MOONLIGHT ON THE JUNO.
Donald felt that he was in hot water, in spite of the assurance of
Captain Patterdale that he believed him innocent of all wrong, and he
was sorry that he had made any bargains, conditional or otherwise, with
Captain Shivernock or Laud Cavendish. The nabob would not tell him what
was wrong, and he could not determine whether Laud or some other person
had stolen the money. He went into the house on his return from the
elegant mansion. His mother had gone to watch with a sick neighbor,
though his sister Barbara was sewing in the front room.
Donald was troubled, not by a guilty conscience, but by the fear that he
had innocently done wrong in concealing his relations with Captain
Shivernock and with Laud Cavendish. Somehow the case looked different
now from what it had before. Laud had told where he got his money, and
given a good reason, as it seemed to him at the time, for concealment;
but why the strange man desired secrecy he was utterly unable to
imagine. He almost wished he had told Captain Patterdale all about his
meeting with Captain Shivernock on Long Island, and asked his advice. It
was not too late to do so now. Donald was so uneasy that he could not
sit in the house, and went out doors. He walked about the beach for a
time, and then sat down in front of the shop to think the matter over
again.
Suddenly, while he was meditating in the darkness, he saw the trunk
lights of the Maud illuminated, as though there was a fire in her cabin.
He did not wait to study the cause, but jumping into his skiff, he
pushed off, and sculled with all his might towards the yacht. He was mad
and desperate, for the Maud was on fire! He leaped on board, with the
key of the brass padlock which secured the cabin door in his hand; but
he had scarcely reached the deck before he saw a man on the wharf
retreating from the vicinity of the yacht. Then he heard the flapping of
a sail on the other side of the pier; but he could not spend an instant
in ascertaining who the person was. He opened the cabin door, and
discovered on the floor a pile of shavings in flames. Fortunately there
was a bucket in the standing-room, with which he dashed a quantity of
water upon the fire, and quickly extinguished it. All was dark again;
but to make sure, Donald threw another pail of water on the cabin floor,
and then it was not possible for the fire to ignite again.
Although the deck had been swept clean before the launch, the side next
to the wharf was littered with shavings, and a basket stood there, in
which they had been brought on board, for it was still half full. Donald
found that one of the trunk lights had been left unfastened, in the
hurry and excitement of attending the festival at Mr. Rodman's house.
Through the aperture the incendiary had stuffed the shavings, and
dropped a card of lighted matches upon them, for he saw the remnants of
it when he threw on the first water. Who had done this outrageous deed?
Donald sprang upon the wharf as he recalled the shadowy form and the
flapping sail he had seen. Leaping upon the pier, he rushed over to the
other side, where he discovered a sail-boat slowly making her way, in
the gentle breeze, out of the dock.
Beyond a peradventure, the boat was the Juno. Her peculiar rig enabled
him readily to identify her. Was Laud Cavendish in her, and was he
wicked enough to commit such an act? Donald returned to the Maud to
assure himself that there was no more fire in her. He was satisfied that
the yacht was not injured, for he had extinguished the fire before the
shavings were well kindled. He fastened the trunk lights securely,
locked the cabin door, and taking possession of the basket, he embarked
in his skiff again. Sculling out beyond the wharf, he looked for the
Juno. The wind was so light she made but little headway, and was
standing off shore with the breeze nearly aft. It was Laud's boat, but
it might not be Laud in her. Why should the wretch attempt to burn the
Maud?
Then the scene in Mr. Rodman's garden, when Laud had been invited to
leave, came to his mind, and Donald began to understand the matter.
While he was thinking about it, the moon came out from behind a cloud
which had obscured it, and cast its soft light upon the quiet bay,
silvering the ripples on its waters with a flood of beauty.
