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MRS. CLIFF'S YACHT
[Illustration: BURKE DETERMINED TO GET NEAR ENOUGH TO HAIL THE DUNKERY
BEACON]
MRS. CLIFF'S YACHT
BY
FRANK R. STOCKTON
_ILLUSTRATED BY A. FORESTIER_
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1896
COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
NORWOOD PRESS
J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood Mass. U.S.A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. ALONE WITH HER WEALTH 1
II. WILLY CROUP DOESN'T KNOW 7
III. MISS NANCY SHOTT 16
IV. A LAUNCH INTO A NEW LIFE 25
V. A FUR-TRIMMED OVERCOAT AND A SILK HAT 36
VI. A TEMPERANCE LARK 45
VII. MR. BURKE ACCEPTS A RESPONSIBILITY 59
VIII. MR. BURKE BEGINS TO MAKE THINGS MOVE IN PLAINTON 68
IX. A MEETING OF HEIRS 80
X. THE INTELLECT OF MISS INCHMAN 92
XI. THE ARRIVAL OF THE NEW DINING-ROOM 99
XII. THE THORPEDYKE SISTERS 109
XIII. MONEY HUNGER 114
XIV. WILLY CROUP AS A PHILANTHROPIC DIPLOMATIST 121
XV. MISS NANCY MAKES A CALL 128
XVI. MR. BURKE MAKES A CALL 135
XVII. MRS. CLIFF'S YACHT 147
XVIII. THE DAWN OF THE GROVE OF THE INCAS 156
XIX. THE "SUMMER SHELTER" 162
XX. THE SYNOD 169
XXI. A TELEGRAM FROM CAPTAIN HORN 173
XXII. THE "SUMMER SHELTER" GOES TO SEA 182
XXIII. WILLY CROUP COMES TO THE FRONT 192
XXIV. CHANGES ON THE "SUMMER SHELTER" 203
XXV. A NOTE FOR CAPTAIN BURKE 218
XXVI. "WE'LL STICK TO SHIRLEY!" 228
XXVII. ON BOARD THE "DUNKERY BEACON" 235
XXVIII. THE PEOPLE ON THE "MONTEREY" 247
XXIX. THE "VITTORIO" FROM GENOA 254
XXX. THE BATTLE OF THE MERCHANT SHIPS 264
XXXI. "SHE BACKED!" 273
XXXII. A HEAD ON THE WATER 279
XXXIII. 11 deg. 30' 19" N. LAT. by 56 deg. 10' 19" W. LONG. 286
XXXIV. PLAINTON, MAINE 298
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
BURKE DETERMINED TO GET NEAR ENOUGH TO HAIL THE
"DUNKERY BEACON" _Frontispiece_
THE GENTLEMAN RAISED HIS HAT AND ASKED IF MRS. CLIFF
LIVED THERE 42
MRS. CLIFF'S INVITATION WAS DISCUSSED WITH LIVELY
APPRECIATION 170
THERE, FASTENED AGAINST THE FORE-MAST, WAS A LARGE
PIECE OF PAPER 194
WHEN SHIRLEY WENT ON DECK HE WAS MUCH PLEASED TO
SEE THE "SUMMER SHELTER" 238
BANKER COULD NOT HOLD BACK 270
HE SEIZED IT AND RAISED IT TO HIS SHOULDER 290
WILLY SAT AND LOOKED AT HIM 312
MRS. CLIFF'S YACHT
CHAPTER I
ALONE WITH HER WEALTH
On a beautiful September afternoon in a handsome room of one of the
grand, up-town hotels in New York sat Mrs. Cliff, widow and millionaire.
Widow of a village merchant, mistress of an unpretending house in the
little town of Plainton, Maine, and, by strange vicissitudes of fortune,
the possessor of great wealth, she was on her way from Paris to the
scene of that quiet domestic life to which for nearly thirty years she
had been accustomed.
She was alone in the hotel; her friends, Captain Horn and his wife Edna,
who had crossed the ocean with her, had stayed but a few days in New
York and had left early that afternoon for Niagara, and she was here by
herself in the hotel, waiting until the hour should arrive when she
would start on a night train for her home.
Her position was a peculiar one, altogether new to her. She was
absolutely independent,--not only could she do what she pleased, but
there was no one to tell her what it would be well for her to do, wise
for her to do, or unwise. Everything she could possibly want was within
her reach, and there was no reason why she should not have everything
she wanted.
For many months she had been possessed of enormous wealth, but never
until this moment had she felt herself the absolute, untrammelled
possessor of it. Until now Captain Horn, to whom she owed her gold, and
the power it gave her, had been with her or had exercised an influence
over her. Until the time had come when he could avow the possession of
his vast treasures, it had been impossible for her to make known her
share in them, and even after everything had been settled, and they had
all come home together in the finest state-rooms of a great ocean liner,
she had still felt dependent upon the counsels and judgment of her
friends.
But now she was left absolutely free and independent, untrammelled,
uncounselled, alone with her wealth.
She rose and looked out of the window, and, as she gazed upon the crowd
which swept up and down the beautiful avenue, she could not but smile as
she thought that she, a plain New England countrywoman, with her gray
hair brushed back from her brows, with hands a little hardened and
roughened with many a year of household duties, which had been to her as
much a pleasure as a labor, was in all probability richer than most of
the people who sat in the fine carriages or strolled in their
fashionable clothes along the sidewalk.
