v y 
rugged ferocity about him that was not with¬ 
out its attractions for less bold spirits, who 
were willing to recognize in Black Steve the 
presence ot a master inind in wrongdoing. 
Ilis companion was a little, shambling, 
red-haired man, who squinted horribly, and 
walked with a limp—a villain of a far more 
intellectual stamp than Black Steve, by 
whom, as it soon appeared, he was regarded 
with much respect if not with absolute fear. 
Both men were dressed in a rough, half-sea¬ 
faring costume; but Main noticed after¬ 
wards that the red-haired mairs bands were 
white and slender as those of a woman, and 
that his accent and style of speaking were 
those of a person of some education. 
Black Steve, when be had in some measure 
recovered from his surprise at finding Mam 
Gurlock there, or, as he called her, Janet 
Gawuc—such having been her maiden name 
—gave vent to a laugh that seemed to shake 
the very building, so loud and uproarious 
was it; while poor Mam, white and terrified, 
crept still further away, till the wall arrested 
her further progrecs. 
“ Caught in as pretty a little trap as ever 
I see in the whole course of my life 1 ” ex¬ 
claimed Black Steve, with much gusto. ** Sit 
down, Mr. Cris; sit down for a moment, 
while I explain this little affair.” 
Mr. Cris took a chair, and nodded to his 
friend to proceed. 
“ You’ll perhaps hardly believe it, but I 
was once in love with that white-faced cat,” 
resumed Steve. “I’ve laughed to myself 
many a time since to think what a fool 1 was, 
but 1 did love her then, no mistake; and 1 
believe I should have won her, if that smooth¬ 
faced Miles Gurlocklnidn't come between us ; 
but from that day I was like dirt under my 
lady’s feet. On the night of Warrcndale 
Mr, I, thinking no harm, tried to kiss her; 
but she slapped me in the face, and told me 
her mind in a way that opened my eyes com¬ 
pletely ; and then up came Gurlock and 
knives were out, and there would have been 
blood spilt, if they bad not separated us by 
force. I swore to be revenged on both of 
’em, and Black Steve always keeps his 
promise. If that girl hadn’t jilted me, 1 
should never have been what 1 am now; 
but that’s neither here nor there. Seven years 
have gone by since that time, but it’s all as 
fresh in my mind as if [t had happened only 
yesterday. I swore to he revenged, and you 
will see whether I know how to keep my 
promise 1 ” 
lie brought his huge fist down upon the 
table with a bang and emphasized what he 
hacl said by half a dozen terrible oaths. 
The noise awoke Jamie, and the next 
moment one of the dimity curtains was 
drawn on one side, and the lad’s pretty dis¬ 
hevelled head thrust through the opening. 
The two men were fortunately standing with 
their backs to the berths, and did not see the 
movement; but Mam saw it, and ber heart 
gave a great bound as the thought of her 
child’s clanger flashed for the first time across 
her mind. A drooping of the eyebrows over 
the staring wide-open eyes, an imperceptible 
movement of the head, and quick-witted 
Jamie took the hiut intended for him; he 
drew back in silence, the dimity curtain 
dropped into its place, and the wild look of 
terror died in some measure out of the 
trembling mother’s eyes. With heaven’s help, 
she thought she could bear whatever they 
might choose to inflict on her, if only her 
boy might be permitted to escape unharmed. 
This little by-scene had taken but a mo¬ 
ment to enact, and Mr. Cris’sshrill cacbinna- 
tion, which had burst out irrepressibly at the 
conclusion of his friend’s story, was still ring¬ 
ing in Mam’s cars at the instant that the as¬ 
piration for the child’s safety was wrung 
from her fluttered heart. 
“ As pretty a little romance of unrequited 
affection as I’ve heard for a long time,” ex¬ 
claimed Mr. Cris, as soon as his laughter had 
subsided ; “ and I’m not the one to stand in 
the way of your revenge, Steve, my boy, al¬ 
though it’s a sort of thing in which I never 
indulge myself. But, first of all, let us at¬ 
tend to business—let us accomplish the pur¬ 
pose for which we came here; there will be 
time enough to consider this young person’s 
case afterwards—eh ?” 
Black Steve gave a growl of assent, and 
proceeded to examine the priming of liis 
pistols. 
