But although Mrs. Cliff, for many reasons, had no present desire to leave her home, she did not relinquish the enterprise for which the Summer Shelter had been designed. When Captain Hagar had gone to London and had reported to his owners the details of his dire and disastrous misfortune, he had been made the subject of censure and severe criticism; but while no reason could be found why he should be legally punished for what had happened, he was made to understand that there was no ship for him in the gift of the house he had so long served.

When Mrs. Cliff heard of this,—and she heard of it very soon, through Captain Horn,—she immediately offered Captain Hagar the command of the Summer Shelter, assuring him that her designs included cruises of charity in the North in summer and in tropical waters in the winter-time, and that of all men she knew of, he was the Captain who should command her yacht. He was, indeed, admirably adapted to this service, for he was of a kind and gentle nature, and loved children, and he had such an observing mind that it frequently happened when he had looked over a new set of passengers, and had observed their physical tendencies, that he did not take a trip to sea at all, but cruised up the smooth quiet waters of the Hudson.

As soon as it could possibly be done, Captain Horn caused messages to be sent to many ports on the French and Spanish coast and along the Mediterranean, in order that if the Vittorio arrived in any of these harbors, her officers and men might be seized and held; but it was a long time before there was any news of the pirate ship, and then she was heard of at Mogador, a port on the western coast of Morocco, where she had been sold under very peculiar circumstances and for a very small price by the men who had come there in her, and who had departed north at different times on trading-vessels which were bound for Marseilles and Gibraltar.

More definite information was received of the third of the pirate vessels which had been fitted out to capture the Peruvians' treasure, for, as this vessel approached the West Indies, she was overhauled by a Spanish cruiser, who, finding her manned by a suspicious crew and well supplied with firearms, had seized her as a filibuster, and had taken her into a Cuban port, where she still remained, with her crew in prison awaiting trial or a tardy release, in case it became inconvenient to detain them longer.

The other pirate vessel, on which Captain Hagar and his men had been placed when they were forced to leave the Dunkery Beacon, finally reached Georgetown, British Guiana, where, after a long course of legal action, it was condemned and sold, and as much of the price as was left after costs had been paid, was handed over to the owners of the Dunkery Beacon.

Among the reasons which made Mrs. Cliff very glad to remain at Plainton was one of paramount importance. She was now engaged in a great work which satisfied all her aspirations and desires to make herself able to worthily and conscientiously cope with her income.

When, after the party on the Summer Shelter had separated at New York, and the ex-members of the Synod had gone to their homes, Mrs. Cliff and her party, which included Shirley as well as Captain Horn and his wife, had reached Plainton, their minds were greatly occupied with the subject of the loss of the Peruvians' share of the Incas' treasures. It was delightful for Mrs. Cliff and Willy to reach again their charming home, and their friends were filled with a pleasure which they could scarcely express to see and enjoy the beauties and the comforts with which Mrs. Cliff had surrounded herself; but there was still upon them all the shadow of that great misfortune which had happened off the eastern coast of South America.

News came to them of what had been said and done in London, and of what had been said and done, not only in Peru, but in other states of South America in regard to the loss of the treasure, but nothing was said of done in any quarter which tended to invalidate their right to the share of the gold which had been adjudged to them. The portion of the treasure allotted to the Peruvian government had been duly delivered to its agents, and it was the fault of those agents, acting under the feverish orders of their superiors, which had been the reason of its injudicious and hasty transportation and consequent loss.

But although the ownership of the treasure which was now in the safe possession of those to whom it had been adjudged was not considered a matter to be questioned or discussed, Mrs. Cliff was not satisfied with the case as it stood, and her dissatisfaction rapidly spread to the other members of the party. It pained her to think that the native Peruvians, those who might be considered the descendants of the Incas, would now derive no benefit from the discovery of the treasure of their ancestors, and she announced her intention to devote a portion of her wealth to the interests and advantage of these natives.

