The Last of the Pirates; OR, DOOM DRIVEN.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 2279, 22 September 1899, Page 4

The Last of the Pirates; OR, DOOM DRIVEN.

A Romance of the End ot Ocean Outlawry.*

By Col Prentiss Ingraham, Author of " Merle the Mutineer," &c , &c.

CHAPTER VII. THE BUCCANEER BROTHER. The words ol the daring man, who had so boldly kidnapped him and brought him aboard of his vessel, caused Dr. B.irton to uUer a cry of commingled amazement, horror, and pain. He started back, holding up his hands as though to ward off some gum -pectre, while he cried : I y ou ! You my brother!' • Yes, 1 am your brother, Basil Barton, and I should think I had g ven you cause enuugh to remember iru,' was the cool reply. ' Ha ! D i you dare gloat over the cause you have given, and thug it in my teetii ? Dj you dare do this, Basil ?' Ad unarmed though he was, and within the power ot his brother, Dr. Barton stepped forward and laid his hand heavily upon the other's shoulder, while he looked with blazing eyes into his tace. ' Loyd Bat ton, 1 brought you here not to quarrel with you, nor did I mean to ghat over my wrongs upon you. I said that I supposed 1 had given you cause evei to keep me in remembrance.' ' Why did you bring me here ?' •To save the lite of my child.' 'You have a child ?' ' Yes." A pirate's child ?' • It so you will.' ' A boy ?' • Yes.' ' Better let him die than grow up to know what his father is !' The face ot the buccaneer chief darkened ; but, checking his anger, he said with deep emotion : ' Loyd, I will not quarrel with you, for I brought you here, as I said, to save my child. who hangs between lie and death. For Heaven's sake save him, for I know your wondrous skill.' Ah, you have- kept me then in remembrance ?' 'Yes, I have visited the town, our aid home, in disguise, and ' • Hold ! One moment " ' Weil ?' ' 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 ot its existence, until one day we went there to bury my mother—our poor mother, if so you will. I saw it then, and it bears on it the inscription : ''To The Memosv of Celeste Barton. ''one more unfortunate.'' ' Did you place that monument there, Basil Barton ?' T did.' ' I read by it that Celeste is dead.' ' She lies beneath it.' 'What! She is buried there ?! ' Yes, I carried her body there bynight, 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?' 'On, Basil, you, my sinful brother, now call up >n me to save your chiid from death! You, who came back irom your voyage at sea. and whom I took to visit the beautiful »iri whom I hoped to make my wit-j. When you went to sea we loved each other well, Basil, and you seemed all that was noble. 'You came back, grown from boyhood to manhood in the eight years .that passed after your uomg, 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 I fo'lowed you, and, forgetting that you were mv brother, sought to take your life. You Weil-i.igh 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 brokenhearted parents—brokenhearted because rumour said that yi u had b-.come a pirate, and that poor Celeste was a pirate's bride, and you had so neatly been Cain-accursed by ki.iing me. 'Our old father went fir.-t, Basil, and a year after our mother died, praying to Heaven to the last to bring you back in honour. 'Then it was, when we buried her in the old family buryintt-ground.seren years that I saw your monument. ' Now you come to me and a-k me to save y tir ihdd-ihe cl lid of my would-be Ciin«accursed brother, and the child ot the woman who was false to me aim.-st upon her bridal eve. 'Now is the time. B.iml Bartt n, lot my rr.fiize, tor. pirate ti. ujh \ >u ate. you love your chiid.' Dr. Barton had sp< ken in a io\v, earnest tore, and the bu< i .meet i he! had stood before him in an a:t;'.ud< of apparent dread. When Loyd B.irt-n en-led wi h his threatening wouL. ot '.'< e t me having Come lor r i> revet _e, t' e j ir.it" started, his fjre puad, itvl he iried: ' N' i, no, \i,u W.U ii i.. t do th.it, Loyd. Y hi .ir ni.t wii.it I am— a man without f e.ut. I have wronged you—nitteiiy wn ngeJ yi u, I adn it 1 I filled the ears ol (it !< <U- with falsehoi (L about you, and, in dtspau, rather than lor love ol me, she fled with me. 'She married me, yes, and then she discoveied that the vessel I owned was an outlaw craft, and it broke hei proud nature. 'She discovered that I was false

tMat you weie Hue, and one night, in her despair, she sprang into' the sea, lor 1 carrieil her upon my vessel with me. I rescued her from the sea, but she never spoke after 1 got her again in the cabin.