“ Will madame oblige me by taking a 
seat?” resumed Mr. Cris, in the blandest of 
tones, addressing himself to Mam, and point¬ 
ing to a chair. Mam felt that she was obliged 
to comply, and sat down accordingly. “ Par¬ 
don the liberty I am about to take,” went on 
Mr. Cris; “ but the necessities of the case 
must be my excuse.” 
So speaking, he drew from his pocket some 
pieces of thin cord with which he proceeded 
to fasten Main dexterously and securely in 
her chair, so that when ho had clone, she 
could move neither hand nor foot; and any 
violent effort to get away must have resulted 
in her falling, bound and helpless, to the 
floor; Black Steve meanwhile looking on in 
silent admiration at his friend's handiwork. 
In any ordinary case of violence, Mam would 
have begged for mercy, and not have been 
without hope that her prayer would be 
jEiJ&d 
granted; but when she looked from one face 
to the other of the two villains in whose 
power she was, she saw how much worse 
than useless such a plea would be, aud main¬ 
tained the stubborn silence of despair. 
“ I am now going to put one or two inter¬ 
rogative# to you,” resumed Mr. Cris, as soon 
as he had satisfied himself that it was im¬ 
possible for her to stir, “and the more truth¬ 
fully you answer me, the better it will be for 
your own welfare.” 
“ I will answer none of thy questions, un¬ 
til thou or thy mate tells me what has be¬ 
come of my husband,” said Mam, stubbornly. 
“Your husband — wretch! What do 1 
know or care about your husband ?" 
Black Steve whispered a word or two in 
his friend’s ear. 
“ Oh, that was him, was it ?” said Mr. Cris, 
aloud. “ lie’s been well looked after, you 
may be sure,” he added, turning to Mam; 
“ we have not forgotten to attend to his lit¬ 
tle comforts; only ifs not convenient for 
him to come home this evening. He desired 
his love to you, and begged you would not 
fret—no, not even if it should happen that 
you were never to see him again.” 
Black Sieve was tickled by his friend’s 
pleasantry, and vowed with a terrible oath 
that Mr. Cris was the best company in the 
world. 
A horrible misgiving took possession of 
Mam’s heart; these men had murdered her 
husband, and seized his boat, and were here 
for some vile purpose, of which as yet she 
was in ignorance. And Abel ltusliton, too 
—what had become of him V had lie shared 
a similar fate? If rumor spoke truly, the 
stain of blood lay already on the soul of 
Steve Davidson; and that lie and bis com¬ 
panion would hold her own life cheaply, she 
had every reason to believe. Well, if Miles 
were really gone, it hardly mattered what 
became of her, she thought. Ah, yes; there 
was Jamie! for his sake she must pray that 
Heaven’s mercy might find for her some 
loop-hole of escape 1 
These bitter thoughts occupied Mam Gur¬ 
lock so deeply, that she scarcely hoard the 
question which Mr. Cris proceeded to put to 
her, and lie was obliged to repeat it before 
she could fully comprehend its import. 
“ Where does Martin Gilbert keep his 
store of money ?’’ 
“ I don’t know," said Mam, wearily, when 
asked for the second time. 
“ You lie!” said Mr. Cris, fiercely. “ Don’t 
you know that, three months ago, old Gil¬ 
bert had a legacy of three hundred pounds 
left him, and that he is such a miser, and 
puts so little faith in the safety of banks, 
that he always keeps the money by him 
wherever he may be—on shore during his 
holiday t imes, and in the light house when 
he is on duty? Don’t you know these 
things, I say ?” 
“ I know that old Martin had a bit of 
money left him, but where he hides it away 
I know no more than the dead.” 
“ We'll soon teach you to know," said Mr. 
Cris, with an oath. But at this juncture 
Black Steve touched his friend on the shoul¬ 
der, and with a meaning grin drew that per¬ 
sonage’s attention to a seaman’s chest placed 
against the wall, on which the name of Mar¬ 
tin Gilbert was painted in large letters. 
“ It will be here if anywhere,” said Steve. 
“ Try,” said Mr. Cris sententiously, as he 
drew a long, ugly-looking knife from one of 
his pockets, and felt its point appreciatively 
with his thumb. 
The chest was locked, but the skillful 
hand of Black Steve, with the aid of a skel¬ 
eton key, soon tickled open the simple wards. 