"If I wanted to do it," she thought, "I could have one of those
carriages with prancing horses and a driver in knee breeches, or I
could buy that house opposite, with its great front steps, its
balconies, and everything in it, but there is nobody on this earth who
could tempt me to live there."
"Now," said Mrs. Cliff to herself, as she turned from the window and
selected a fresh easy chair, and sank down into its luxurious depths,
"there is nothing in this world so delightful as to go back rich to
Plainton. To be rich in Paris or New York is nothing to me; it would
simply mean that I should be a common person there as I used to be at
home, and, for the matter of that, a little more common."
As the good lady's thoughts wandered northward, and spread themselves
from the railroad station at Plainton all over the little town, she was
filled with a great content and happiness to go to her old home with her
new money. This was a joy beyond anything she had dreamed of as possible
in this world.
But it was the conjunction of the two which produced this delightful
effect upon her mind. The money anywhere else, or Plainton without it,
would not have made Mrs. Cliff the happy woman that she was.
It pleased her to let her mind wander over the incidents of her recent
visit to her old home, the most unhappy visit she had ever made in all
her life, but everything that was unpleasant then would help to make
everything more delightful in the present home-coming.
She thought of the mental chains and fetters she had worn when she went
to Plainton with plenty of money in her purse and a beautiful pair of
California blankets in her handsome trunk; when she had been afraid to
speak of the one or to show the other; when she had sat quietly and
received charity from people whose houses and land, furniture, horses,
and cows, she could have bought and given away without feeling their
loss; when she had been publicly berated by Nancy Shott for spending
money on luxuries which should have been used to pay her debts; when she
had been afraid to put her money in the bank for fear it would act as a
dynamite bomb and blow up the fortunes of her friends, and when she
could find no refuge from the miseries brought upon her by the necessity
of concealing her wealth except to go to bed and cover up her head so
that she should not hear the knock of some inquiring neighbor upon her
front door.
Then when she had made this background as dark and gloomy as it was
possible to make it, she placed before it the glittering picture of her
new existence in Plainton.
But this new life, bright as it now appeared to her, was not to be begun
without careful thought and earnest consideration. Ever since her
portion of the golden treasure had been definitely assigned to her, the
mind of Mrs. Cliff had been much occupied with plans for her future in
her old home.
It was not to be altogether a new life. All the friends she had in the
world, excepting Captain and Mrs. Horn, lived in Plainton. She did not
wish to lose these friends,--she did not wish to be obliged to make new
ones. With simple-minded and honest Willy Croup, who had long lived
with her and for her; with Mrs. Perley, the minister's wife; with all
her old neighbors and friends, she wished to live as she had always
lived, but, of course, with a difference. How to manage, arrange, and
regulate that difference was the great problem in her mind.
One thing she had determined upon: her money should not come between her
and those who loved her and who were loved by her. No matter what she
might do or what she might not do, she would not look down upon people
simply because she was rich, and oh, the blessed thought which followed
that! There would be nobody who could look down upon her because she was
not rich!
She did not intend to be a fine new woman; she did not intend to build a
fine new house. She was going to be the same Mrs. Cliff that she used to
be,--she was going to live in the same house. To be sure, she would add
to it. She would have a new dining-room and a guest's chamber over it,
and she would do a great many other things which were needed, but she
would live in her old home where she and her husband had been so happy,
and where she hoped he would look down from heaven and see her happy
until the end of her days.
As she thought of the things she intended to do, and of the manner in
which she intended to do them, Mrs. Cliff rose and walked the floor. She
felt as if she were a bird, a common-sized bird, perhaps, but with
enormous wings which seemed to grow and grow the more she thought of
them until they were able to carry her so far and so high that her mind
lost its power of directing them.
She determined to cease to think of the future, of what was going to be,
and to let her mind rest and quiet itself with what really existed. Here
she was in a great city full of wonders and delights, of comforts,
conveniences, luxuries, necessities, and all within her power. Almost
anything she could think of she might have; almost anything she wanted
to do she might do. A feeling of potentiality seemed to swell and throb
within her veins. She was possessed of an overpowering desire to do
something now, this moment, to try the power of her wealth.
Near her on the richly papered wall was a little button. She could touch
this and order--what should she order? A carriage and prancing pair to
take her to drive? She did not wish to drive. A cab to take her to the
shops, or an order to merchants to send her samples of their wares that
here, in her own room, like a queen or a princess, she might choose what
she wanted and think nothing of the cost? But no, she did not wish to
buy anything. She had purchased in Paris everything that she cared to
carry to Plainton.
She went and stood by the electric button. She must touch it, and must
have something! Her gold must give her an instant proof that it could
minister to her desires, but what should she ask for? Her mind travelled
over the whole field of the desirable, and yet not one salient object
presented itself. There was absolutely nothing that she could think of
that she wished to ask for at that moment. She was like a poor girl in
a fairy tale to whom the good fairy comes and asks her to make one wish
and it shall be granted, and who stands hesitating and trembling, not
being able to decide what is the one great thing for which she should
ask.
So stood Mrs. Cliff. There was a fairy, a powerful fairy, in her service
who could give her anything she desired, and with all her heart she
wanted to want something that minute. What should she want?
In her agitation she touched the bell. Half frightened at what she had
done, she stepped back and sat down. In a few minutes there was a knock,
the door opened, a servant entered. "Bring me a cup of tea," said Mrs.
Cliff.