' I buned 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 butying-giound.

'That is the story in its truth, Loyd, so you need not hate fur 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 curse to humanity, Basil Barton, and as such I pity you, but as you are such, so rise 1 higher in the sc?le of honour and humanity, and I will do all in my 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 muchwronged but most noble biother !' ' Such a prayer from your lips, sir, I consider but a mockery ! 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 trom death. He found him with a burning fever and raving with delirium. Had Dr. Bat ton felt that his brother was deceiving him, as to its not being the 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 madiy loved, and whom he had never forgotten, for no other had he asked to become his wife, and in bachelor comfort he passed his 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 skiil could do he did to save the li»e 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 despair.

' Basil, I have done all in my power for your son, and nothing more can be done tor 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 the pirate. But his words aroused the lion in the nature of Loyd Barton, and he said fiercely : 1 Are you worse than a brute, B.isil, to de:ain me here when others demand my services, and I can do nothing for \our child until I see the result of my treatment of him ?' • You must stay here.' ' It I am compelled to, I will stay ; but I vow to you by hiuh Heaven that you cannot force me to do auuht more for your child. He must take his chances, tor 1 will die—ay, you can swiii:! me up to the rising of your vessel, before I wiil do more to save him. Now, sir, detain me against my will, if si 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, fot his child's sake, to yield; but he put it upon another reason, and said : ' D ■ you suppose that I would be s-il etio'.uh to release you, that you nusjit go up to town and send a of-war down here upon me, for ttere is a handsome price up m the head i if B isil the Buccaneer.' ' Basil Barton, y ur own evil nature causes you t' i suspc< t o:|.< rs. I would nt touch blood nioi e\ were 1 ever so pO'T ; but I am rich, and have no need of gold that I might get by betrayal of you. 1 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 bovs together ai.d happy in the lonu ago. You went to the bad, and I held on to a career of honour. And now 1

pledge you that honour and my word that 1 will return to your vessel in five hours, if you will permit me to go. Keep me here by the powei you have to do so, and your chiid may die foi all 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 do.' ' But the driver of the carriage which 1 hired ?' ' Keep him here if you fear him, and I will drive the team myself back again.' ' I will trust you ; but if you fail me, beware!' ' I care not for your threats, Basil. I will do my duty in all things.' 1 1 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 the return of his team, and he was in great alarm, for lie had discovered that the craft was a buccaneer, though little he dreamed that its commander was the brother of the famous physician of the town, whom all respected so highly. 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 highway, 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 glimmering in the moonlight. Before one of these he stood witli

uncovered head, and low-spoken words fell from his lips. 1 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 I' A moment the man stood in silence, hat in hand, and then, with a deep sigh, turned away— [Sec 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 the cabin ot 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 like 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 workwell. Yes,' lie 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 woidd rise before me that I would go mad!' and the doctor shuddered as he uttered the words. 'As you please, doctor,' was the cold reply. ' No more, 1 dare not go to sleep here; but I will remain for several hours, and I will watch by the side of your boy while lam 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 footsteps, 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 life of honour, I.oyd, 1 pledge you.' 'Heaven grant it!' and Dr. Barton went back to the bedside of the little boy. Thus several hours passed, ami the buccaneer came to summon him to bieakfast. ' No. Basil. I wili return home to breakfast. I could not touch food on L>'>ard your vessel. Your boy will live, for his fever is broken, and he needs only good nursing, Cood bye, basil, and pray Heaven we never meet again !' Tin: buccaneer uttered no words in reply, but escorted Ins brother to tin ship's side, called for the driver t" 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 ..lit from the shelter of the '.and that sin' came in of tiie American cruiser Nemesis, and stalled "11 in (light, showing no lla.-, tiring no -jiin m response to the sir ts i t the Auieiican vcssel-of-uar in chase % lo if I"' Kf.nuid.)