|Chapter Title||THE BUCCANEER BROTHER.|
|Newspaper Title||The Macleay Chronicle (Kempsey, NSW : 1899 - 1952)|
|Trove Title||The Last of the Pirates; Or Doom Driven. A Romance of the End of Ocean Outlawry|
The Last of fte Pirates; on,
A. Romance of the End of Ocean Outlawry.*
fiv -Un. Prehtiss Ingraham, Author of ' Merle the Mutineer,' &c, &c
CHAPTER VII. THE BUCCANEER BROTHER.
The words of the daring man, who had so boldly kidnapped bim and brought him aboard of his vessel, caused Dr. Barton to utter a cry of ?'? commingled amazement, horror, and bain. - ''
He started rack, holding up nis hands as though to ward off some gum spectre, while he cried : 1 Ifou 1 You my brother 1' ^'yes/ I am your brother, Basil Barton, and ?%' should think I had |j^ven you cause enough to remember ftne,' was the cool reply. rA^.^i^a^JDpypujdare gloat over the ?JiMusej ouiljiveiwei)? and fling it in tny tvteeth? Do you dare di- this, Basil V * '-?'AU unarmed though he was, 'and ^?. *ijhin the power.of his brother, Dp. ii.. barton stepped forward ahalajd. Sis hand heavily upon the other's shoulder, while he looked with blazing eyes into his face. ? Loyd Barton, I brought you here not to quarrel with you, nor did I mean to gloat over my wrongs upon ' you. ' I said that 1 supposed 1 had , given you cause ever to keep me in . remembrance.' 4 Why did you bring me here?' ' To save the lite'of my child.' '.You have a child ?' 'Yes.' 'A pirate's child ?' ' If so you will.' ?Aboyf* . ~' ? 'Yes.' - ??;.??:*; ' . ,* Better let him die than grow up to know what his father is 1! The face' of the buccaneer chief darkened r but, ..checking his - anger, he said with deep emotion : -' * Loyd, I will not quarrel with you, IJorXbrougbt you here, as I said, to ...save my child, who hangs between -???? lire and death. For Heaven's sake save '? Wai;' for 1 know your wondrous skill.' ''''?' ^JUij, j you have kept me then in lemembrance ?' ' Yes, 1 have visited the town, our old homfej-'in disguise, and ? ' !1';* Hold ! ', One moment !' . ? Weli i' ' ' There is a tomb erected in the old burying-ground, and it was put there by night, and mysteriously — at least I, nor others, ever knew of its exist ence, until one day we went there to bury my mother — our poor mother, if so you wili. I saw it then, and it bears on it the inscription : 'To The Memokv of Celeste Barton. ' ' one more unfortunate.' ' ~ ' Did you place that monument there, Basil Barton ?' T did.1 ' I read by it that Celeste is dead.' 1 She lies beneath it.' ' What ! She is buried there ?! ' Yes, I carried her body there by night, ' along with that marble slab, and my men dug her grave and buried - .her there.' ?? ?' . ';Her grave dug by pirates !' 'She was a pirate's wife, so why not ?' . .'Oh, Basil, you, my sinful brother, now call upon me to save your child from death ! You, who came back Jrom . your voyage at sea, and whom I took to visit the beautiful girl whom I hoped to make my wife. When you went to sea we loved each other well, Basil, and you seemed all that was noble. ? ' You came back, grown from boy hood to manhood in the eight years that passed after your going, and your nature seemed greatly changed. ' You won from me the woman I loved ; you urged her'to fly with you, and she did so, fascinated by your handsome face and villain's tongue. . ' I followed you, and, forgetting that you were my brother, sought to take your life. You well-nigh took mine, for you left me wounded, and, as you believed, dying. ' I- returned to my home, and tried to cheer the latter years of our broken hearted parents^— broken-hearted be cause rumour said that you had become a pirate, and that poor Celeste 'was a '. pirate's bride, and you had so nearly been Cain-accursed by killing me. 'Our old father went first, Basil, and a year after our mother died, praying to Heaven to the last to bring you back in honour. 1 Then it was, when we buried her in the oid family burying-ground , seven years ago, that I saw your monument. ' Now you come to me and ask me to save your child— the child of my ' would-be Cain -accursed brother, and the child of the woman who was false to me almost upon her bridal eve. ' Now is the time, Basil Barton, for my revenge, for, pirate though you are, ydti love your child.' ? Dr. Barton bad spoken in a low, earnest tone, and the buccaneer chief had stood before him in an attitude of apparent dread. When Loyd Barton ended with his threatening words, of the time having come for his revenge, the pirate started, his face paled, and he cried : ??? !f;Nb, no, you would not do that, Lby'd'.' j.'Voii1' are not what I am — a man without heart. I have wronged yoii^bitterly wronged you, I admit. :'!'? filled the ears of Celeste with falsehoods about you, and, in despair, rather than for love of me, she fled with me. ? ? She married me, yes, and then she discovered that the vessel I owned was an. outlaw craft, and it broke her. proud nature. ^'She discovered that I was false
*? . ? .-?.-. - . ulai you were true^and one night, in her despair, she sprang into the sea, lor I canted her upon my vessel with me. I rescued her from the .sea, but she never spoke after I got her again in the cabin. ' I buried her on the seaside, and for her own sweet sake, for she was a noble woman, I had that monument carved, and when it was done, carried it along with her remains to our old burying-ground. 'That is the story in its (ruth, Loyd, so you need not bate her dear memory.* , . 'And her child?' hoarsely asked the -doctor.
