THE STRANGE BOAT.
Miss Dornwood was evidently contrasting her present situation with the
happiness which had been her portion during the lifetime of her father.
It was not strange that she wept, as she compared the tenderness of her
devoted parent with the harshness and brutality of Charles Overton.
I had seen enough of him to convince me that she had not exaggerated
the truth, and I was so moved by her story that I was ready to do as
much as Waddie to assist her. There was nothing said, therefore, about
returning to the hotel, and the Belle dashed on her course over the
waves.
Tom Walton sat at the helm, drinking in every detail of the young
lady’s story, but still, from the force of habit, working the boat with
the nicest skill. He made long tacks, and had run nearly over to Port
Gunga, so that from this point he could lay a course directly through
the Narrows, about fifteen miles distant, without cramping her.
“Do you think his lordship is really a lord?” I asked, when Miss
Dornwood had become quiet, and we ceased to hear her sobs.
“I suppose he is. I have no reason to doubt it,” she replied. “He
showed me a letter from his father the other day.”
“Who is his father?”
“The letter was signed ‘Dumford.’ He explained that his father was
Earl of Dumford, and taking his father’s second title, he was called
Lord Palsgrave. I know nothing about these things, and really feel
no interest in them. He talks about the nobility of England with a
familiarity which indicates a thorough acquaintance, and, as I know
nothing about the matter, he might do so with entire impunity. He
clings to me all the time. I cannot go out of the house that he does
not follow me. He has not left me for so long a time since we first met
as he did to-day, when I encountered the bear. Indeed, I have not seen
him since; but, then, I was shut up in my room.”
“How did you get out of your prison?” inquired Waddie.
“As soon as it was dark, I went out of the window upon the roof of the
piazza, and entered one of the entries by another window. Passing down
the back stairs, I came to the grove, and made my way to the place
where I had seen your boat. Now, all I ask of you is, to convey me to
Mr. Pinkerton’s house. I will give you no further trouble.”
“Indeed, I shall be very glad to serve you to any extent you may
require,” said Waddie.
“Thank you; but I shall not have to trouble you any further, and I will
pay the boatman for what he has done.”
“Not a penny for me, miss. I should blush if I could take any money for
a job of this kind,” protested Tom.
“I really cannot see what motive your guardian has for compelling you
to marry this lord,” I added, changing the topic. “He will consent to
this, and his consent prevents him from reaping any benefit under your
father’s will.”
“I do not understand it myself,” replied Miss Dornwood.
“It would be his policy to withhold his consent, whoever the person may
be.”
“So it seems to me; but I hope I never shall see Lord Palsgrave again.
Charles knows that I dislike him, and this may be the reason why he
persecutes me.”
“Miss Dornwood, I don’t believe this Palsgrave is a lord any more than
I am,” I ventured to remark.
“Why, what makes you think he is not?” she asked, astonished at my
violent conclusion.
“I saw him get into a buggy and drive off with the drummer that we took
out of the burning canal-boat.”
“Is that so?” inquired Waddie.
“His voice sounded a little familiar to me, as I heard him speak to the
hardware man.”
“Are you sure it was he?” said Waddie.
“I did not know who it was then; but when I saw them drive off
together, I asked the stable-keeper who he was. He assured me it was
the English lord. I don’t think the nobility of England, as a general
rule, run with hardware drummers.”
“Did the drummer really go away with his lordship?” added Waddie,
rubbing his hands, as though he were delighted with the fact; and
I think by this time he had some idea himself of defeating the
matrimonial project of Lord Palsgrave.
“I could not have been mistaken.”
“A man is known by the company he keeps, and if that Schleifer isn’t a
scoundrel, I will never ask the privilege of guessing again. But you
must be tired by this time, Miss Dornwood.”
“I am, indeed, very tired. I am not strong, and the excitement of this
day has fatigued me very much,” she replied.
“There is a nice little cabin forward, and you shall have it all to
yourself. It is now only ten o’clock, and we shall not reach Ruoara
before one or two. You can go to sleep just the same as though you were
on shore.”
“I could not go to sleep, even if I were at home.”
“Well, you can lie down and rest yourself,” persisted Waddie.
After much persuasion she consented to occupy the cabin, and, as she
entered, Waddie closed the doors, for there was sufficient ventilation
through the blinds in them. As the Belle flew on her course, dashing
the spray smartly over her bow, we sat by the side of the skipper
discussing Lord Palsgrave. Certain I was that his voice had sounded
familiar to me; but I labored in vain to fasten it upon any person I
could recall to mind.
We heard nothing of our lady passenger, and we concluded she had gone
to sleep. Tom began to gape fearfully, and I felt very sleepy myself,
while Waddie was as wide awake as ever. At the suggestion of the
latter, Tom and I wrapped ourselves up in our overcoats, and stretching
ourselves upon the scats, went to sleep, leaving him at the helm. It
was not necessary that all of us should keep awake, and Waddie agreed
to call one of us to take his place in a couple of hours. I do not
thick my position was a very comfortable one, for I dreamed that an
enormous black bear had squatted down upon my stomach, and insisted
upon shaking hands with me. But my hands seemed to be tied behind me,
so that I could not comply with his bearship’s civil demand; and the
next best thing I could do was to struggle to free myself from the
weight that rested upon me, and made me feel very uncomfortable. I
continued to labor in this manner, when, instead of throwing off the
bear, I smashed the boat beneath me, with a loud crash. I waked under
this shock, and started to my feet to escape drowning in the lake.
