University of Virginia Library

9. CHAPTER IX.
THE LANDING.

The party, headed by the corsair, and
guided by Randolph, after reaching the
top of the bank, took its way along a path,
through the gardens, that led to the east
front of the house. It was retired and
little frequented.

“You seem to know the way well!”

“Yes, I have-taken fish up to the house
this way,” answered Randolph evasively,
in allusion to the fruits of his own pastime.

“Have you ever met the sons of General
Ledyard?”

“Yes, I have seen them.”

“I am told the younger is remarkable
only for his beauty, and the partiality
shown him by his parents. The elder I
have met!”

“Met!”

“Yes. It was in the night, however,
and we scarcely saw one another's faces.
It was in the lobby passage leading from
the theatre. He was escorting this same
Miss Oglethorpe to her carriage. I had
invited her to the theatre the same evening,
and she refused me. I was enraged
at seeing her with another. I therefore
thrust myself between them, and separated
them, passing my arm around her,
and touching her cheek with my lip in
mere wantonness. Ledyard struck me.
I returned the blow—the crowd pressed
upon us, and so we parted. We have not
met since. I am told he is betrothed to
the maiden. She shall be mine ere she
is his, nevertheless. An half hour here
will be all we shall need, and an hour
more will bring us to the house of Colonel
Oglethorpe!”

It was fortunate that the darkness of
the night concealed the fiery expression
of Randolph's countenance at hearing the
words that had fallen upon his ear. The
man he had most wished to meet for two
years past was within the reach of his
clenched hand. But he restrained himself.
He commanded his vengeance; but
his heart bounded with triumphant joy.

“This man and I ne'er part, both living,”
he said within his soul.—“We are
thrice mortal foes. Let him be my tool
for bringing judgment upon this wicked
woman, and then I hold his destiny in my
hands!”

They approached the dwelling. A single
light burned in the drawing-room.
The corsair bade his men stand in the
shadow of a tree that overhung the steps
of the house, while he followed Randolph
to the door.

“I would have thee ask at the door if

they would buy fish!” said the pirate.
“This will let us have entrance.”

Randolph knocked, and the door was
opened by a footman in deep mourning.

“Let me first enter!—Wait without and
follow me in when I give the signal,”
said Randolph in a low tone. “I can
prepare the way for you.”

“Be it so. I confide in your cleverness,
my man. I would enter peaceably, if possible;
for I don't wish to raise an alarm,
else I may not be able to pay my visit to
the Colonel's, to which this is only secondary.
I come here to please my men.
I go there to gratify myself!”

Randolph made no reply. He passed
through the hall, having said to the footman
that he had a message for her from
her son. Before the servant could deliver
the message, Randolph had passed
him and stood in the presence of the woman
who had wronged him. She met
him, and seeing, as she supposed, a fisherman
only, she started back with an exclamation
of disappointment.

“I had hoped it was Arthur!”

“He brings news of him, Madam,” said
the footman.

“What of him! Bring you evil news?
He has been gone since before noon!
What of him?”

“He is well. I saw him at Colonel
Oglethorpe's!”

“Thank God! I feared he had fallen a
victim to that fiend his elder brother!”

“Madam, you say what you do not believe!”
cried Randolph in his own voice,
which rung indignantly.

“Who are you? am I mocked? Help!”

“You know me. I am glad you do. I
am your victim. You know, Madam, that
I never harbored thought of evil against
you. You conspired my ruin. Yours is
at the door! Know that your dwelling is
surrounded by a band of freebooters from
the `Schooner of the Mist,' which is anchored
before it!”

“Robber! was I not right?”

“No, Madam! I am no robber. Accident
gave me knowledge of their inten
tion. I have accompanied them, and am
party to what I could not help, to protect
you from their violence, though God knows
I owe you no love or favor. If you would
be spared captivity betray no knowledge
of me. Nay, no imprecations! you merit
all! Besides, what they take is mine, not
thine! I give my consent freely, so you
are punished for your avarice. Give me
those keys at your girdle!

“Will you suffer me to be slain?”
cried the wretched woman in terror, with
which was mingled hatred against him.

“No. Be passive and I will protect
you. I can delay the event no longer.”

He advanced into the hall and called
to the captain of the schooner to advance.

“The lady is informed, captain, of your
intentions. She will be passive. Here
are the keys which I have obtained from
her. Come with me and I will show you
what they open. This is the side-board.
This a safe where plate is kept. This
unlocks a chest of silver. This gives access
to bags of gold.”

“Bring in only such men as are wanted
to take out the treasures,” said the corsair
to his lieutenant, “and let the rest see
that the servants do not escape to give
the alarm in the town. You know the
premises well, fisherman!”

“Yes, I have lived here in the house!”

“Oh, ah! I see how your knowledge
comes. That is the lady in mourning
who is wringing her hands there?”

“Yes!”

“I wonder where the young men are?”

“I told you they were away!”

“Ah, true! I shouldn't care to have
Mr. Randolph, (that is his name, I believe,)
at home; for I should like to cross blades
with him. I hate every man who once
crosses me in my love!”

Randolph made no reply. He bit his
lip almost through to control his feelings.

