University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.

With a light, but fair wind, the Sea Slipper stood on her way up
the river, with the helm under the management of Red Fred; who
was the only one on board now, that Morris Græme was no longer
able to be on deck, familiar with the winding and narrow channel
of the Kennebec. Carleton paced the deck with an uneasy step
and troubled air. The injuries of Morris Greame had deprived
him of his services, when most in requisition. He felt he could
trust no other person as second in command of the schooner.
Head-land after head-land was passed by the schooner, and a half
an hour had elapsed since they left the rock, when he became impatient.

“How is this, Fred,” he demanded; “Græme said the town was
not two leagues up, and we have come full that.”

“Soon as we clear the wooded point ahead, sir, we shall come
in sight of it. I have been up this river many a time in a Kennebec
sloop, when I was a boy before the mast. There, sir, now it
opens; see the white houses and churches, how they are filed up
with the moon a glistening on 'em.”

“And this powder-house' where does it stand!”

“Here-away, sir. If you will take a look just under the after
leading block but one, between it and the rattling, you will fetch it
in range! answered Fred revolving his wheel half a turn.

“Yes—I see it crowning a ledge, apart from the town. How
can we reach it undiscovered?”

“I know the path to it, sir; and we shall not be disturbed at
this hour. I will run the schooner in along side an old deserted
pier, you see just off the larboard bow, and we can ship the powder
from that on board.”

The Sea-Slipper was then run along close to the shore, until
she neared the broken pier, which was a wharf situated half a
mile below the town, and quite remote from observation. The sail
was gradually lessened on her, and in a few minutes she came to
the pier, and was secured by a hawser run ashore. The town,
with its harbor and vessels, was visible above; but all was still,
save the distant striking of a clock, which warned them that day
was not far off. Taking half his men, and proper barrows and
slings to convey the powder, Carleton left the schooner and guided
by Red Fred, pursued a rocky, wooded path leading to the ledge.
A few minutes brisk travel brought them to the bleak upland rock,
on which the solitary structure stood, far from any dwelling. It
was small, but securely constructed of brick and stone, with a
slated roof. The door, though massive, was soon forced open, and
Carleton entering found hilled up on one side thirty large sized
kegs filled with powder. In three trips to the schooner a score of
these small barrels were removed on board, and safely stowed in
the magazine. Morning by this time began to dawn, and casting
off the hawser from the pier, these bold buccaneers were once
more on the water.

“Now am I a man again;” said Carleton emphatically, as he
looked back upon the receding town, and then watched the swift
progress of the schooner sea-ward. “Now,” and his voice fell in
its tones, but deepened with feeling “now shall Blanche Hillary
be mine!”

With these daring thoughts in his heart, he paced his schooner's
deck, until the wide sea once more opened its heaving bosom before
him to receive the bounding vessel. “Yes, there the sea
spreads her wide arms to welcome her son again! Blow fresh ye
good winds, blow fresh and fair, and hurry me to her embrace.”

“Well, Eve, how fares it with poor Morris? I will go down
and see him as soon as we clear this coast. There frowns, with
the dawn lightening its summit, the fortress to the right, where we
buried the mad father and his daughter. I shall ne'er forget that
scene, nor thy voice of prayer. Nay—no preaching now pretty
one. Thou hast not told me how my Licutenant fares.”

“He has not yet come out of his state of insensibility. With
the rising sun he will revive.”

“I hope so. I would not lose Morris now. We have work for
both before us. Is the boy with him?”

“Yes, nor has he left him! What purpose or plan is in your
heart, Edward. I hope no evil, that you should wish Morris
Græme's aid.”

“Listen, Eve,” he said walking slowly and thoughtfully with
her towards the stern, his brows meeting as they did when he was
deeply moved. “I am about to tell thee what may not please thee
well, because there is in it other love than thine. Nay—do not
start! I have already told thee, I knew not how to return thy love.”

Eve gasped but spoke not, and painfully listened.