Captain Horn was much impressed with this idea, and agreed that if Mrs. Cliff would take the management of the enterprise into her own hands, he would contribute largely to any plan which she might adopt for the benefit of the Peruvians. Edna, who now held a large portion of the treasure in her own right, insisted upon being allowed to contribute her share to this object, and Burke and Shirley declared that they would become partners, according to their means, in the good work.

There was, of course, a great deal of talk and discussion in regard to the best way of using the very large amount of money which had been contributed by the various members of the party, but before Captain Horn and his wife left Plainton everything was arranged, and Mrs. Cliff found herself at the head of an important and well-endowed private mission to the native inhabitants of Peru. She did not make immediately a definite plan of action, but her first steps in the direction of her great object showed that she was a woman well qualified to organize and carry on the great work in the cause of civilization and enlightenment which she had undertaken. She engaged the Reverend Mr. Hodgson and the Reverend Mr. Litchfield, both young men whose dispositions led them to prefer earnest work in new and foreign lands to the ordinary labors of a domestic parish, to go to Peru to survey the scene of the proposed work, and to report what, in their opinion, ought to be done and how it should be undertaken.

Mrs. Cliff, now in the very maturity of her mental and physical powers, felt that this great work was the most congenial task that she could possibly have undertaken, and her future life now seemed open before her in a series of worthy endeavors in which her conscientious feelings in regard to her responsibilities, and her desire to benefit her fellow-beings should be fully satisfied. As to her fellow-workers and those of her friends who thoroughly comprehended the nature of the case, there was a general belief that those inhabitants of Peru who were rightfully entitled to the benefits of the discovered treasure, would, under her management and direction of the funds in her hands, receive far more good and advantage than they could possibly have expected had the treasure gone to the Peruvian government. In fact, there were those who said that had the Dunkery Beacon safely arrived in the port of Callao, the whole of the continent of South America might have been disturbed and disrupted by the immense over-balance of wealth thrown into the treasury of one of its states.

It is true that Mrs. Cliff's plans and purposes did not entirely pass without criticism. "It's all very well," said Miss Nancy Shott to Mrs. Ferguson one morning when the latter had called upon her with a little basket of cake and preserves, "for Mrs. Cliff to be sending her money to the colored poor of South America, but a person who has lived as she has lived in days gone by ought to remember that there are poor people who are not colored, and who live a great deal nearer than South America." Miss Shott was at work as she said this, but she could always talk when she was working. She was busy packing the California blankets, which Mrs. Cliff had given her, in a box for the summer, putting pieces of camphor rolled up in paper between their folds. "If she wanted to find people to give money to, she needn't hire ministers to go out and hunt for them. There are plenty of them here, right under her nose, and if she doesn't see them, it's because she shuts her eyes wilfully, and won't look."

"But it seems to me, Miss Shott," said Mrs. Ferguson, "that Mrs. Cliff has done ever so much for the people of Plainton. For instance, there are those blankets. What perfectly splendid things they are,—so soft and light, and yet so thick and warm! They're all wool, every thread of them, I have no doubt."

"All wool!" said Miss Shott. "Of course they are, and that's the trouble with them. Some of these days they'll have to be washed, and then they'll shrink up so short that I suppose I'll have to freeze either my chin or my toes. And as to her giving them to me, 'turn about's fair play.' I once joined in to give her a pair."

"Oh," said Mrs. Ferguson.

Mr. George Burke was now the only member of our little party of friends who did not seem entirely satisfied with his condition and prospects. He made no complaints, but he was restless and discontented. He did not want to go to sea, for he vowed he had had enough of it, and he did not seem to find any satisfaction in a life on shore. He paid a visit to his mother, but he did not stay with her very long, for Plainton seemed to suit him better. But when he returned to his house in that town, he soon left it to go and spend a few days with Shirley.

When he came back, Mrs. Cliff, who believed that his uneasy state of mind was the result of want of occupation and the monotonous life of a small town, advised him to go out West and visit Captain Horn. There was so much in that grand country to interest him and to occupy him, body and mind; but to this advice Mr. Burke stoutly objected.