'She had no child, for this one is ?my child by another wife.' . 'One more unfortunate! I well understand now the words upon poor Celeste's' tomb. You are a «urse to humanity, Basil Barton, and as such I pity you, but as you are such, so rise I higher in the sc?.le of honour and humanity, and 1 will do all in FrTy power to save your- child. Lead me to him.' ^ ' - A cry of joy broke from the lips of the buccaneer, and he said, earnestly : 'Heaven bless you, Loyd, my much wronged burmost noble brother !' ' Such a prayer from your lips, sir, I consider but a mockery 1 Lead me to your child,' was the response.
CHAPTER VIII. Saved ! True to his promise, the noble brother did all in his power to save the child from death. He found bim with a burning fever and raving with delirium. Had Dr. Barton felt that his brother fvas deceiving him, as to its not being tbe child of Celeste, he would have been undeceived after seeing the boy, for not a trace of resemblance was there to the woman whom he had so madly loved, and whom he had never forgotten, for no other had he asked to become his wife, and in bachelor comfort he passed bis days at the old homestead which his father had left him, for Basil had been disowned. Dr. Barton had brought with him his case of medicines, and all that his great skill could do he did to save the life of the suffering child, while the father, whose whole soul seemed wrapped up in the boy, hung over him in breathless suspense, awaiting the verdict, from his brother's lips of hope or desoair.
No. to. — A moment the man stood in silence, hat in hand, and then, with a deep sigh, turned away.
' Basil, 1 have done all in my power ,for your son, and nothing more can be done for hours, so I hope you will not detain me here, while others, equally as ill, depend upon me ?' said Dr. Barton, after he had been an hour at the bedside of the sick child. 'You must remain here until my child is out of danger,' was the decisive reply of tbe pirate. But his words aroused the lion in the nature of Loyd Barton, and he said fiercely : ' Are you worse than a brute, Basil, to detain me here when others demand my services, and I can do nothing for your child until I see the result of my treatment of him ?' ' You roust stay here.' ' If I am compelled to, I will stay ; but I vow to you by high Heaven that you cannot force me to do aught more for your child. He must take his chances, for I will die — ay, you can swing me up to the rigging of your vessel, before I will do more to save him. Now, sir, detain me against my will, if so you intend.' Basil saw that his brother was in deadly earnest. He knew his nature well, and he felt that no threats could intimidate him. So he felt compelled, for his child's sake, to yield ; but he put it upon another reason, and .said : ' Do you suppose that I would be fool enough to release you, that you might go up to town and send a vessel-of-war down here upon me, for there is a ?handsome price upon the head of Basil the Buccaneer.' ' Basil Barton, ycur own evil nature causes you to suspect others. I would not touch blood-money were I ever so poor ; but I am rich, and have no need of gold that I might get by betrayal of you. ' I have no love for you now, only pity, yes, and scorn. But you are my brother ; we both had the same mother and father. We were boys together and happy in the long ago. You went to the bad, and I held on to a career of honour.. And now I V
pledge you that honour and my word that 1 will return to your vessel in five hours, if' yob will permit me to go, Keep me here by the power you have, to do so, and your child may die for ail I will do to save him.' 'You pledge me your honour you will not speak of my vessel being here ??* ? ..'Yes.' . '.?-.. ??;?.- , *And that you .will return within five hours?* ?I^o,1 ?But the driver of the carriage 'which 1 hired ?' \ - : \ I Keep him here if you fear him, and I will drive the team myself back again.* * I will trust you j but if you 'fail me, beware 1' I 1 care not for your threats, Basil. I will do my duty in all things.' ' I believe you,' was the reply. Ten minutes after Dr. Barton was driving back to the town, while the driver of the vehicle was taken on board the pirate schooner to await tbe return of his team, and he was in great alarm; for he had dis covered that the craft was a bucca neer, though little he dreamed that its commander was the brother of the famous physician. of the town,