“But to my story, as thou hast just wished to know my present
purpose. A year ago, and but a few weeks before our mai—
before I returned to Charleston, I was commander of such a vessel
as this in the West Indies, with a wild and savage crew of Spaniards
and mulatoes; but men abjectly under my authority. My
schooner was called the Sea-Slipper, as I have named this. I
fell in with a packet ship bound from Boston to New Orleans, and
boarded her without resistance. Among the passengers was a
lovely and youthful Spanish widow, whom I resolved to take with
me on board the schooner. Do not shrink, Eve! Had I loved thee
I should not have so resolved. Her father was also a passenger;
and learning that he was immensely opulent, and having been
disappointed in finding specie on board, my cupidity got the better of
my passion, and I ransomed her to him for a very large sum. He
wrote me an order for the amount on his banker in Havana, and
I left the packet-ship to pursue her course, to New Orleans, while
I stood in for the Havana, which was but a few hours sail. Before
I reached the port, I fell in with a heavily armed British
cruiser, that had been long out in search of me; and being hotly
pursued I run my schooner ashore and took to the boats. But the
pretty Sea-Slipper was taken posession of and burned before my
eyes. But, thank the Gods, I have another, the fellow to her, beneath
my feet. Without a vessel, I dispersed my men for two
months, and alone and in disguise, proceeded over land to Havanna.
The amount of the draft would have purchased me another
vessel. Fashionably attired as a stranger I sallied out from my
retreat, in a house near the Posco to present my draft. After a
long unsuccessful search to find the house upon which it was
drawn, I was satisfied that the names were fictitious, and that no
such Banking House was known in Havana. You may judge
my fierce disappointment and threats of vengeance upon the old
Spaniard; for I had built up all my hopes of getting another vessel
upon this money. The same day a letter reached me, informing
me of the death of my father. I instantly embarked for
Charleston. The remainder of my history you know, Eve. But
I have more to add respecting this accursed Spaniard. I have had
intelligence that he resided in a magnificent mansion, a league
outside the walls of Havana. My first purpose is, now that I am
once more in command of a vessel, to pay this wily cavalier and
his beautiful daughter a visit. I made oath to do it whenever I
should tread the deck of another vessel its master. After this expedition
I have another one, Eve, will please thee less than this—
but thy looks tell me thou hast heard enough.”

“I have!” she answered in a deep suffering tone.

“You are offended with me, Eve, touching my fancy for the
fair Castilian! But, then, thou wert not my —”

“Speak the word! Say wife, Carleton, and I forgive all!”

“Thou wert not then my wife, Eve!” he said with a smile.

“Yet thou hast just now said thou art again seeking her! I
know not, Edward, how it is, but I know I do hate this fair Spaniard.
I am a miser, and thy love my treasure, which I watch with
such jealous care that I would not other eyes should look upon
it!”

“Eve, thou wilt yet be convinced thy treasure is but dust.”

“Heaven put far away that hapless hour!” she said with emotion.
“I do begin to realize something of what thou wouldst
have me believe!” she added with touching resignation: “I know
I have been blinded by my love! I will confess—though my
heart is breaking as I speak—that thou lovest me not as thou hast
done! Something has changed thee, Edward!”

“I will tell thee what it is — nay I dare not now! See
how we are suddenly lifted upon the billows and feel again the
familiar rocking of the ocean! Once more we are upon the sea!
Go down, Eve, and as soon as the sun is up I will follow thee.”—
This was spoken so coldly and indifferently, that, after fixing upon
him her gentle gaze to see if she could catch a glance of affection
from his eyes, she hastened to hide her tears and her grief
in her state-room. Poor Eve! the truth is slowly foreing itself
upon thy conviction that thou art not loved!

