, the men did not appear to be very well acquainted with the vessel—they frequently seemed to be looking for things, the position of which they should have known. He could not understand how men who had sailed on a vessel from Southampton should show such a spirit of inquiry in regard to the internal arrangements of the steamer. A boatswain, who was giving the orders to a number of men, seemed more as if he were instructing a class in the nautical management of a vessel than in giving the ordinary everyday orders which might be expected on such a voyage as this. Once he saw the Captain come on deck with a book in his hand, apparently a log-book, and he showed it to one of the mates. These two stood turning over the leaves of the book as if they had never seen it before, and wanted to find something which they supposed to be in it.

It was not long after this that Shirley said to himself that he could not understand how such a vessel, with such a cargo, could have been sent out from Southampton in charge of such a captain and such a crew as this. And then, almost immediately, the idea came to him in a flash that perhaps this was not the crew with which the Dunkery Beacon had sailed! Now he seemed to see the whole state of affairs as if it had been printed on paper. The Dunkery Beacon had been captured by one of the pirates, probably not long after she got outside the Caribbees, and that instead of trying to take the treasure on board their own vessel, the scoundrels had rid the Dunkery of her captain and crew, and had taken possession of the steamer and everything in it. This would explain her course when she was first sighted from the yacht. She was not going at all to Rio Janeiro—she was on her way across the Atlantic.

Now everything that he had seen, and everything that he had heard, confirmed this new belief. Of course the pirate Captain did not wish to lay to when he was first hailed, and he probably did so at last simply because he found he need not be afraid of the yacht, and that he could not rid himself of her unless he stopped to see what she wanted. Of course this fellow would not have him go back to the yacht and make a report. Of course this crew did not understand how things were placed and stored on board the vessel, for they themselves had been on board of her but a very short time. The Captain spoke English, but he was not an Englishman.

Shirley saw plainer and plainer every second that the Dunkery Beacon had been captured by pirates; that probably not a man of her former crew was on board, and that he was here a prisoner in the hands of these wretches—cut-throats for all he knew, and yet he did not reproach himself for having run into such a trap. He had done the proper thing, in a proper, orderly, and seamanlike way. He had had the most unexpected bad luck, but he did not in the least see any reason to blame himself.

He saw, however, a great deal of reason to fear for himself, especially as the evening drew on. That black-headed villain of a Captain did not want him on board, and while he might not care to toss him into the sea in view of a vessel which was fast enough to follow him wherever he might go, there was no reason why he should not do what he pleased, if, under cover of the night, he got away from that vessel.

The fact that he was allowed to go where he pleased, and see what he pleased, gave much uneasiness to Shirley. It looked to him as if they did not care what he might say, hear, or see, for the reason that it was not intended that he should have an opportunity of making reports of any sort. Shirley had his supper to himself, and the Captain showed him a bunk. "They can't do much talkin' to you," he said. "I had to sail ahead of time, and couldn't ship many Englishmen."

"You liar," thought Shirley, "you didn't ship any!"

Shirley was a brave man, but as he lay awake in his bunk that night, cold shivers ran down his back many times. If violence were offered to him, of course he could not make any defence, but he was resolved that if an attack should be made upon him, there was one thing he would try to do. He had carefully noted the location of the companion-ways, and he had taken off only such clothes as would interfere with swimming. If he were attacked, he would make a bolt for the upper deck, and then overboard. If the yacht should be near enough to hear or see him, he might have a chance. If not, he would prefer the ocean to the Dunkery Beacon and her crew.