“I will leave you now to secure your
booty,” said Randolph: “I must take care
for myself!”

“Be on hand when we are ready to depart.
You are an intelligent and good

fellow, and I can't spare you. We want
you at the Colonel's too.”

“Be sure I shall not fail you there,” answered
Randolph, in a marked tone as he
left the room where the corsair and his men
were at work removing the plate and money
from the place where they were deposited
into sacks.

“That fisherman, Ellis, is a useful fellow.
He seems above his degree in intelligence!”

“At any rate, he seems quite at home
here. He and the old lady are quarreling.”

“I dare say he is asking her for her
finger rings,” said Ellis, laughing.

“Let him have the spoil for his services
then. We are reaping a sufficient harvest
here!”

The second interview between Randolph
and his step-mother, which they
alluded to and overheard, was a mutually
recriminating one. He boldly charged
her with her crimes, and she in return accused
him of bringing upon her the crew
of the schooner. He disdained to reply to
this charge, and turning the key upon her,
as she was accusing him of the murder
of Arthur, he hastened to the room in
which the servants were guarded by four
of the band. He approached one of
them, and in a low voice desired him to
follow him. The man tremblingly obeyed.
When they had got outside of the door,
where they were alone together, Randolph
said to him in his natural tone,—

“Parker, you are the only one of the
household that was ever friendly to me!”

“Is this Mr. Randolph?”

“Hist. Not a word. I am here to do
good, not evil. The captain of this band
knows me only as a fisherman. By accident
I got knowledge of their coming here,
and joined them to prevent more mischief.
You are the coachman, and know the
fleetest horse, and also how to ride fast.
Saddle one, and gallop with all haste to
the point of land below Elizabethtown.
You can reach it in less than two hours.
You will find at anchor there the Revenue
Cutter `Sea Gull,' at least she was there
yesterday. Board her, and tell the captain
that the pirate schooner, the `Cruiser of
the Mist,' is anchored off Amboy, where I
will see that she is delayed until morning.
Tell him to make sail at once, with as
many volunteers as he can get to increase
his crew, and there is a chance that the
schooner may fall into his hands, with
what aid we can give him here. Now
mount and spur!”

The man immediately hurried to the
stables, and in five minutes was on the
road.

Arthur Ledyard had been overtaken in
his ride up the island by a servant despatched
after him by Olive, as soon as she
could sufficiently reflect after Randolph's
abrupt departure from her. Arthur returned
on the wings of fraternal affection
to find his brother gone, and Olive under
strong excitement. She related to him all
that had passed, repeating Randolph's
words. He was surprised and grieved.

“My poor, poor brother!”

“Nay, your mad brother! He is not
worthy a thought. I am deeply angry
with him. He treated me with insult the
most bitter. I can never forgive him!”

“But, Olive, consider what Randolph
has undergone! how—”

“Not a word in his defence. He never
loved me truly. I have been deceived in
supposing I loved him. I will forget him.
This affair has brought out his real character.
How could I have deluded my
heart. He flattered me, and I was proud
of his praise. But I feel that I never have
entertained towards him the tenderness,
dear Arthur, with which you have inspired
me. I thought I only loved you as a sister
loves a fond brother. But your brother has
unwittingly taught me where the needle
of my heart points. You have my heart,
Arthur! Henceforward let the unworthy
and fiery Randolph be forgotten!”

“Nay, my brother loves you, Olive. He
was overwhelmed with his heart's bitterness
when he last saw you. The cloud
upon his spirits cast a shadow over all

things around him. He loves you, and in
his happier hour—”

“I will not listen!” answered the impetuous
girl. “I have cast him from my
heart. You alone, dear Arthur, shall
reign there!”

“Never, dearest Olive, as the usurper
of my brother. I have supplanted him in
his birth-right. I cannot do so in his affections
also!”

“What I give is not his—never was
his. Arthur, do not you also make me
wretched! Shall I sue to you for your
love?”

“No—no! What am I to do! I do
most fondly love you, Olive! but so long
as my brother held a claim upon your
heart's treasures, I was sweetly content
only to worship you afar off. I should
wound the deepest feelings of my nature,
I should falsify my being, if I said I loved
you not. Were my brother freely to surrender
thee—”

“Nay—nay, Arthur! Has he not flung
me aside as an idle plaything? If he
loved me, he would not have doubted me
on so slight a cause. He has no claim
upon my hand or heart! Both are
yours!”

She extended her hand towards him as
she spoke. He caught it, and pressed it
to his lips with passionate fervor. Her
words had revealed to him the fervor and
character of his own regard for her—a
regard that only fraternal affection and
reverence had kept hitherto in its bud.

“Good Arthur!”

“Nay, dear as this moment is to me,
Olive, I would rather that Randolph's name
fell thus from thy lips in place of mine—
that this happiness were his!”

She was about to make a reproachful
reply to this noble sentiment, when the
footsteps of a servant advancing checked
her words.

“Here is the keeper of the light-house,
who would see Mr. Ledyard.”

At the same instant the keeper, who
was close behind the footman, presented
himself at the door of the parlor.

