THE CAPTAIN'S SACRIFICE.— AN AMERICAN STORY.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 3256, 13 September 1878, Page 3

THE CAPTAIN'S SACRIFICE.— AN AMERICAN STORY.

(Harper's Monthly.) There are heroic souls whe snatch their hard living from the perilous toils of our northern lakes. Rough and rude., perhaps, but not the leen are they heroes. George Manly was such a man. JEfe had begun life as the son of a late skipper, working his way by manly independence and straightforward honesty, until, at twenty-seven, he was master of his own schooner, and had placed hut old mother above want. His father died a year before he vim ranked among the owners of lake craft, blessing the son who had smoothed his way into the dark valley. Labouring for the Bake of his parents, the young sailor had but little time to give to other matters, or to think of bis own pleasure. He had his dreams (what

young man has not) of a home of hia own, and a loving woman to fill and make it bright. But heC.haa closed; his,eye3itb the thought until, at twenty-six, men called him a cynic because he avoided women. He was no cynic when the cry of i the needy was heard — no cynic when those in distress called on him for aid. ;

He was hurrying honie one night through the darkened streets of the city, having just entered port from Chicago with a cargo of grain. It was a bitter night, and the cold rain drove in his face and chilled him to the bone. He wrapped his waterproof coat about him, and laughed at the storm. Suddenly he heard a cry, and, turning, saw a woman sink fainting to the pavement. It was an old woman, in the dress of the poorer class, carry- - ing a bundle. He lifted her and carried her into a drug store, where she was revived, while he stood by waiting until she could speak. 11 Where do you live ?" he asked kindly. " I was going to 150 Mount street, 5 ' she gasped, to Captain Manly' s question; "let me go, good people. The captain is sick, and needs me." " You cannot walk." " I will," replied the stout old creature ; " he needs me, and I was his nurse." : ' "I'll get a cab and take her up," said Manly ;" make her wait." , So they retained her while he hurried out to get a cab, and when it came they drove through the night and siorm to 150," Mount street, and Manly ran up the steps, half carrying the old lady, who was still weak. His ring at the bell was answered, not by a servant, but by a young lady, who held a lamp aloft to see who were at the door. As shestood there, with a flood of yellow light falling about her, the young man thoughts he had never seen anything so beautiful, and, like Prince Geraint, when he saw Enid at her father's ruined home, he felt that this was "the one maid for him." Seeing the startled look on her face, he hastened to explain— "You must not be frightened, miss," he said ; " this old lady was taken ill in the street, and I happened to be near, so I brought her here, as she said she must come to 150 Mount street." " You are very kind," replied the girl, in her Bweet low voice ; "my father was unwell, and sent for his old mirte, but lie did not think she would come out upon such a night as this. Are you better now aunty ?" "She calls me aunty, the darlin'," said the old lady, " though I'm no more kin to her than you, blessin's on your own handsome face lilt's few young men would take the troubiS for an old dame like me." " The gentleman must be very wet," said the girl ; " shall I now show you a room where you can have a fire ? It will be a pleasure to me." " Thank you, miss," said tho young man, bashfully, turning his wet cap in his hands ; " but I've an old mother at home that will be anxious about me, as I'm a sailor, and she knows I have passed the Wolland, and will expect me." "But you must leave your name, sir. My father is a sailor, too, and will want to thank you." > "No need of that, Miss. I only did as anyone with the heart of a man would have done. But he knows me well enough, Captain George Manly, of the schooner Flying Arrow." "Indeed !" she said, with a bright smile ; " I have heard him speak of you often, and after what I have seen to-night I can well believe all this praise of you." Poor George blushed to the very roots of his hair, and plunged into the cab) ordering the driver in sailor fashion to "heave ahead," and was driven rapidly home. Next day, while he was on the schooner, a boy came down with a note from Captain Archer, asking him to come up, and he was only too glad to avail himself of the invitation, though he would not acknowledge that he wished to get another glimpse of Myra Archer's beautiful face. He went in the evening, and Captain Archer, somewhat recovered from his indisposition, received him with the bluff welcome which only sailors can give, and made him feel at home at once. Then Myra came in, radiant in .beauty, and played melodies, mournful and gay, with a feeling and expression which the young sailor never dreamed of. He sat in a perfect maze, watching her white fingers threading in and out among the keys of the pianoforte, and evoking sweet inti9ic from the depths of the old instrument. He would have sat there for hours watching her and listening to the music, but Captain Archer would not have it. He liked to talk.

