THE WRECK OF THE PENOBSCOT.
"That's the Penobscot!" exclaimed Bobtail, as soon as he identified her.
"She is taking a nasty night to go to sea," added Monkey.
"She will put into Rockland or Camden. I suppose the colonel is in a
hurry to get to Newport for some race. He told me yesterday he should
sail to-day."
"She ain't going into Camden. If she was, she wouldn't be out there.
She's right off the ledges, and if she don't tack soon, she'll be on
'em," said the Darwinian.
"I think she's going into Rockland. She can make it in one more
stretch."
"She can get in behind Owl's Head, and lay as easy as if she was in a
mill pond."
"That's an awful sea out there, Monkey," said Bobtail. "See the
breakers on that lower ledge. If I was the captain of the Penobscot, I
should go in stays. There she goes!"
At this moment the sails of the large yacht shook, as her head came up
to the wind. But the next instant she fell off, heeled over, and drove
ahead again. Bobtail distinctly heard a shout from her, though she was a
mile distant. He watched her with his heart in his mouth, and his worst
fears were realized when he saw her lift her bow high up in the water.
She had run upon the ledge.
"By gracious! she is on the rocks!" cried Bobtail, wild with excitement
and anxiety.
"So she is!" gasped Monkey.
Then came a shriek in the tones of a woman's voice, whose piercing note
was heard above the roaring of the billows.
"That's Mrs. Montague," said Bobtail. "Get your warp-line out, Monkey.
We have got something to do to-night."
The Skylark flew on her mission of rescue, and her skipper watched the
Penobscot with intense interest. Her bow rose and fell at every sea, and
it was evident that she was crashing her timbers at every motion. In
five minutes from the time she struck, the smaller yacht came up with
her. She had gone upon the last ledge of the series that extends to the
southward from Islesboro'. Bobtail ran to the west of the ledges, and,
going entirely round to avoid gybing, he came up into the wind close
under the stern of the Penobscot. He heard her planks and timbers
grinding on the rocks. Monkey heaved the warp-line, which was caught by
the sailors on board of the wreck. The mainsail of the Skylark was
lowered.
By this time, though the waves still beat over the bow of the Penobscot,
she ceased to grind upon the rocks. The tide was going out, and less of
the weight of the vessel was supported by the water, and as the volume
of the waves diminished, their power lessened. In two or three hours the
yacht would be high and dry. She had gone upon the ledge in a direction
diagonal with the wind, so that under one of her quarters the water was
comparatively smooth. Bobtail and Monkey heaved on the warp-line till
they brought the Skylark alongside this lee quarter.
"No time to lose, sir!" shouted Bobtail to Colonel Montague, who was
supporting his wife and daughter on deck, for the cabin was flooded with
water. "I shall be aground in half an hour."
"Can your boat weather this blow?" asked the colonel, anxiously.
"Yes, sir; she can stand anything that any boat can."
Mrs. Montague and Grace were assisted on board of the Skylark, which,
even in this sheltered place, rolled, pitched, and tugged furiously at
the warp-line. The colonel and another gentleman, whom Bobtail had not
seen before, helped old Mr. Montague down to the rail of the Penobscot.
"You go first, Tom, and help him down," said Colonel Montague.
The sailing master of the Penobscot also took the old gentleman's arm.
The Hon. Mr. Montague seemed to be very feeble, and he was certainly
very much terrified.
"Put your arm around that shroud, Mr. Barkesdale," said the captain to
the person whom the colonel called Tom.
Tom Barkesdale stood upon the rail then, with his left arm around one of
the shrouds of the Skylark. The stern of the Penobscot was down so low
in the water, that it was not a long step down from the rail to that of
the smaller yacht. Tom took the hand of the old gentleman as he stepped
down; but at that instant the warp-line, which held the bow of the
Skylark, snapped in twain, and her head swung off. His son and the
skipper had just let go of the old gentleman, and Tom's hold was
wrenched away by a jerk of the boat. Mr. Montague went down between the
two craft.
"Merciful Heaven!" cried the colonel. "Father is overboard!"
"Throw me a rope," yelled the sailing-master, as he dropped into the
water and caught the old gentleman as he rose after sinking once.
Several lines were thrown to him, and with so many ready hands
available, they were both drawn on board of the yacht in a moment.
Though the venerable gentleman had received a terrible shock, he was not
rendered insensible. The bow of the Skylark was again hauled up to the
quarter of the Penobscot, and Mr. Montague was safety transferred to the
cabin of the small yacht "What will you do, captain?" asked the colonel
of the sailing-master.
"I will stick by her with the crew. At low tide we will take the ballast
out of her, and float her off the next tide."
"Are your men willing to stay?"
"They must stay; they are as safe here as on shore; at least till the
next tide, and I shall be ready to float her off by that time."