"I'm not going out there," he said. "I've seen enough of Captain Horn and his wife. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Cliff, that's what's the matter with me."

"I don't understand you," said she.

"It's simply this," said Burke. "Since I've seen so much of the Captain and his wife, and the happiness they get out of each other, I've found out that the kind of happiness they've got is exactly the kind of happiness I want, and there isn't anything else—money, or land, or orange groves, or steamships—that can take the place of it."

"In other words," said Mrs. Cliff, with a smile, "you want to get married."

"You've hit it exactly," said he. "I want a wife. Of course I don't expect to get exactly such a wife as Captain Horn has—they're about as scarce as buried treasure, I take it—but I want one who will suit me and who is suited to me. That's what I want, and I shall never be happy until I get her."

"I should think it would be easy enough for you to get a wife, Mr. Burke," said Mrs. Cliff. "You are in the prime of life, you have plenty of money, and I don't believe it would be at all hard to find a good woman who would be glad to have you."

"That's what my mother said," said he. "When I was there she bored me from morning until night by telling me I ought to get married, and mentioning girls on Cape Cod who would be glad to have me. But there isn't any girl on Cape Cod that I want. To get rid of them, I came away sooner than I intended."

"Well then," said Mrs. Cliff, "perhaps there is some one in particular that you would like to have."

"That's it exactly," said Burke, "there is some one in particular."

"And do you mind telling me who it is?" she asked.

"Since you ask me, I don't mind a bit," said he. "It's Miss Croup."

Mrs. Cliff started back astonished. "Willy Croup!" she exclaimed. "You amaze me! I don't think she would suit you."

"I'd like to know why not?" he asked quickly.

"In the first place," said she, "it's a long time since Willy was a girl."

"That's the kind I want," he answered. "I don't want to adopt a daughter. I want to marry a grown woman."

"Well," said Mrs. Cliff, "Willy is certainly grown. But then, it doesn't seem to me that she would be adapted to a married life. I am sure she has made up her mind to live single, and she hasn't been accustomed to manage a house and conduct domestic affairs. She has always had some one to depend upon."

"That's what I like," said he. "Let her depend on me. And as to management, you needn't say anything to me about that, Mrs. Cliff. I saw her bouncing to the galley of the Summer Shelter, and if she manages other things as well as she managed the cooking business there, she'll suit me."

"It seems so strange to me, Mr. Burke," said Mrs. Cliff, after a few moments' silence. "I never imagined that you would care for Willy Croup."

Mr. Burke drew himself forward to the edge of the chair on which he was sitting, he put one hand on each of his outspread knees, and he leaned forward, with a very earnest and animated expression on his countenance. "Now, look here, Mrs. Cliff," he said, "I want to say something to you. When I see a young woman, brought up in the very bosom of the Sunday school, and on the quarter deck of respectability, and who never, perhaps, had a cross word said to her in all her life, or said one to anybody, judging from her appearance, and whose mind is more like a clean pocket-handkerchief in regard to hard words and rough language than anything I can think of;—when I see that young woman with a snow-white disposition that would naturally lead her to hymns whenever she wanted to raise her voice above common conversation,—when I see that young woman, I say, in a moment of life or death to her and every one about her, dash to the door of that engine room, and shout my orders down to that muddled engineer,—knowing I couldn't leave the wheel to give them myself,—ramming them into him as if with the point of a handspike, yelling out everything that I said, word for word, without picking or choosing, trusting in me that I knew what ought to be said in such a moment, and saying it after me, word for word, cursing, swearing, slamming down oaths on him just as I did, trusting in me all the time as to what words ought to be used, and just warming up that blasted engineer until sense enough came to him to make him put out his hand and back her,—then, Mrs. Cliff, I know that a woman who stands by me at a time like that will stand by me at any time, and that's the woman I want to stand by. And now, what have you got to say?"

"All I have to say," answered Mrs. Cliff, who had been listening intently to Mr. Burke's extraordinary flow of words, "all I have to say is, if that's the way you think about her, you ought to speak to her."