Donald glanced at the basket in the skiff, still half filled with
shavings. It was Laud's basket, beyond a doubt, for he had often seen
it when the owner came down to the shore to embark in his boat. The
initials of his father's name, "J. C.," were daubed upon the outside of
it, for there is sometimes as much confusion in regard to the ownership
of baskets as of umbrellas. Donald was full of excitement, and full of
wrath; and as soon as he got the idea of the guilty party through his
head, he sculled the skiff with all the vigor of a strong arm towards
the Juno, easily overhauling her in a few moments. He was so excited
that he dashed his skiff bang into the Juno, to the serious detriment of
the white paint which covered her side.
"What are you about, Don John?" roared Laud Cavendish, who had seen the
approaching skiff, but had not chosen to hail her.
"What are you about?" demanded Donald, answering the question with
another, Yankee fashion, as he jammed his boat-hook into the side of the
Juno, and drew the skiff up to the yacht, from which it had receded.
Taking the painter, he jumped on the forward deck of the Juno, with the
boat-hook still in his hand.
"What do you mean by smashing into me in that kind of style, and jabbing
your boat-hook into the side of my boat?" cried Laud, as fiercely as he
could pitch his tones, though there seemed to be a want of vim to them.
"What do you mean by setting the Maud afire?" demanded Donald. "That's
what I want to know."
"Who set her afire?" replied Laud, in rather hollow tones.
"You did, you miserable spindle-shanks!"
"I didn't set her afire, Don John," protested Laud.
"Yes, you did! I can prove it, and I will prove it, too."
"You are excited, Don John. You don't know what you are talking about."
"I think I do, and I'll bet you'll understand it, too, if there is any
law left in the State of Maine."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean what I say, and say what I mean."
"I haven't been near the Maud."
"Yes, you have! Didn't I see you sneaking across the wharf? Didn't I see
your mainsail alongside the pier? You can't humbug me. I know a pint of
soft soap from a pound of cheese," rattled Donald, who could talk very
fast when he was both excited and enraged; and Laud's tongue was no
match for his member.
"I tell you, I haven't been near the Maud."
"Don't tell me! I saw it all; I have two eyes that I wouldn't sell for
two cents apiece; and I'll put you over the road at a two-forty gait."
Laud saw that it was no use to argue the point, and he held his peace,
till the boat-builder had exhausted his rhetoric, and his stock of
expletives.
"What did you do it for, Laud?" asked he, at last, in a comparatively
quiet tone.
"I have told you a dozen times I didn't do it," replied the accused.
"You talk so fast I can't get a word in edgeways."
"It's no use for you to deny it," added Don John.
"Do you think I'd burn your yacht?"
"Yes, I do; and I know you tried to do it. If I hadn't been over by the
shop, you would have done it."
[Illustration: DON JOHN VISITS THE JUNO. Page 230.]
"I didn't do it, I repeat. Do you think I would lie about it? Do you
think I have no sense of honor about me!"
"Confound your honor!" sneered Donald.
"Don't insult me. When you assail my honor, you touch me in a tender
place."
"In a soft place, and that's in your head."
"Be careful, Don John. I advise you not to wake a sleeping lion."
"A sleeping jackass!"
"I claim to be a gentleman, and my honor is my capital stock in life."
"You have a very small capital to work on, then."
"I warn you to be cautious, Don John. My honor is all I have to rest
upon in this world."
"It's a broken reed. I wouldn't give a cent's worth of molasses candy
for the honor of a fellow who would destroy the property of another,
because he got mad with him."
In spite of his repeated warnings, Laud Cavendish was very forbearing,
though Donald kept the boat-hook where it would be serviceable in an
emergency.
"No, Don John, I did not set the Maud afire. Though you went back on me
this afternoon, and served me a mean and shabby trick, I wouldn't do
such a thing as burn your property."
"Who went back on you?" demanded Donald.
"You did; when you could have saved me from being driven out of the
garden, you took the trouble to say, you did not invite me," replied
Laud, reproachfully.
"I didn't invite you; and I had no right to invite you."
"No matter for that; if you had just said that your friend, Mr.
Cavendish, had come in with you it would have been all right."
"My friend, Mr. Cavendish!" repeated Donald, sarcastically. "I didn't
know I had any such friend."
"I didn't expect that of you, after what I had done for you, Don John."