Colonel Montague went on board of the Skylark. A couple of men from the
Penobscot were sent to assist in working her, though Bobtail protested
that he had not the least need of them. The close-reefed mainsail was
hoisted, and the Skylark went off on her course. By this time it was
quite dark, but the light-house on Negro Island was a sufficient guide
to the skipper. The yacht rolled fearfully, and to keep out of the
trough of the sea Bobtail headed her to a point south of his
destination. In an hour he was as near the main land as it was prudent
to venture in the night, and then he put the Skylark before the wind.
Before eleven o'clock he was at the wharf. He had not seen his
passengers since they came on board.
"My father has suffered severely from his mishap," said Colonel
Montague, after the boat was made fast.
"I'm sorry for it, sir. I didn't think of such a thing as that warp-line
breaking," replied Bobtail.
"Of course it was not your fault. You have done well for us, and I have
no fault to find with you. I want some one to go to the hotel, and tell
the landlord to send a coach, for my father cannot walk up."
"Monkey will go;" and the Darwinian was on his way in a moment.
The Hon. Mr. Montague was apparently very ill. The cold bath and the
shock had severely shaken his frame. He was trembling with cold when
Bobtail went below, and Mrs. Montague was holding his head. He was
wrapped up in shawls, coats, and all the clothing available. The lady
and her daughter spoke very kindly to the young skipper; but they were
too much disturbed by the condition of the old gentleman to say much.
"I think you ought to have a doctor, Ned," said Tom Barkesdale.
"Send for one at once, then," said the colonel.
"What are you going to do, Edward?" asked the old gentleman, in feeble
tones.
"I have sent for a coach, to take you to the hotel."
"I want to go home. Can't I go in this boat?"
"It blows too hard to-night, father."
"A boat is easier than a carriage. Let me go home in this boat, when the
wind goes down."
"Then we had better not take him on shore," said Tom. "We can make up a
good bed in this cabin for him."
"Do, Edward," groaned the old gentleman.
"I will go to the hotel, and get everything we need," added Tom, "and
Bobtail shall go for the doctor."
In half an hour the skipper returned with Dr. Estabrook, and the coach
came with an abundant supply of beds and bedding. Mrs. Montague and her
daughter went up to the Bay View, while the gentleman took off the wet
clothes of the sufferer, and put him to bed. A fire was made in the
cook-room, which heated the cabin when the door was open. The doctor
prescribed for his patient, and he was soon made more comfortable. About
midnight the rain began to fall in torrents, and the wind howled
fearfully. But the storm lasted only a couple of hours, and at three
o'clock in the morning the wind came fresh from the westward, and the
sky was clear. The change knocked down the sea, and made a fair wind for
Belfast. Tom Barkesdale went to the hotel for Mrs. Montague and Grace,
and at four o'clock the Skylark sailed. She made a comfortable passage
of it, and reached the town in three hours.
Mr. Montague's clothes had been dried, and he was dressed. His carriage
was sent for, and he was conveyed to his elegant mansion. His family
physician superintended his removal. He had hardly entered the house,
when he was taken with the most alarming symptoms. In less than half an
hour he breathed his last, and there were weeping and wailing in the
elegant mansion. Death comes alike to the rich and the poor, and invades
the palace as well as the hovel.
Colonel Montague wept like a child; the strong man was shaken by the
throes of grief. He felt that he would have given all he had for the
consciousness that he had never deceived that kind and indulgent father
who lay silent in death before him. An hour after the sad event, Tom
Barkesdale tried to comfort his friend.
"I would give the world if I had never deceived him," moaned the
grief-stricken son.
"It was all for the best. Your father has passed away full of years and
honors. It is well as it is."
"No, no, Tom! It was all wrong."
"You have only saved him from misery, which might have killed him years
ago, for the doctor says he had a disease of the heart. Don't reproach
yourself, Ned."
"Where is the boy--Robert?" he asked suddenly. "I have wronged him still
more. Where is he?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since we left the boat."
"Go for him, Tom. Bring him back. He shall not suffer this wrong another
hour. He is a noble little fellow, and I am proud of him. Bring him
back."
Tom went to the wharf in the carriage, but the Skylark was three miles
down the bay, on her way to Camden. It was of no use to chase that boat,
and the messenger returned to his weeping friend.
"Go to him, Tom; tell him all, and bring him back," said Colonel
Montague; and his friend took the next steamer for Camden.
Little Bobtail had sailed as soon as the invalid was landed, for he was
anxious to be at home when the Eagle arrived. He had been up all night,
while Monkey had slept in the cook-room; and as soon as the Skylark was
clear of the harbor, the skipper gave the helm to the Darwinian, and
turned in. He was sleeping heavily in the cabin of the yacht, while the
telegraph wires were flashing all over the state the intelligence of the
death of the Hon. Mr. Montague. The wind was light, so that the Skylark
made a long passage: and Monkey did not wake the skipper till the yacht
was off North-east Point. He had slept five hours, and felt like a new
man. He went on shore as soon as the boat came up to the wharf, and
ascertained that the Eagle had not yet arrived. Walking up to the
cottage, he found his mother sitting on the front doorstep, in the
shade, sewing.
"Why, Robert, where did you come from?"
"From Belfast last."
