MISS SARAH LIVERAGE.
For several months the landlord's son had had his eye on a new
keel-boat, built during the preceding winter, which the owner did not
feel able to keep for his own use. With a sort of desperate
determination, Leopold had been saving every cent he earned about the
hotel, or in his boat, in order to purchase this new craft, or one like
it if she should be sold before his accumulations enabled him to buy
her. The owner asked two hundred dollars for her; but as the season
advanced, Leopold hoped to buy her for less. The matter had looked very
hopeless to him until his first lucky catch of mackerel; and the second
fortunate trip inspired him with confidence. His uncle had been his only
confidant, and they had often discussed the project together. But now
Herr Schlager had advanced the sum he needed to make the purchase, and
the boat was bought. For two hours the young man had haggled with the
owner about the price; but one hundred and fifty dollars, cash down, was
a temptation which the builder could not resist in the end, when he
thought of his unpaid grocery and provision bills.
No name had yet been given to the new boat, which was now the property
of Leopold, for when the owner decided to sell her, he thought it was
better to let the purchaser christen her to suit himself. The new craft
was a sloop twenty-two feet long, with quite a spacious cuddy forward.
She was a fast sailer, and her late owner declared that she was the
stiffest sea-boat on the coast. Of course Leopold was as happy as a
lord, and he wanted to hug Herr Schlager for his considerate loan of
sixty-two dollars; but his uncle was quite as happy, and after the
custom of his own country, he did actually hug and kiss his nephew,
though the young man was rather confounded by the demonstration,
especially as the passers-by in the street halted to observe the
spectacle.
As soon as the business of the purchase was finished, Leopold hastened
to the cottage of Mrs. Wormbury, where he found Stumpy digging the early
potatoes in the garden. He informed his friend of the great event of the
day, and invited him to take a sail in the sloop. On their way to the
boat they stopped at the hotel, where Leopold told his father of the
purchase. He did so with some misgivings, and took care to explain the
uses to which he intended to put the boat, before his father had time to
express an opinion. Mr. Bennington, to the great satisfaction of his
son, offered no objection to the purchase; on the contrary, he seemed to
be pleased with the transaction.
"There are two gentlemen in the house that want to go over to the Isle
of Holt (Isle-au-Haut) this afternoon," added the landlord. "I was just
looking for you to go and see whether Ben Chipman could take them over."
"I can take them over myself, father," said Leopold.
"So I was thinking. They want to go right off after dinner."
"I shall be ready. We will bring the boat down now.--Will you go with
me, Stumpy?" continued Leopold, turning to his friend.
"I should like to go, first rate," answered Stumpy.
They hastened to the wharf where the new boat lay, and in a few minutes
more they were standing down the river in her.
"She works tip-top," said the skipper, as soon as he began to feel the
boat bearing on the tiller. "She minds her helm as soon as I touch the
stick."
"She's as handsome as a picture, too. She don't look much like your old
boat," replied Stumpy, with a smile as he realized the contrast.
"Not much. She seems to go at railroad speed. We haven't been used to
going along at this rate."
"That's so. What's her name Le?"
"She hasn't any yet. We will think of something for her."
The skipper sailed the boat down to the mouth of the river, and came
about off the light-house, located on a projecting cliff which extended
out nearly half a mile from the southern shore. The trial-trip was
entirely satisfactory; and on her return the sloop was moored near the
old boat, which was now used as a tender for the new one. The young
boatmen went home to get their dinners and made preparations for the
trip to the Isle-au-Haut. Leopold saw the two gentlemen who were to be
his passengers, and agreed to take them over for five dollars. They did
not object to the price, as the island was over ten miles distant, and
there would not be any packet for several days.
Leopold filled the water-keg in the sloop, and laid in a stock of
provisions for the voyage. At two o'clock the party started; but we do
not intend to follow them in the details of the trip. The breeze was
fresh and the sloop was fast. At four o'clock Leopold had landed his
passengers; but it was eight in the evening when the boat reached
Rockhaven on her return, for the skipper was obliged to beat back. The
five dollars earned in the voyage was promptly handed over to the
watch-maker, reducing by this amount the debt due him. By nine o'clock
Leopold was fast asleep, for he and Stumpy had arranged to try the
mackerel again the next morning.
The skipper of the new boat was very tired for the day had been a long,
laborious, and exciting one. It was four o'clock when he awoke the next
morning. When he went out, he found Stumpy waiting on the piazza for
him. He had not stopped to eat his breakfast, but had provision enough
in the basket for both of them.
"We are late," said Stumpy, as Leopold joined him.
"I know it; but I was so tired I didn't wake up," replied the skipper.
"I have seen half a dozen boats go down the river since I stood here,
added Stumpy, ruefully.
"I don't expect we shall do much to-day. Folks have found out about the
mackerel."
They went down to the new boat, and were soon under way. At the point,
they saw that all the craft which came out of the river were headed in
the same direction--towards the reef off High Rock.
"What are you going to call this boat?" asked Stumpy, as the skipper
started the sheets, off the light-house. "I don't feel quite at home in
her without being able to call her by name."