The numerous layers of clothes, all method¬ 
ically arranged, were tossed unceremonious¬ 
ly on the floor, and Sieve’s itching fingers, 
diving here and there towards the bottom of 
the box, brought to light before long the ob¬ 
ject of which they were in search. With a 
yell of triumph he drew forth a canvas bag 
full of sovereigns, and flung it on the table. 
Mr. Cris’ ugly-looking knife was put back 
into its sbeath without delay, and the two 
men seated themselves at the table to count 
over their ill-gotten gains. While they were 
thus employed, the dimity curtains opened 
again, and Jamie’s frightened face peered 
through. The men were so intently occu¬ 
pied that Mam could without fear signal 
Jamie, by sundry frowns and shakings of 
the heed, that he must on no account allow 
himself to he seen. Jamie understood, and 
was seen no more. 
“ A hundred and ninety each, and a very 
pretty little haul!” exclaimed Black Steve, 
when the money had been divided into two 
heaps. 
“ The old fellow’s legacy and savings all 
in a lump,” remarked his friend, compla¬ 
cently. 
“No doubt of it,” said Steve. “For my 
part, I think we can’t do less than drink Mr. 
Martin Gilbert’s health. What say you?” 
“ Agreed. Only find something fit to 
drink, and I’m your man.” 
“Oh, I've been here before to-day, and 
know where the stores are kept.” 
“ What about her ?” said Mr. Cris, jerking 
his thumb over his shoulder in the direction 
of his prisoner. 
“ Time enough to finish her little business, 
curse her! before we go,” said Block Steve; 
and with a diabolical laugh, he descended 
the staircase to the lower room, taking with 
him a small lantern. “ A prize, a prize 1” 
he shouted, next minute. “ Come here, old 
fellow, and give a helping hand !” 
Mr. Cris jumped up and followed his 
friend into the lower room. Black Steve 
had, in fact, found a bale of rich stuffs and 
a keg of Hollands which the light-house 
keepers had picked out of an abandoned 
ship a few days before, and which Martin 
Gilbert had pul temporarily away with other 
stores. 
Mam Gurlock was left, alone. Now or 
never, she must make an effort for liberty 
and life. If they could only creep out un¬ 
seen—she and Jamie—and get down to the 
boat before their flight was discovered ! But 
in that little if lay the whole difficult}'. It 
was a dangerous game to play, with the two 
men in the lower room, through which she 
would have to pass with Jamie in her arms. 
Both the men were armed with pistols; and 
even if she got dear of the rock before they 
discovered her fligli t, she could scarcely hope 
to get out of range, and would they not at¬ 
tempt to shoot her down as she sat at the 
oars? Well, she must take her chance of 
that. Jamie must lie laid for safety at thu 
bottom of the boat; and for her own part, 
it would be better to die either by a bullet 
or by drowning than to fall again into the 
hands of those terrible men. To prevent 
pursuit the other boat must be cut, adrift. 
“Hist! Inst, Jamie!” called Mam, in a 
loud whisper, and the next moment the little 
face showed itself through the dimity cur¬ 
tain, looking more bewildered than fright¬ 
ened, for Jamie had not understood half the 
strange expressions lie had heard; and the 
idea of harm happening to his mother was 
something he could hardly comprehend. 
“Don’t speak, but get softly out of bed, 
and come hither,” added Mam, in a low, 
smothered voice. 
Jamie slipped out of bed with the quick¬ 
ness of a lamplighter. 
“ O, Mam, what have the bad men done 
to thee?” lie cried, forgetting his mother’s 
caution, as lie ran to her. 
“Hush-h-h!” cried Mam, with a look of 
terror. “Thou mustn’t speak just yet; hut 
take that knife that lies on the table and cut 
this cord that holds my arms. That’s it. 
Now, give me the knifeand next minute 
the several cords fell one by one to the 
ground. 
Her first act was to snatch up Jamie in 
her arms. “ God in heaven bless t.liec, my 
darling, and keep thee from all harm 1 ” she 
murmured, through the yearning, passionate 
kisses that fell in a shower on his face and 
neck. The next moment she was herself 
again, resolute and composed. She put 
the lad down with a last word of caution, 
drew off her shoes, und stealing on tip-toe 
to the staircase, went down on her hands 
aud knees, and looked through the opening. 