11 Stop clawing that piano, Myra," ho said, laughing ; " what do you mean ? When my young friend Manly comes to see me, do you think I don't want to hear him talk? Tliere get a chair on this side of the fire. I'm glad you got in just as you did last night, George, for, late in the fall as it is, the coast is dangerous. Did you hear of any wrecks ?"

" Ay, indeed ; the upper lake coast is lined with them. Thunder Bay is full of them, and I saw a barque ashore off Nine-mile-point, but her crew had left her. The Bermuda was in Port Dalhousie, when I left, with a broken foremast. She will be down to-morrow, I reckon."

" It is a terrible life you live," Baid Mvra softly. She was sitting on a low stool, with her head upon her father's knee. " I used to fall asleep at nights, and when the wind rose, I would be awake in a moment, thinking of dear papa."

" She's tender-hearted, is my little girl," said the captain, laying a caressing hand upon her head— •" mighty tender-hearted to be sure. I'm going to tell you a story about a man that sails these lakes ; not an old man, yet in experience he is as old as the gayest among us. He used to sail a little sloop out of this port, and went a matter of forty miles up the coast for any load he could get. It wasn't much of a boat, you understand. He had two men besides himself, and one of them was in the cabin sick with the ague." " Captain 1" said George, faintly. " Well, what is it ? Don't cross my hawse in that manner, you young lubber. Let mo tell the story." " I wish you wouldn't," said George. " Nonsense. You can see how shorthanded this young un was, with only one man to manage a pretty heavy sheet, for some one had to steer; and there came up one of the biggest blows we had had that year — a squall, I ought to have said. When it struck her she had everything reefed snug, so it did no harm to the sloop, but it washed the sailors before the mast overboard. What do you think ho did, this young captain ? Did he leave that struggling man to his fate, and sail on before the wind? Not a bit of it. He threw her up into the wind, fastened the tiller, and ran down to bring the sick man up in his arms, and brought him on deck, propped him up against the helm, and got out a little dingy the sloop carried — not much bigger than a Panama hat — and went after that man. What do you think of thai;, young tarry jacket, eh ? What arc you blushing at, George Manly ? You can't bear to hea. 1 good deeds spoken of, can you ?" "He did it," said Myrd, with a glowing face; "ho must not deny it, for I won't believe him." JHe passed a pleasant evening, and after that found it very convenient to drop into the captain's house during the winter evenings to play a game of chess with him. And when the captain was not at horne — and it was astonishing how often it happened — lie would stay to sing ducts with Myra. George had a magnificent voice, and they sang well together. The winter wore away, and George had fitted out the Flying Arrow for her; upward trip, when Captain Archer came down to the boat. "You don't go out to-night, George ?" he said; " I think so. The wind turns at midnight, and I think I must take advantage of it." "Then you will have plenty of time. Where have you been the last two weeks? Myra had something to tell you. I must doit myself. My little girl is going to be married to-night, George turned quickly away, and looked steadily across the harbour for a moment before he could trust himself to speak. .." Isn't it rather sudden ?" "Well, yes. I'll tell you about it. You see, he lives in Toronto, Gale Merrick does, and it was there my little girl met him. They have been engaged over a year. I wonder she never told you, for aho always ;