In the main cabin lay the form of Morris Græme upon a pallet.
His face was deadly pale, and a scar was upon his temple, from
which the fresh blood oozed, but was constantly wiped away by
the hand of the lad, “Little Belt,” who had knelt for hours by his
side, watching every breath and sign of returning consciousness.
He seemed to be sleeping heavily, with strong, irregular breathing,
and occasional convulsive movements of the lips and fingers.
The lad bathed his forehead and kept his mouth moistened, and at
times rubbed the palms of his hands. At intervals a deep sigh
would escape his bosom; and when he saw that he was unobserved
he would lean over the marble face, and imprint upon the lips
a kiss of passionate grief. The cabin lamp shown down upon his
features, fur his tarpaulin was laid aside. His head was covered
with rich masses of raven hair, as if the scissors had never come
nigh them, and his complexion was a clear brunette. Dark and
singularly expressive were his eyes, and seldom has a more beautiful
mouth been seen in a woman, than his. Its expression was
firm and determined, and the eye full of passion and feeling.

At length the fading gleam of the lamp was out-shone by the
morning which gradually filled the cabin with light and, as if there
had been some mysterious union between sensibility and light, a
favorable change in the face of the wounded man was visible. The
deadly, marble aspect softened and assumed a faint one of life, and
the strong heaving of the chest became subdued and more regular.
These signs of returning animation were watched with the
most intense anxiety and solicitude by the lad; and, when at
length as a bright beam of the rising sun flushed upon the skylight
and was reflected throughout the cabin, he stirred and opened
his eyes, the lad uttered an exclamation of joy so deep and fervent,
that it was plain there existed between them some mysterious
bond of union, perhaps however, the interest was all on one
side. This idea was strengthened by the glance which Morris
Græme turned towards him; it was one of doubtful recognition
and wholly without the emotion that might have been anticipated
from the conduct of the other. The exclamation of the lad drew
Carleton to the cabin, where on entering, to his joyful surprise, he
met the intelligent look of his Lieutenant fixed on him.

“The Gods be praised, Morris,” he said taking his hand. “I
thought you were visèed for the land under-sea. I am rejoiced to
see you have come to! You were lucky not to have been killed,
and you have come off without breaking but two bones, which I
have set. It will keep you on your back, perhaps, till we get to
the West Indies, whither the Sea-Slipper is now steering.”

In a little while Morris was able to recal the past and to listen
to the recital of his rescue; and also to hear of Carleton's plans
for the future. He made no remark when informed of the death
and burial of the father and daughter, and by the expression of his
features evidently wished no further allusion to the subject.

Days passed on, and with the alternation of fair winds, calms
and storms, the Sea-Slipper held on her course to the West Indies,
where were to be found material in plenty from which Carleton
intended to complete his crew. Morris's injuries rendered it nescessary
for him to remain almost constantly on deck, although
Red Fred in a measure relieved him from duty in the larboard
watch They had been at sea three weeks, and yet Morris remained
an invalid in the cabin, occasionally being taken on deck for
the air. The lad “Little Belt,” so called by the men, on account
of his small waist, was constant and assiduous in his attention upon
him. Eve also was left much with him; and he received all her
attention with a grateful look and tenderness of voice, that showed
how strongly passion for the beautiful creature was working in his
bosom. He sat up or reclined most of the day upon an ottoman,
and she read to him as they played chess or backgammon together.
This sitting for hours eye to eye, with hand in contact with
hand, is a dangerous position for an enamoured man. Morris
Græme drank in love with his eyes until his brain and heart were
both intoxicated. This convalescence was to him a passage in
the hours of paradise. She could not be insensible to the impression
her presence made upon him. He betrayed it in every look,
and in all his manner. He took no pains to conceal his feelings
from her. Carleton was not only much on deck, but had grown
more and more cold from day to day. Blanche Hillary was taking
Eve's place in his thoughts, and he only thought of her to devise
some means of getting rid of her in quiet. He had of late discovered
Græme's passion for her, and in his heart rejoiced, hoping that
she might be enticed and fall! He therefore purposely left them
together and encouraged their intimacy. Poor Eve! what a snare
was laid for thee, thou true and good; though weak and erring in
thy love for such an one as Carleton.