"Madam," said Burke, springing to his feet, "that suits me. I would have spoken to her before, but I had my doubts about what you'd think of it. But now that I see you're willing to sign the papers, what I want to know is, where will I be likely to find Miss Croup?"

Mrs. Cliff laughed. "You are very prompt," said she, "and I think you will find Willy in the little parlor. She was sewing there when I saw her last."

In less than a minute Mr. Burke stood before Willy Croup in the little parlor. "Miss Croup," said he, "I want to ask you something."



"What is it?" said Willy, letting her work drop in her lap.

"Miss Croup," said he, "I heard you swear once, and I never heard anybody swear better, and with more conscience. You did that swearing for me, and now I want to ask you if you will be willing to swear for me again?"

"No," said Willy, her cheeks flushing as she spoke, "no, I won't! It was all very well for you to tell me that I didn't do anything wrong when I talked in that dreadful way to Mr. Maxwell, and for you to get the ministers to tell me that as I didn't understand what I was saying, of course there was no sin in it; but although I don't feel as badly about it as I did, I sometimes wake up in the night and fairly shiver when I think of the words I used that day. And I've made up my mind, no matter whether ships are to be sunk or what is to happen, I will never do that thing again, and I don't want you ever to expect it of me."

"But, William Croup," exclaimed Mr. Burke, forgetting in his excitement that the full form of her Christian name was not likely to be masculine, "that isn't the way I want you to swear this time. What I want you to do is, to stand up alongside of me in front of a minister and swear you'll take me for your loving husband to love, honor, and protect, and all the rest of it, till death do us part. Now, what do you say to that?"

Willy sat and looked at him. The flush went out of her cheeks, and then came again, but it was a different kind of a flush this time, and the brightness went out of her eyes, and another light, a softer and a different light, came into them. "Oh! Is that what you want?" she said, presently. "I wouldn't mind that."

THE END

* * * * *

Novels and Short Stories

BY

FRANK R. STOCKTON

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, Publishers, New York

"Of Mr. Stockton's stories what is there to say, but that they are an unmixed blessing and delight? He is surely one of the most inventive of talents, discovering not only a new kind in humor and fancy, but accumulating an inexhaustible wealth of details in each fresh achievement, the least of which would be riches from another hand."—W. D. Howells, in Harper's Magazine.

JUST ISSUED

THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN HORN

12mo, $1.50

A novel unlike any that has hitherto appeared from this popular writer's pen. It is a romance of the most adventurous kind, whose events, born of Mr. Stockton's imagination, are wholly extraordinary, and yet, through the author's ingenuity, appear altogether real. That Captain Horn's adventures are varied may be inferred from the fact that they extend from Patagonia to Maine and from San Francisco to Paris, and include the most remarkable episodes and marvelous experiences—all of which are woven together by the pleasing thread of a love-story, and brightened by the gleam of Mr. Stockton's fanciful humor.

CONCERNING MR. STOCKTON'S STORIES.

"Mr. Stockton, more, perhaps, than any recent writer, has helped to define the peculiar virtues of the short story. He has shown how possible it is to use surprise as an effective element, and to make the turn of a story rather than the crisis of a plot account for everything. It may be said in general that Mr. Stockton does not rely often upon a sudden reversal at the end of a story to capture the reader, but gives him a whimsey or caprice to enjoy; while he works out the details in a succession of amusing turns."—The Atlantic Monthly.

New Uniform Edition of the following Volumes:

THE WATCHMAKER'S WIFE

And Other Stories. 12mo, $1.25.

"His stories are characterized by the oddity and drollery which distinguish Mr. Stockton's from that of the ordinary humorists."—Charleston News and Courier.

THE LATE MRS. NULL

12mo, $1.25.

"We can assure prospective readers that their only regret after finishing the book will be that never again can they hope for the pleasure of reading it for the first time."—The Critic.