The trap-door of the store-closet was open, 
and tilted up on end; and in their eagerness 
to examine their booty more closely, Black 
Steve and his companion had leaped into 
the cavity, which when only half filled with 
stores—as was the case at present—was in¬ 
deed quite large enough to hold three or 
four men. They had apparently opened the 
hale of silk, and were now, by the obscure 
light of the lantern, engaged iu driving a 
largo gimlet into the keg of hnllands, as the 
readiest mode of getting at the contents 
As Mam Gurlock looked down upon this 
scene, there flashed through her brain 
a sudden thought, which sent the blood 
coursing to her heart, and turned, for a mo- ] 
meat or two, both the place and the per¬ 
sons before her into a picture as wild, 
blotted and incoherent as the dream of any 
lunatic. She knelt, with her hands pressed 
to her brow, for a space of several seconds, 
till the beating at her heart was somewhat 
stilled ; then, holding up a cautionary finger 
to Jamie, she stole down the staircase into 
the lower room, glided forward like an omi¬ 
nous shadow, till her hand rested on the 
trap-door, and peering with white face round 
the edge of it, saw that the two men were 
still intent on their occupation, and that her 
presence was unsuspected. One after the 
other the two iron hooks that held the door 
in its upright position were silently removed, 
and the same instant it fell forward into its 
place with a terrific crash, and shut in the 
two men who were below. Mam Gurlock 
sprang forward as the door fell, and before 
either Black Steve or his friend could re¬ 
cover from their astonishment had run home 
the two large bolts with which the trap, 
when down, was secured in its place. 
Now for the boats 1 To run nimbly up 
the staircase into the upper room, to wrap 
Jamie in the warm pea-jacket she had been 
mending for his father, to lift him in her 
arms, and hasten down again, and so past 
the trap—where the imprisonmed men were 
already making desperate efforts to break 
out—to the outer door, and then swiftly 
down the outside ladder, and then skirting 
the base of the light-house, along the rocks 
at a rapid pace towards the little cove in 
which the boats were ordinarily moored, 
still holding the lad tightly pressed in her 
arms — was the work of a minute. She 
knew the old wooden trap would not long 
withstand the desperate strength of Black 
Steve, and she must get away from the 
Skeve Mlioil before the two men broke 
loose. Down she went, swiftly but cau¬ 
tiously over the slippery juts of rock, look¬ 
ing neither to the right hand nor to the left, 
but picking her way with care towards the 
little basin in the rocks—before her life and 
liberty—behind her—. But where were the 
boats? 
Once, twice, thrice she looked around; 
but t he boats were nowhere to be seen. The 
warm flush of hope that had begun to kindle 
round her heart was rudely quenched. In 
agonized despair she stood for a minute or 
two, utterly puzzled and confounded by her 
inability to account, for the disappearance of 
the boats. That Abel Rush ton was nowhere 
to be seen, caused her no surprise, believing 
as she did, that he had been murdered and 
thrown into the sea. Still, the boats could 
not have been taken away except by human 
hands, and gone they certainly were. She 
set. Jamie down for an instant, then turned 
and hurried up the rocks, and standing on 
the highest ledge, strained her eyes out over 
the dark waste of water. After a little while, 
right in a silver track of moonlight, and not 
more than a quarter of a mile from the 
Skeve Mlioil she plainly saw two boats 
lnsbcd together, iu the larger of w hich a 
man was seated. Looking more intently, 
she distinguished that the smaller boat was 
ber husband’s own little Seamew, and the 
larger one belonging to the light-house, 
while the mail seated in the latter could he 
no other than Al>cl Rushton, whose sprained 
shoulder would prevent him from using the 
oars. He had not been killed, then, as Mam 
had surmised, and that he had not, got clear 
away was evident, his purpose in taking 
both boats, doubtless, being to prevent pur¬ 
suit, and by cutting off their means of escape 
from the rock, to render the capture of the 
two men a matter of certainty. But Abel’s 
accident precluded him from rowing; the 
boats bad got into a current which ran direct 
for the lee of the Giant’s Nose, a headland 
some four miles away; and even supposing 
he should succeed in landing there—always a 
matter of some difficulty—three or four 
hours must necessarily elapse before any help 
could be looked for from him; and in that 
time, what might not happen ? 
Mam had no means of signaling Abel. 
No, she was as utterly isolated and cut off 
from all human aid as it Abel and the boats 
were a thousand miles away; her last chance 
of life was gone. She turned and hurried 
back to the spot where she had left Jamie. 
If the men had not yet succeeded in break¬ 
ing out of the trap, she would hide him in 
the berth again, where happily he might re¬ 
main undiscovered till help should arrive. 