"Did he die before you got there?"
"Die? Who?"
"Why, old Mr. Montague."
"He isn't dead."
"Yes, he is. The telegram came this forenoon."
"But I helped him on shore myself at seven o'clock this morning."
"He died at half past seven, the despatch says. And you didn't know it?"
"No, I didn't. That's strange. But I started for home as soon as I saw
him in the carriage, and slept all the way down."
Mrs. Taylor had not seen her son since the examination at the office of
Squire Norwood, but she had heard that he returned from Mount Desert
late at night, and had gone to Belfast early in the morning. Bobtail had
begun to relate his adventures at Mount Desert, when Squire Gilfilian
presented himself at the door. It was known now that the Skylark had
been to Bar Harbor, with Mr. Hines and the deputy sheriff as passengers.
The young skipper had told this the night before, but nothing more--not
even that his passengers had not returned with him. The squire had heard
this report, and he was anxious to know the result of the visit.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Taylor," said the lawyer. "I am glad to find your
son here, for I want to talk with him. But I wish to say to you, in the
first place, that I don't consider that mortgage fairly cancelled."
"Why not? Didn't I pay you the money?" asked Mrs. Taylor, very much
alarmed.
"You did, but that bill was already mine. Mr. Slipwing sent me five
hundred dollars, and I have received it--the very bill he sent. From you
and from him I ought to have a thousand dollars, but I have only half
that amount."
"Am I to lose that money?" demanded the poor woman.
"Well, am I?" echoed the squire, with a bland smile. "If my horse is
stolen, I take him wherever I find him, and whoever has bought or sold
him."
The lawyer was talking to a woman knowing but little of law and
business, and he was doubtful himself whether he could claim that bill
after it had passed, in good faith, through the hands of several
persons.
"I don't think it's right," protested Mrs. Taylor.
"Nor I, either," added Bobtail. "My mother didn't steal it, and I didn't
steal it."
"No one knows who did steal it," said the squire. "Captain Chinks still
contends that you took the letter, my boy; and he has gone down to Bar
Harbor to ascertain how the bill got there. He thinks you heard of that
boat, and sent some one down to buy her. He means to look up the case."
"He'll look it up with a vengeance," replied Bobtail. "It is already
looked up."
"What do you mean? I hear that you have been to Bar Harbor."
"I have."
"Did you see Captain Chinks?"
"I haven't anything to say about it," answered Bobtail.
"Can't you tell me whether you saw him or not?" asked the squire, in his
cross-examination style.
"I can, but I would rather not. Mr. Brooks told me to keep still about
it, and I'm going to do so."
The squire coaxed and threatened, but without effect.
"You will know all about it to-day or to-morrow. There comes the
Eagle,--Captain Chinks's boat, Squire Gilfilian. He's in her, and he
will tell you all you want to know, and more too, perhaps."
The lawyer was not in good humor, though he was, in the main, a very
good sort of man. He did not like to have a boy like Little Bobtail say
no to him.
"I must say, Mrs. Taylor, it looks rather black for your son. Colonel
Montague testifies that the bill which was stolen with the letter was
paid for a boat to a gentleman at Bar Harbor. Your son comes home one
night with a boat, and no one knows where he got it," said Squire
Gilfilian, sharply.
"He told where he got it, and he was discharged at the examination
yesterday," replied Mrs. Taylor, smartly.
"We shall see when Captain Chinks gets back."
"I think you will see," added Bobtail.
"In the mean time, Mrs. Taylor, I shall expect you to pay the mortgage
note," said the squire, as he walked towards the railroad wharf, where
the Eagle appeared to be headed.
Bobtail soon followed him, and was at the wharf when the Eagle came up
at the steps.
"So you have arrived, Bobtail," said Mr. Hines.
"I got in at eleven o'clock last night, and should have been here sooner
if I hadn't stopped to pick up the Penobscot's people," replied the
skipper of the Skylark, as he proceeded to describe his cruise, and tell
the news of the wreck, and of the death of the Hon. Mr. Montague.
"And so you have been to Belfast since?"
"Yes; and been back some time. Where's Captain Chinks? Squire Gilfilian
wants to see him," added Bobtail, as the lawyer came down the steps.
"The captain is below. He is all used up, and willing to confess
everything. But we must take him down to Rockland at once, and we will
go in the Skylark. For we want her there."
"She's all ready, sir."
"Where's Captain Chinks?" demanded the squire.
The captain came on deck when he heard the lawyer's voice. He was pale
and dejected. The Eagle had anchored under the lee of an island during
the storm, and Mr. Hines had explained to him both the law and the
nature of the testimony. The detective told him he would probably get
off easier if he pleaded guilty, and made all the restitution in his
power. The captain had about concluded to do so, but he desired to
consult his counsel.
"It's a light wind, and we must be off at once," said Mr. Hines,
impatiently. "You can go with us, if you like, Squire Gilfilian, but I
can't wait for you to discuss the case."
The squire was willing to go to Rockland, and in half an hour the
Skylark was standing down the bay.