"I haven't thought of any name yet," replied Leopold.
"We want something to call her by."
"She has no name."
"Then we will call her the No-Name, till you fix upon something,"
laughed Stumpy.
"All right."
The "No-Name" passed half a dozen of the boats bound to the reef; but
when she reached her destination, there were not less than twenty craft,
of all sorts and sizes, on the fishing-ground, huddled into a heap, near
the spot where the luckless Waldo had gone down. The secret was out. A
fisherman going off to the deep water, on the morning before, had seen
Leopold's boat near the reef; and when it was said that the young man
had obtained a large catch of mackerel, he knew where they came from.
But the vicinity of the reefs was the usual place for catching these
fish when they were to be had at all; and as soon as there were mackerel
in the market, the fishermen and others knew where to go for them. In a
few moments Leopold had joined the crowd, and the fish bit as smartly as
before. The No-Name was more fortunate than most of her companions, and
got about four hundred mackerel. She might have got twice as many if she
had remained longer on the ground; but Leopold reasoned that fish
without a market were not very valuable. His was the first boat to reach
Rockhaven; and he sold his fare at seven cents apiece. By half past
eight the No-Name was washed down, and ready for a party, if any
offered. Stumpy went home with seven dollars in his pocket, and Leopold
diminished his debt by twenty-one dollars.
There was no "job" for him at the hotel that day; but in the afternoon
Leopold took his father and mother and Herr Schlager out to sail in the
new boat; and he was quite as happy on this occasion as though he had
made five dollars by the trip. The next morning there were no mackerel
off the ledges, or if there were, they would not bite; and the No-Name
made a profitless trip. When she returned, Leopold found two gentlemen
at the hotel who wished to sail over to Rockland, as there was no
steamer that day. While the skipper was making his trade with them,
Harvey Barth entered the office. The sick man had finished his narrative
of the loss of the Waldo the day before, and sent it off by the mail in
the steamer. He looked sadder and more gloomy than usual.
"I should like to go over with you," said Harvey, after Leopold had
named the price for the trip. "I will pay my share of it."
The gentlemen looked at Harvey and did not seem to like the appearance
of him; and he certainly did not promise to be a very agreeable
companion for an excursion. They took no notice of him, and the steward
was mortified by their coldness.
"Are you going to leave us, Mr. Barth?" asked the landlord, who was
behind the counter.
"Yes; I thought I would be on my way to New York as soon as I could, for
I want to find that drummer," drawled Harvey, with his usual hacking
cough. "I feel better this morning, and I think I can stand it to move
towards home. Those men don't seem to want me to go with them, but I
suppose I can wait till to-morrow. If you will give me my bill, I will
pay it."
"Never mind that, Mr. Barth."
"But I can pay what I owe."
"You can't pay anything here," laughed the landlord. "We don't charge
shipwrecked people anything."
"But I have been here about ten days."
"You can stay ten or twenty more at the same rate, if you will," added
Mr. Bennington.
Harvey Barth remonstrated, but the landlord was firm. The physician who
had attended him also refused to take a cent from him, and so did all
who had done anything for him. He tried to give a dollar apiece to the
employes of the hotel who had been kind to him, but not one of them
would accept the gift. When Harvey left the room, the two passengers for
Rockland asked the landlord who he was; and when informed that he was
the only survivor of the Waldo, they changed their tone, and desired his
company. They sent for him, and politely offered him a passage with
them.
"I don't want to go where I am not wanted," replied Harvey.
"But we shall be delighted to have you go with us," said one of the
gentlemen, and the other heartily indorsed the remark.
"I'll pay my share of the expense, if you are really willing to let me
go with you."
"We are glad to have you go with us; and as to the expense, we will
arrange that when we get to Rockland."
Shortly after the No-Name departed, manned, by Leopold and Stumpy, with
the three passengers in the standing-room. On the passage, Harvey, at
the request of his new friends, told the whole story of the wreck of the
Waldo, and then dwelt with particular emotion upon the loss of his
diary. One of the gentlemen resided in New York city, and volunteered to
assist him in recovering the cherished volume. When they arrived at
their destination, Harvey was not permitted to pay any portion of the
expense of the trip; and the gentlemen insisted upon his accompanying
them to the best hotel in the city, where from the abundant sympathy of
the proprietor, he was not permitted to diminish his funds by a single
dollar. Having, a few days after, obtained the fifty copies of the
newspaper which contained his account of the loss of the brig, he
started in the steamer for Boston, with a free ticket in his pocket.
His first care after he got on board the boat, was to read the narrative
he had written. He was sorely grieved to find that the first half of the
account had been struck out by the remorseless editor; but it must be
added that this portion of the history was wholly irrelevant, being made
up of observations on the outward voyage of the Waldo, and remarks upon
the geography, climate, people and institutions of Cuba. Then, in the
description of the wreck, Harvey was indignant when he found that all
his finest passages had been eliminated from the manuscript. Adjectives
and fine phrases without number had been struck out, and the poor
steward felt that he might as well never have been a schoolmaster. The
truth was, that the editor had only three columns of his paper to spare,
and all he and his readers wanted were the facts in regard to the wreck.