wnom aa respected so nigniy. The wind had died away with the rising of the moon, and Dr. Barton sent his horses at a rapid pace along the country road. 'As he drew near the town he suddenly turned off from the high way, and in a few moments drew rein at the side of a small enclosure, encircled by a white picket-fence. Within were visible several tombs, the white marble glimmer ing in the moonlight. Before one of these he stood with uncovered head, and low-spoken words fell from his lips. ' Poor Celeste ! Here, above your grave, I implore forgivenness for my cruel thoughts of you. You fled from me, but I know now that you were not false-hearted, and that he who caused me so much misery broke your own loving heart. No longer, Celeste, will I remember you with bitterness — and may Heaven guard you !' A moment the man stood in silence, hat in hand, and then, with a deep sigh, turned away — [See Picture 10] — leaped over the low fence, and, springing into the vehicle once more, half an hour stood at the bedside of a patient who was hovering between life and death. ' ' A marked change for the better,' he said to the one who had followed him to the door. Then to another bedside of the sick he drove, and his face clouded as'he saw that all hope was gone. ' I could not have saved her had I been here,* he muttered ; and then he left the dying one to the care of her mourning kindred. Stopping at his own house, he
procured some medicines he wished to use with the little boy lying in tbe cabin of a pirate craft, and then the heads of the tired horses were turned back to the sea-shore. The dawn .was breaking as he drew rein upon the desolate shore ; but a boat awaited 'him, and when he had cared for the horses — for he had brought grain from home for them — he once more went on board of the vessel of his buccaneer brother. 'I dare not say Heaven bless you, Loyd, after your words to me that my prayers were lilys a mockery; but there is a change for the better in my darling child ;' and the doctor saw tears of joy in the eyes of the pirate as he spoke. ' I hoped for the best, Basil, and the medicine has done its work well. Yes,' he added, as he laid his hand upon the little fluttering pulse ; ' the fever is not near so high, his skin is moist, and if no unfavorable change comes within the next two hours your boy will live.' ' Thank Heaven ! But you, Loyd, are haggard and worn out. I will watch by the boy, while you get a few hours' sleep before breakfast.' ' Sleep on board this craft .' Why, did I close my eyes, such phantoms of the butchered and tortured would rise before me that I would go mad !' and the doctor shuddered as he uttered the words. 1 As you please, doctor,' was the cold reply. ' No more, I dare not go to sleep here; but I will remain for several hours, and I will watch by the side of your boy while I am here. If the fever is broken you will need me no longer, for your good nursing will soon bring him round ; and for the love you bear him, Basil, I implore you let him not follow in your, foot steps, for better would it be that he should die now in his innocence, than become a sea outlaw.' * He shall never know what his father was. He shall lead a Hfe of honour, Loyd, I pledge you.' ' Heaven grant it 1' and Dr. Barton went back to the bedside of the little boy. Thus several hours passed, and .the buccaneer came to stffnmon him to breakfast. 1 No, Basil, I will return home to breakfast, I could not touch food on board your vessel. Your boy will live, for his fever is broken, and he needs only good nursing. Good-bye, Basil, and pray Heaven we never meet again I' The buccaneer uttered no words in reply, but escorted his brother to the ship's side, called for the driver to be sent for, and bowed in silence as the boat pulled ashore. When the boat returned he gave orders to get up anchor and set sail, and it was when the fleet schooner shot out from fhe shelter of the land that she came in sight of the American cruiser Nemesis, and started off in flight, showing no flag, firing no gun in response to the shots of the American vessel-of-war in chase. (To be Continued.)