RUDDER GRANGE

12mo, paper, 60 cents; cloth, $1.25.

"Humor like this is perennial."—Washington Post.

THE RUDDER GRANGERS ABROAD

And Other Stories. 12mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25.

"It will be eagerly sought by all old friends of Pomona and Jonas and the other characters who have so delighted the numberless readers of 'Rudder Grange.'"—The Outlook.

THE LADY, OR THE TIGER?

And Other Stories. 12mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25.

"His unique stories always hit the mark. But 'The Lady, or the Tiger?' was a shaft condensed from the entire Stocktonese."—Century Magazine.

THE CHRISTMAS WRECK

And Other Stories. 12mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25.

"With the charm of a most delicate humor, his stories become irresistibly attractive."—Philadelphia Times.

THE BEEMAN OF ORN

And Other Fanciful Tales. 12mo, $1.25.

"It would be idle to describe the fanciful humor of these stories. To read them is simple recreation."—London Athenaeum.

AMOS KILBRIGHT

His Adscititious Experiences. With Other Stories. 12mo, paper, 50 cents; cloth, $1.25.

"A collection of inimitable tales. The writer's whimsical humor and inventive genius find fitting scope in the title story."—Boston Commonwealth.

ARDIS CLAVERDEN

12mo, $1.25.

"A very pretty story, tender, and full of gentle humor."—Philadelphia Press.

[asterism] The set, nine volumes, 12mo, $11.50.

Mr. Stockton's Books For The Young

"His books for boys and girls are classics."—Newark Advertiser.

THE CLOCKS OF RONDAINE, AND OTHER STORIES. With 24 illustrations by BLASHFIELD, ROGERS, BEARD, and others. Square 8vo, $1.50.

PERSONALLY CONDUCTED. Illustrated by PENNELL, PARSONS, and others. Square 8vo, $2.00.

THE STORY OF VITEAU. Illustrated by R. B. BIRCH. 12mo, $1.50.

A JOLLY FELLOWSHIP. With 20 illustrations. 12mo, $1.50.

THE FLOATING PRINCE AND OTHER FAIRY TALES. Illustrated. Square 8vo, $1.50.

THE TING-A-LING TALES. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.00.

ROUNDABOUT RAMBLES IN LANDS OF FACT AND FICTION. Illustrated. Square 8vo, $1.50.

TALES OUT OF SCHOOL. With nearly 200 illustrations. Square 8vo, $1.50.

NOVELS AND SHORT STORIES BY FRANK R. STOCKTON

IN UNIFORM STYLE. ILLUSTRATED BY A. B. FROST

POMONA'S TRAVELS



A Series of Letters to the Mistress of Rudder Grange from her Former Handmaiden. Fully illustrated by A. B. FROST. 12mo, $2.00.

"It forms one of the most delightful books Mr. Stockton has ever written. It is capital reading, and will more firmly establish Mr. Stockton in his place with Bret Harte among contemporary American writers. Mr. Frost's pictures are all admirable."—New York Times.

"It will be remembered that Pomona married a certain Jonas, a young man of eccentric ways and dry humor. They make a journey abroad, and their experiences are as enjoyable as those of the days at Rudder Grange. The book is capitally illustrated."—Boston Transcript.

RUDDER GRANGE

With over 100 illustrations by A. B. FROST. 12mo, gilt top, $2.00.

"It is possible that there are readers and buyers of books who have yet to make the acquaintance of 'Rudder Grange.' If so, it is hard to tell whether they are objects of pity or envy—pity for having lost so much enjoyment, or envy for the pleasure that is still in store for them."—Philadelphia Times.

"Mr. Frost's suggestive illustrations add greatly to the attractiveness of Mr. Stockton's famous story. He has caught the spirit of the book, and sketched its leading characters and scenes with rare humor."—London Literary World.

[asterism] The above two books, handsomely bound in uniform style, with special cover designs by A. B. Frost, gilt top, 12mo, in a box, $4.00.



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

153-157 Fifth Avenue, New York

THE END