“Boat ahoy!” shouted Waddie, as I stood up.
Then I realized that the Belle had actually struck something, the shock
of which had become part of my vision.
“What’s the matter, Waddie?” asked Tom Walton, who had been aroused by
the crash.
“I ran into a boat just now,” replied Waddie, straining his eyes to
penetrate the gloom which surrounded us.
“Where is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t see it, but I hear the stroke of oars.”
“What boat was it?”
“I don’t know, I only got a glimpse of her, as she slid off to leeward
of us.”
[Illustration: THE STRANGE BOAT. Page 101.]
“Where are we?”
“Right in the Narrows. Finding I was running too close to the
Middleport side, I let out the sheet and kept her away. In an instant I
struck the boat. There were two men in it, and that is all I know about
it. Hold on!” exclaimed he. “Take the helm, Tom, and I’ll light up the
lake.”
Waddie had brought with him some bengola lights, with which he purposed
to try an experiment in fishing. Taking one of these, he placed it on
the well-trap to keep it from burning the deck, and set it on fire. The
bengola blazed with a brilliant light, and the lake was illuminated
from one side to the other, for in the Narrows it was only a mile wide.
“There it is!” shouted Tom, pointing to a small row-boat, in which were
two persons, pulling with all their might towards the Centreport shore.
“Keep her away, Tom,” said I, earnestly. “I want to see who they are.”
Tom let out the sheet, and put the helm up; but the boat disappeared
behind the steamboat wharf before we could get near enough to see the
faces of the two men.
“No use; they are ashore by this time,” said Waddie.
“I don’t see what anybody should be crossing the lake for at this time
of night,” I added. “It is half past twelve.”
“There is something mysterious about that boat,” said Waddie, shaking
his head. “The men were not pulling when we struck the boat; if they
had been I should have heard them, and not run into her. When they saw
or heard the Belle, they must have stopped pulling. They didn’t speak,
or make any sound.”
“Of course they must have had a purpose in acting so,” I added, not a
little perplexed by the mystery which seemed to surround the movements
of the men.
“Why didn’t they speak after I hailed them? If they had been honest men
they would have said something after the bump the Belle gave them,”
added Waddie, much excited.
“I am afraid there is something wrong,” I continued.
“I don’t know why there should be,” interposed Tom Walton. “It isn’t so
very strange that a boat should cross the lake in the night. Perhaps
the men are going after a doctor for some one that is sick.”
“Why didn’t they speak when I hailed?” insisted Waddie. “Any honest man
would have sung out when we ran into his boat.”
“Perhaps they were frightened,” suggested Tom.
“They did not pull like men who were alarmed when we saw them.”
“Well, I thought they did pull just like men who were scared. They made
good time.”
“I’m not satisfied, and I should not be surprised to ace some building
blaze up in a few moments,” persisted Waddie.
This remark corresponded with my own thoughts. We were both thinking of
fires, for in all the towns upon the lake there had been a large number
of them within a few months, all of which were believed to have been
caused by incendiaries, though no one could comprehend the motives of
the miscreants who set them. In Centreport and Middleport several barns
and storehouses had been destroyed, and I was persuaded that the two
men in the boat were incendiaries.
“Shall I head her for Ruoara?” asked Tom, while we were discussing the
matter. “We are going to leeward now.”
“No; run her for the steamboat wharf at Centreport,” I replied. “I am
going ashore to see what those men are about.”
“All right,” added Tom, as he peered through the gloom to make out the
wharf.
“What do you say, Waddie? Will you land with me?” I asked, as we
approached the wharf. “Tom can land Miss Dornwood at Ruoara, and take
us on board when he returns.”
“I don’t know, I don’t exactly like to leave her, since she depends
upon me for assistance,” answered Waddie, hesitating. “If the
Pinkertons should happen to be away, she might wish to take some other
course.”
“I’ll tell you what will do just as well,” interposed the skipper. “I
will go with you, Wolf, and Waddie can sail the Belle down to Ruoara.”
“That will fit the case exactly,” replied Waddie, as the boat rounded
to at the landing-steps.
Taking our overcoats, Tom Walton and I went on shore. Still we heard
nothing from Miss Dornwood, and we thought she was sleeping very
soundly, if the shock of the collision had failed to wake her. We went
upon the wharf, but we could see nothing of the two men.
“I wonder what boat they came over in,” said Tom, as he descended the
steps to satisfy himself on this point.
“Do you make it out?” I asked, following him half way down.
“Yes, it is the Grace’s tender,” answered he.
“There will be a fire over here soon--you may depend upon it,” I
continued, as we walked up the steps again. “Nothing would suit me
better than to get hold of the villains.”
“I am with you there, Wolf,” added Tom, earnestly. “But, after all, it
isn’t so strange that a boat should cross the lake even at midnight.”
“Certainly there is nothing strange in the crossing of the boat, but
there is something very strange in the conduct of those men. It is the
most natural thing in the world for men to sing out when a boat runs
into them; but these men did not open their mouths. When the Belle
approached them, their boat was lying on the water, and they were
perfectly silent, evidently trying to avoid being seen. If they had
pulled straight across the lake, like honest men, I shouldn’t have
thought anything of their being out at this time of night.”
“Perhaps you are right,” added Tom.
“At any rate, we can take a turn around the town, where the barns and
storehouses are, and see if we can find them.”
We walked along the street by the side of the lake, looking carefully
into all the lanes and by-places.