“What would you with me?” asked
Arthur, advancing a step, with thoughts
of news, perhaps, from Randolph.

“Here is a line for you, sir. It was
given me by a young man who saved my
life to-day. I have rowed hard to bring it
here, for I promised him that I would!”

Arthur took the card from him, and
hastily read:

“This is exciting news! Will you
order me a fresh horse from your stables,
Olive?”

“What is the news? What must take
you away?”

He handed her the card.

“Who gave you this?” she quickly
asked the keeper.

“A noble young man, to whom I owe
my life.”

“How?”

“He was in a boat—saw me strugglin
in the water when mine had sunk beneath
me, and saved me!”

“Is he at Sandy Hook?” asked Arthur.

“I left him going to board the schooner!”

“What, the Cruiser?”

“Yes. He would go!”

“It is strange. But I dare say he had
a purpose in it. I will obey his request,
Olive. The capture of this schooner has
been long desired. Shall I have a horse?”

“When will you return?”

“Within six or seven hours.”

“The stable is at your command. I
would my father were at home! He promised
to be here by noon.”

“It is not long past. He is probably
detained at Brunswick.”

“The horse is at the door, sir,” said the
footman.

“Then farewell, Olive. By nine o'clock
I shall be here again.”

“Do not linger.”

“Your love will give me wings!”

With these words the handsome youth
sprung into his saddle, and once more
turned his horse's head towards the north
end of the island. On reaching Richmond,
it occurred to him that the shortest
process would be to cross to the Telegraph
Fort on the east of the island, and have
his news telegraphed to the sloop-of-war.
This he saw would save at least an hour
and a half's time.

On reaching the telegraph station, he
threw himself from his horse and made
known to the director his wish. The intelligence
was rapidly conveyed to the
ship-of-war; and waiting there until,
through the spy-glass, he saw the Franklin
get underweigh, Arthur remounted his
horse and hastened back the road he had
come. It was near sunset when he left
the station, and late when he once more
regained the mansion of Colonel Oglethorpe,
happy that he had so successfully
executed his brother's wish.

The messenger, whom Randolph despatched
from the villa for the Cutter,
reached that vessel about eleven at night,
after having followed her to a place three
miles further up from her former anchorage.
The captain received the intelligence
he brought with an exclamation of
joy. Although his vessel was less than
ninety tons burden, and carried but four
“twelves,” with a crew of less than thirty
men, he resolved to get underweigh without
delay. Several sloops were anchored
near, from which, as soon as the news
was sent on board of them, came in all
forty brave men, burning to take part in
the capture of the vessel that had defied
so long a sloop-of-war and a large gun-brig.
The wind being fair, but light, the
Cutter in less than an hour after the news
reached her, was standing through the
Raritan Strait in the direction of the
enemy.

“You say, sir, that you have no participation
in this robbery of my house?” said
Madam Ledyard, when Randolph once
more entered her presence.

“I do repeat it, madam. You look
troubled about the loss of so much plate
and money. I enjoy your distress. Look
upon these honest pirates as God's messengers,
sent to administer retributive justice
to you. You sinned for gold, and
they take your gold from you! I am
happy, madam!”

“Do you not heed the loss of so much
money that might be your own, but which
now never can be?”

“Not a bit, madam. I never expected
to possess it before these good plunderers
came. I therefore am no loser. You are
the loser, both in soul and silver! Hark!
how the coin rings as they pour it out!
I dare say each sound pierces your heart
like a dagger. I hope it does! You
seem to feel. I am glad of it. I should
lose half my revenge were you indifferent!”

Fiend! would you add taunts to robbery?”

“Nay, I do but enjoy your rage and
grief, no more!”

“You are a pirate! You brought them
here! You will share the gold!”

“No, not a stiver of it! I let them
steal so that they may be caught in the
act, and with the booty in possession. I
am their foe! I am planning their destruction.
And that I may be more certain
their condemnation, I let them rob!
You do not believe me. You will see, tomorrow,
if I speak truth or not!”

“And shall I have all back if they are
taken?” she cried, with avaricious thirst.

“Nay, not a penny or pound's weight.
It was never thine! I shall keep it myself,
methinks!”

“Would you rob your brother Arthur
of his just means?”

“My brother Arthur has robbed me,”

responded Randolph, bitterly, “but I forgive
him!”

“Of what has he robbed you?”

“A golden heart! But no matter!
He has robbed me of a treasure I valued
more than all thine ill-begotten hoards
these men are taking away! I said it
was a golden heart! Nay, it was a diamond!
Nay, adamant! Perhaps, so
pure and cold it was, 'twas only a heart
of ice after all!”

“You talk like a madman!”

“And if I am not a madman, it is not
your fault, madam!”

“He, fisherman! we wait you!”

“I am called, you see! Adieu! No
more covet gold that is so easily taken
from thee! Repent, madam, and get treasures
where thieves will not break through
nor steal! Farewell!”

Thus speaking, Randolph left the room.
He heard a shriek from her, and a heavy
fall, as he went out after the corsair; but
his heart was hardened towards her, and
bidding the liberated servants see to their
mistress, he passed out and quitted the
house.