“It was night. Carleton's firm even tread was heard pacing
the deck over their heads. The wild winds lashed the sea and
the vessel was driven along the darkly glittering billows like a
flying bird. The sky light was closed and covered and the cabin
lamp shed a soft dim light around. Morris, now nearly restored,
but yet unfit for duty, for which he did not care to change Eve's
companionship, was reading from a book in a deep tone of feeling
to Eve. And did she sit and listen as if her interest was not awaked
in him, who concealed not his deep passion for her?” Eve's
was a gentle, social and confiding nature. Carleton was strange
ly cold and stern and negligent. He spoke to her but with a frown.
Morris was kind, tender and solicitous to please; his voice
attuned to gentle words and his acts

efiort was to please and win: Carleton's to offend and cast aside!
Not to have felt the difference between their conduct, and insensibly
to love the society of Græme, would have been surprising
in one whose life consisted in loving and being loved! Was she
then growing false to Carleton ere she knew he was false to her?
Let the result tell. She liked his society for it was a relief from
the coldness and neglect of Carleton.

Morris was reading from the First Act of Richard III:

Morris Græme, [seizing Eve's hand and kneeling.]—“Sweet
Eve, let me put this question of Lady Anne's into thy mouth,
and myself answer it in place of Gloster. This is the favor I
would ask of thee. I beseech you, listen patiently and give me
one ray of hope. Since the first hour I saw thee I have loved and
in my heart worshipped thee! Nay, do not struggle to release
your hand. Have pity on me, for without thy love I am, indeed
most wretched. Carleton loves thee not. Each look and act or
his shows that thou art hateful to him. Nay, more! He loves
another!”

“Dost thou speak truly, and from thine own knowledge, Morris
Græme?” she demanded in a tone that made him start.

“I do, sweet Eve! The lady is very fair; but in grace and
beauty hath no compare with thee!”

“I heed not thy compliments,” cried Eve with emotion. “Tell
me her name?”

“Blanche Hillary.”

“Has he met her often?”

“No—but his passion for her is as deep as the springs of his
own life!”

“I knew it—I—I—Morris Græme, swear to me that thou
tellest me truly; for this thing must be confirmed by an oath, ere
my heart receive it all!”

“I swear it,” he said, now feeling confident that, convinced of
Carleton's unfaithfulness, she would throw herself into his arms.
She stood for a moment lost and absent in thought. He took her
hand and would have passed his arm about her waist. The act
recalled her to herself. She shrunk from him with a look of womanly
dignity, as became a true wife, and said,

“Thou dost mistake me, Morris Græme! Carleton may not
love me, but to me he is still dear!”

“Nay, 'tis madness, Eve, to love when thou art scorned! To
reject the true heart I offer thee, for the cold neglect of one who
spurns thy love! If thou wilt be mine, I will in Havana surround
thee with every luxury —”

“Talk not to me, Morris Græme,” she said commandingly,
pacing to and fro the cabin. “I am not thinking of thee or thy
hopeless passion!”

“Hopeless! Eve?” he said, attempting to take her hand.

“Ever! I am not whom you think me! Oh, God! that he
should subject me to the degrading addresses of this man! Nay
of every man! Oh, Carleton! Carleton! Thou hast drugged
my cup with a bitter, bitter draught!”

“Eve!”

“Stand by, sir, and disturb me not! If I have, following charity
and kindness, in nursing by thee overstepped my modesty, and
so given thee excuse for this license, then am I grieved, and severely
judge myself therefor. Morris Græme, I cannot listen to
you!”

“Cruel Eve!”

“Sir, hast thou not heard me?” He recoiled a pace at the stern
and virtuous dignity with which her voice, look, and manner were
clothed by her indignant emotion, and in silence gazed upon her.