"Spill her on that tack! You never did anything for me."
"I took that boat off your hands, and I suppose you got a commission for
selling her. Wasn't that doing something for you?"
"No!" protested Donald.
"I have always used you well, and done more for you than you know of.
You wouldn't have got the job to build the Maud if it hadn't been for
me. I spoke a good word for you to Mr. Rodman," whined Laud.
"You!" exclaimed Donald, disgusted with this ridiculous pretension. "If
you said anything to Mr. Rodman about it, I wonder he didn't give the
job to somebody else."
"You think I have no influence, but you are mistaken; and if you insist
on quarrelling with me, you will find out, when it is too late, what
folks think of me."
"They think you are a ninny; and when they know what you did to-night,
they will believe you are a knave," replied Donald. "You didn't cover
your tracks so that I couldn't find them; and I can prove all I say. I
didn't think you were such a rascal before."
"You won't make anything out of that sort of talk with me, Don John,"
said Laud, mildly. "You provoke me to throw you overboard, but I don't
want to hurt you."
"I'll risk your throwing me overboard. I can take care of myself."
"I said I didn't want to hurt you, and I don't. I didn't set your boat
afire; I wouldn't do such a thing."
"You can tell that to Squire Peters to-morrow."
"You don't mean to say that you will prosecute me, Don John?"
"Yes; I do mean it."
"I came down from the harbor, and tacked between those two wharves,"
explained Laud. "I was standing off on this tack when you bunted your
skiff into me. That's all I know about it."
"But I saw you on the wharf. No matter; we won't argue the case here,"
said Donald, as he made a movement to go into his skiff.
"Hold on, Don John. I want to talk with you a little."
"What about?"
"Two or three things. I am going off on a long cruise in a day or two. I
think I shall go as far as Portland, and try to get a situation in a
store there."
"I don't believe you will have a chance to go to Portland, or anywhere
else, unless it's Thomaston, where the state prison is located."
"I didn't think you would be so rough on me, Don John. I didn't set your
boat afire; but I can see that it may go hard with me, because I
happened to be near the wharf at the time."
"You will find that isn't the worst of it," added Donald.
"What is the worst of it?"
"Never mind; I'll tell Squire Peters to-morrow, when we come together."
"Don't go to law about it, Don John; for though I didn't do it, I don't
want to be hauled up for it. Even a suspicion is sometimes damaging to
the honor of a gentleman."
"You had better come down from that high horse, and own up that you set
the Maud afire."
"Will you agree not to prosecute, if I do?" asked Laud.
Donald, after his anger subsided, thought more about the "white cross of
Denmark" than he did about the fire; for the latter had done him no
damage, while the former might injure his character which he valued more
than his property.
"I will agree not to prosecute, if you will answer all my questions," he
replied; but I confess that it was an error on the part of the young
man.
Donald fastened the painter of his skiff at the stern, and took a seat
in the standing-room of the Juno.
"I will tell you all I know, if you will keep me out of the courts,"
added Laud, promptly.
"Why did you set the Maud afire?"
"Because I was mad, and meant to get even with you for what you did at
Rodman's this afternoon. You might do me a great service, Don John, if
you would. I like Nellie Patterdale; I mean, I'm in love with her. I
don't believe I can live without her."
"I'll bet you'll have to," interposed Donald, indignantly.
"You don't know what it is to love, Don John."
"I don't want to know yet awhile; and I think you had better live on a
different sort of grub. What a stupid idea, for a fellow like you to
think of such a girl as Nellie Patterdale!"
"Is it any worse for me to think of her, than it is for you to do so?"
asked Laud.
"I never thought of her in any such way as that. We went to school
together, and have always been good friends; that's all."
"That's enough," sighed Laud. "I actually suffer for her sake. If the
quest were hopeless," Laud read novels--"I think I should drown myself."
"You had better do it right off, then," added Donald.
"You can pity me, Don John, for I am miserable. Day and night I think
only of her. My feelings have made me almost crazy, and I hardly knew
what I was about when I applied the incendiary torch to the Maud."