said if she 'could, trust anyone on earth it would be George Manly." •'l'm glad she likes me," said George, in a cold, dry tone 5 "I wish her every ioy that can come to woman. She'll be a true wife to him, and she'll deserve all the love that any man could give her." " Why, you've got to come yourself, George, j Do you think Myra would get married and you not there? Why, there isn't a man on earth she honours more than you, and I believe if she hadn't met Gale, and been promised to him before sho saw you, she would have given her heart to you." "No," said George, sadly; "no such luck. • i! i n fc tMnfe J can c6nie » captain- Say I wish them happy, but I can't got away. I would if I could." "I don't believe she will lake no for an answer, then," said the captain 5 »; she'll send the carriage down for you, sure." And so she did. But George had disappeared, and none of the sailors seemed to know where he had gone. The carnage came twice, but each time he was away. Where was he ? Crouched down in a secluded corner of the lumber yard near at hand, fighting the battle with his true honest heart. , " I could have loved her dearly," he said; " life seemed ended ; and sho asked me to come to her marriage, the innocent child! She never knew I loved her, never knew how I loved her, never knew how my heart was crying out to her night and day ; oh Myra ! Myra!" He was so near the schooner that lie heard the carriage come aud go twice, and was glad it had not found him. Then his mood changed, and ho felt he must see her before she changed her maiden name, or die. He went to the schooner, ■threw off the blouso which he wore over his clothing, and went up. A servant met him in the hall. " He's come !" sho cried ; " oh, Mr George, tins will so please Miss Myra! She was almost crying because you would not come to sec her married, and the carriage has just gone for you again ; go iuto the parlour and 1 11 send her down." Soon there was a -rustle of muslin, and Myra floated into the room, so full of beauty and light that poor George stood, like one transfixed, gazing on her. Radiant ! That was a tame word to describe such beauty as hers in her bridal dress. She gave him both her hands in the hearty manner which had always characterised her •treatment of him, and Lc took them ma clasp which made her start. " You dear good George !" she said ; "so you thought better of it and came after all ; I would never have forgiven you if you had stayed away— never, never." ' "I am glad I came," he said, sof My ; "it is better so— better, far better; I wish I knew tho man you are to marry ; lie must bo a good man to be worthy of tou." " How highly you think of me, George!" she said ; •• Ido not deserve it at your hands; but I would rather you think well* of me than any man— except Gale— in the wide world; there, you must lot me go, for the bridesmaids arc calling me, and I am not quite ready ; how do I look?" He gave her such a look that she needed no other answer, but fled with glowing cheeks up the stairs. An hour later, George Manly stood in the shadow of the window curtain, and saw her standing with her lover, and heard the solemn words fall from the lips of the divine — " And whom God hath joined together 16t no man put asunder." Two years passed, and the captain of the Flying Arrow was captain of a propeller which brought passengers and merchandise from the upper lakes. Those who knew him best were aware that he was pressed down with sorrow, but no one had known his grief except his mother. He had told her his story, and she fell upon his neck aiidjwept for him, "asonb whom his mother hnd comforted." But she was now at rest. The propeller was passing out of the last lock in the Wclland, and George was forward, watching her carefully, when passengers came on board. He had not time to attend to them then ; but when the boat was fairly out of Dalhousie, and the mate could take care of her, lie went into the dining-snloou, for the diniug-bell was ringing. They had few first-cabin passengers that day, though the steerage was full to overflowing. Most of these had already taken their seats, and George had begun to carve the meat, when the door leading to the ladies' cabin opened, and a gentleman came in, followed by a lady. The carving-knife dropped from George Manly's hand ; for Myra stood before him, with a flush of happiness upon her cheek, and her eyes dancing with fun as they sought out George's face. They came forward, and he rose quickly, and greeted them as if they had been his brother and sister. Myra was unaffectedly glad to see him, and asked him questions bf her old home, her father, and friends, and George answered her as well as ho could. He could not see that she had changed in any respect—- a little more matronly in figure, perhaps, but nothing more. Here eyes had the same old light in them which he remembered so well, and her voice was as sweet as ever. When dinner was over, Myra rose with an important air, and beckoned to George to come. " I have something to show you, sir. You are to come with mo at once, and tell me what you think." George followed her mechanically into the ladies' cabin. A nurse sat upon a sofa near the upper end of the cabin, holding in her arms a baby— Myra's child. The young mother was down upon her knees beside it, pressing her lips to the sweet mouth of the child, which crowed and stretched out its little hand to her. • " Why don't you speak to him George ?" she said, pouting; "you don't hardly even look at him, you wicked creature, and don't know what his name is." "How could I know?" said George; "I hope he has a good name." " Ho has the naino of a good man and a brave one," she answered. "Your father's!" " George Galo Mcrrick. Now what do you think of it? I would have it George, becauso I want, when my little child is old enough to understand what I mean, to point him out a model, and I want no better one than I have found." . Tho little fellow was stretching out his hands to George, who could not resist the child's pleading gesture, and he took the little fellow in his arms. His voice broke as he tried to speak. (To bo continued.)