He knew she had loved Carleton, but he was not prepared for
such an exhibition of faithfulness, when he no longer cared for
her. His passion was only increased by her lofty conduct, and in
his heart he resolved to win her, even with the life of Carleton.—
Eve now retired to her state room in a painful conflict of feelings,
and Morris reclining, as if still very weak, upon the ottoman, mused
upon what had occurred. He was not alone, however; nor had
the scene just drawn been without a witness. In the shadow of
the stairs or companion-way stood a figure half revealed, watching
the progress of Græme's passion with eager interest. It was the
lad, Little Belt. His dark eyes gleamed like coals of fire, and his
brows were knitted together as he listened to his declaration of
love. He more than once thrust himself so far forward, in his
eagerness, that persons less engaged than Eve and Morris Græme
would have discovered his presence. Once, when Græme would
have clasped her waist, his hand was upon a knife in his belt, and
he half drew it forth, and looked, for a moment, as if about to
spring upon him and bury it in his heart.

While musing upon the past scene, and deliberating upon a half
conceived plan of taking the schooner from Carleton and forcing
Eve to his love, he felt a hand laid nervously upon his arm. He
turned and beheld the lad by his side.

“What would you, boy?”

“Revenge!” came from the pale lips of the lad in a low deep
startling tone.

“Who?—what art thou?” cried Græme, starting up and gazing
in his face.

“One whom thou hast sworn to love and to love only: and who,
trusting to thee, has found thee false. I am she whom when thou
wert weary of me thou didst force to wed another. I have waited
my hour of revenge, and it has come! Thy hour of retribution
had not come when thy mangled corse shouldst have found a grave
in the sea; and I knew thou wouldst not die then—for thou diest
only by my hand! I have loved thee, Morris Græme—I have degraded
myself for love of thee. Knowing I could never be thy
bride, I gave thee my virgin heart, and was happy in being thy
mistress! But thou didst soon tire of a treasure too easily
won! I have loved and hated thee by turns since thou didst force
me to marry thy knave, Frederick. I have thrice since had thy
life in my hands, and yet love turned aside my hand! I have
wept over thee in thy illness here when thou knewest it not, and
loved thee without rebuke. Yet I was tempted each day to poison
thy food, but still love let thee live. But I only hate now! I have
witnessed thy passion for Carleton's wife—”

“His wife!” exclaimed Morris, who had been listening and gazing
upon her like one in a dream.

“Yes—his wife. I have overheard that which assures me of it,
though he does not acknowledge her. But with this thou hast no
further interest. I hate thee, Morris Græme. Look at me!” and
she removed a wig of massy tresses and exposed the undisguised
features of Hetty Bell. “Look at me and see the beauty that has
now brought thee to thy death! Now die!”

“Hetty—for God's sake! you are not—”

His words were lost in the ineffectual struggle in his grear
weakness, to rise from the ottoman and release the pressure of her
hand upon his throat.

“I have sworn thy death, Morris Græme, and I have the
strength and power of hell in my heart and hand! In vain thy
efforts! Die!”

The knife, as she muttered the word, descended into his
bosom. The guilty young man fell back with a groan; and having
faintly murmured the name of that God whose laws he had
for years broken and despised, his unannealed soul took its flight to
His bar of judgment.

A shriek from Eve, who had overheard the scene through the
blinds of the state room, brought Carleton below. On entering
the cabin he beheld the murderess bending over the body of her victim
and passionately pressing her lips to his! He did not know
that Morris was dead, and stood with a look of inquiry, gazing
round.

“She has killed him?” cried Eve, pointing to the corpse.

“She! Morris dead!”

“Yes, and by my hand,' answered Hetty Bell, turning towards
him, and speaking in a tone strange and full of sadness. “I have
slain him because I loved him! Now he is dead, I care not for
life, and I follow him to a world where love hath no rivalry, and
where 'tis not crime to love if the hearts are wedded!”

Before the astonished Carleton could arrest her hand or comprehend
her purpose, she drew the knife from Morris's breast and
plunged it into her own! She threw herself upon the body of him
whom she had too well and criminally loved, and with her head
resting upon his bosom, there breathed her last.