"I thought it was a card of friction matches."
"The world will laugh and jeer at me for loving one above my station;
but love makes us equals."
"Perhaps it does when the love is on both sides," added the practical
boat-builder.
"But I think I am fitted to adorn a higher station than that in which I
was born."
"If so, you will rise like a stick of timber forced under the water; but
it strikes me that you have begun in the wrong way to figure for a
rise."
"But I wish to rise only for Nellie's sake. You can help me, Don John;
you can take me into her presence, where I can have the opportunity to
win her affection."
"I guess not, Laud. Shall I tell you what she said to me this
afternoon?"
"Tell me all."
"She said you were an impudent puppy, and she was sorry I invited you."
"Did she say that?" asked Laud, looking up to the cold, pale moon.
"She did; and I was obliged to tell her that I didn't invite you."
"Perhaps I have been a fool," mused the lover.
"There's no doubt of it. Nellie Patterdale dislikes, and even despises
you. I have heard her say as much, in so many words. That ought to
comfort you, and convince you that it is no use to fish any longer in
those waters."
"Possibly you are right; but it is only because she does not know me. If
she only knew me better--"
"She would dislike and despise you still more," said Donald, sharply.
"If she only knew that you set the Maud afire, she would love you as a
homeless dog likes the brickbats that are thrown at him."
"You will not tell her that, Don John?"
"I will not tell her, or any one else, if you behave yourself. Now I
want to ask some more questions."
"Go on, Don John."
"Where did you get the money you paid for the Juno?" demanded Donald,
with energy.
"Where did I get it?" repeated Laud, evidently startled by the question,
so vigorously put. "I told you where I got it."
"Tell me again."
"Captain Shivernock gave it to me."
"What for?"
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Because it is a matter between the captain and me."
"I don't care if it is. You said you would answer all my questions, if I
would not prosecute."
"Questions about the Maud," explained Laud. "I have told you the secret
of my love--"
"Hang the secret of your love!" exclaimed Donald, disgusted with that
topic. "I meant all questions."
"But I cannot betray the secrets of Captain Shivernock. My honor--"
"Stick your honor up chimney!" interrupted Donald. "If you go back on
the agreement, I shall take the fire before Squire Peters. The question
I asked was, why Captain Shivernock gave you four or five hundred
dollars?"
"I wish I could answer you, Don John; but I do not feel at liberty to do
so just now. I will see the captain, and perhaps I may honorably give
you the information you seek."
"You needn't mince the matter with me. I know all about it now; but I
want it from you."
"All about what?" asked Laud.
"You needn't look green about it. Do you remember the Saturday when I
told you the Juno was for sale?"
"I do, very distinctly," answered Laud. "You were in the Juno at the
time."
"I was; we parted company, and you stood over towards the Northport
shore."
"Just so."
"Over there you met Captain Shivernock."
"I didn't say I did."
"But I say you did," persisted Donald. "For some reason best known to
himself, the captain did not want any one to know he was on Long Island
that night."
Laud listened with intense interest.
"Do you know what his reason was, Don John?"
"No, I don't. You saw his boat, and overhauled him near the shore."
"Well?"
"You overhauled him near the shore, and he gave you a pile of money not
to say that you had seen him."
"It is you who says all this, and not I," added Laud, with more spirit
than he had before exhibited. "My honor is not touched."
"I wish you wouldn't say anything more about your honor. It is like a
mustard seed in a haymow, and I can't see it," snapped Donald.
"You can see that I came honorably by the money."
"Honestly by it; I am satisfied on that point," replied Donald. "If I
had not been, I wouldn't have sold you the boat. You see I knew
something of Captain Shivernock's movements about that time. If I
hadn't, I wouldn't have believed that he gave it to you."
"Then you must have seen the captain at the same time."
"I didn't say I saw him," laughed Donald. "But the wind is breezing up,
and we are half way over to Brigadier Island. Come about, Laud."
The skipper acceded to the request, and headed the Juno for Belfast.