A vivid description of a tempest at sea seemed to be lost upon them. But
Harvey felt that he should not realize half the pleasure he had
anticipated in distributing the fifty copies of the paper among his
friends at home.
It was late at night when the No-Name arrived at her moorings in the
river at Rockhaven; for on the return trip the wind was contrary and
very light. Leopold, after this "job," had reduced his indebtedness to
Herr Schlager to about thirty-two dollars. Our space does not permit us
to follow him in the process of extinguishing the debt, but it was all
wiped out by the first of October. All the summer visitors had left the
place, and it was a "dry time" at the Cliff House. The landlord counted
up his profits, and felt rich when he realized that he owned the hotel,
did not owe a dollar to any man, and had twenty-five hundred dollars in
the bank, or otherwise available for immediate use. He had a plan drawn
for the enlargement of the hotel which would give him fifty chambers,
besides a large dining-room and parlor. But it would cost eight thousand
dollars to complete the building and furnish the house; and being a
prudent man, he decided not to carry out the project till his funds were
considerably increased.
About the middle of October the steamer brought to Rockhaven a woman,
apparently about forty years of age, who registered her name at the
Cliff House as Miss Sarah Liverage. Though it was certain, from her own
confession, that she had never been there before, she seemed to know all
about the hotel, and all the persons connected with it. She was a
plain-looking woman, well, but not richly, dressed, and her speech
indicated that she was not a cultivated person. There was nothing
remarkable about her, except her knowledge of the hotel, and a certain
excitement in her manner, which indicated that she had come to Rockhaven
for a special purpose, which, however, she was not forward in revealing.
She followed the landlord into the office, though he insisted upon
showing her into the parlor. She wrote her name in the register, and
then astonished Mr. Bennington and Leopold by asking to have the room
which had formerly been occupied by Harvey Barth assigned to her.
"That is not one of the rooms we usually give to ladies, and we can do
better for you," replied the landlord.
"I'd rather have that room, if it don't make any difference to you,"
replied Miss Liverage.
"Certainly you can have it, if you want it, for it is not occupied."
"I shall be much obliged to you if you will let me have it."
"You knew Harvey Barth, I suppose," said the landlord, as Leopold, who
often conducted guests to their rooms, picked up the small valise, which
was her only baggage.
"Well, yes; I ought to know him. I took care of him in the hospital
three weeks before he died," replied Miss Liverage, confidently.
"Is he dead?" asked Mr. Bennington, startled by the announcement.
"Yes, sir; he died about a fortnight ago."
"It is only six weeks since he left here," added Leopold, who was even
more shocked than his father at the news.
"We didn't hear a word from him after he left Rockland," continued Mr.
Bennington. "I'm sure I didn't think he was so near his end, though I
saw that he couldn't live very long."
"I thought he would be able to get out again, till the very day he died.
He ate a hearty dinner, for a sick man, and then was taken with
bleeding at the lungs, and died right off. I went with his body to the
place he was brought up, and he was buried a week ago last Thursday,
from the house of his uncle. He had good care while he lived, if he was
in the hospital; and I believe everybody in the town turned out to go to
his funeral. But I guess I'll go to my room now."
Leopold conducted her to the chamber, placed her valise in a chair, and
saw that the wash-stand was provided with water and towels.
"Are you sure this is the room that Harvey Barth had?" asked Miss
Liverage, as Leopold was about to retire.
"Sure as I am of anything," replied the young man. "I used to stay with
him a good deal, when I wasn't busy. Was Harvey Barth a relation of
yours?"
"Well, no, not exactly; but I was a good deal interested in him. You are
Leopold, I suppose," added Miss Liverage, who appeared to be anxious to
change the direction the conversation had taken.
"That's my name."
[Illustration: THE ARRIVAL OF MISS SARAH LIVERAGE. Page 121.]
"And this was Harvey's room," continued the woman glancing around the
chamber, and then bestowing especial attention upon the fireplace.
"This was his room," replied Leopold, as he moved towards the door. "Can
I do anything more for you?"
"No, nothing now. You are the boatman, I believe; and you have bought a
new boat."
"I bought one just before Harvey Barth left the house. Did he tell you
about her?"
"Well, nothing in particular, only he said you were a great boatman, and
a very good boy."
As the woman did not seem inclined to say anything more, Leopold left
the room, and returned to the office.
"Can you make out what she is, Leopold?" asked his father.
"No; she says she is no relation to Harvey, but she was a good deal
interested in him. She seems to know all about me; but I suppose Harvey
Barth told her."
"I wonder what she is driving at?" added the landlord, whose curiosity,
as well as that of his son, was raised to the highest pitch.
"I haven't any idea. If she is not a relation of Harvey, what is she,
and why did she want his room?"
"I can't tell."
"How old do you think she is, father?"
"About forty, I should say."
"Harvey couldn't have been engaged to her, or anything of that
sort--could he?" suggested Leopold.
"I should think not. She is ten years older than he was, I should say,"
replied Mr. Bennington.
No satisfactory solution presented itself, and Miss Sarah Liverage had
to remain a mystery for the time.