But when she reached the light-house,.with 
Jamie in her arms, and had set foot on the 
lowest rung of the ladder, she heard the 
crash of breaking wood in the room above, 
and the loud voices of the two men as they 
buret out of their confinement, and knew 
that she was too late. All her mother's soul 
went forth in a brief, agonized cry to Heaven 
that her child might be 6 aved; and then, 
hardly knowing whither she was going, she 
ran back to Hie landing place, crouched down 
on the rocks and pressed her boy passionate¬ 
ly to her heart. Another minute or two now 
would decide their fate. The ruffians, after 
hunting for her in the liglit-house, would 
come down and search the rocks, and find 
her—find both of them. She looked with 
longing eyes at the great dark waves as they 
came rolling in, and hurst in an angry shiver 
of spray against the rocks. Would it, not be 
well to court an easy death in their cool, 
liquid depths, and to save herself and child 
from a far more terrible fate? But all the 
instincts of her nature rose up in revolt at 
the idea, and she dismissed the thought al¬ 
most as soon as conceived. No! she would 
fight for her life while the faintest hope re¬ 
mained, and, when that was gone, would 
strive to die bravely, as the wife of Miles Gur¬ 
lock ought to die. 
“ I wish dad would come and take ns 
home,” sighed Jamie, whose fears were be¬ 
ginning to be lost in his desire for sleep. 
“Last time I was here, I crept into the 
Kelpie's Hole, and when dad couldn’t see 
me, and rarely frightened he was.” 
The Kelpie’s Hole! How foolish of her 
not to have thought of it before 1 Here was 
the very refuge for which she had been 
praying, recalled to her recollection by the 
thoughtless prattle of her child. She bent 
her head humbly a moment, and a solemn 
feeling of gratitude pervaded licr whole be¬ 
ing, But she had no time to lose. “ Thou 
must hide in the Kelpie’s Hole again to¬ 
night, Jamie, ray man,” she said; “ and thou 
musn’t speak, nor let anybody know thou’s 
there, nor show so much as thy nose out of 
it till the two bad men have gone away, and 
Abel Rushton or thy dad comes back to the 
Skeve. Dost thou understand ?” 
She had been stripping off her warm wool- 
sey petticoat as she spoke thus, in which she 
now proceeded to wrap Jamie, putting 
Miles’ heavy pea-jacket over all; and then 
snatching him up in her arms, she ran to the 
little jutting ledge of rock under which was 
the entrace to the Kelpie’s Hole, an entrance 
only just large enough for Jamie, encum¬ 
bered as he was, to wriggle through, but ex¬ 
panding inside into a tiny cavern. 
Mam would have liked much to say a few 
farewell words to the. child whom she hardly 
expected to see again on earth, but there 
there was no time for her to do so. She 
heard the voices of the two men as they 
were descending the ladder to come in search 
of ber, and had barely time to imprint a last 
lingering kiss on the lad’s lips, and to see 
him creep quietly into bis hiding place, when 
a yell of triumph from Black Steve pro¬ 
claimed that she was seen, and she ran with 
weak, uncertain footsteps from the danger¬ 
ous neighborhood of the Hole. Then, pre¬ 
tending that her foot had slipped, and that 
she could go no further, she sank down on 
her knees on the rock, and waited with 
clasped hands and bowed head for what 
might happen next.—[Concluded next week. 
•-♦♦♦--—■—- 
POOR POLL. 
Tins Youth’s Companion is responsible for 
these anecdotes:—Some years ago, but ay i th¬ 
in the memory of man, a parrot’s cage hung 
in a baker's shop in the good old town of 
Salem. The parrot was a handsome one, 
with gay plumage, and being given to say¬ 
ing sharp and witty things, by accident or 
otherwise, was quite the pride and attraction 
of the shop. 
But Poll, unfortunately, although a bird, 
had some human weaknesses, and the baker 
being only human, it sometimes fell out that 
they got into difficulty; quarreled, you might 
even say, if the truth were to be told. 
Though as Poll had, for her own part, a 
forgiving disposition, and used, at such t imes, 
after keeping discreetly quiet for a while, to 
conic out suddenly Avith some very Aviso or 
droll remark, that set all the shop laughing, 
these troubles ordinarily blew over before 
long. 
It happened one day that the city weigher 
came in, according to custom, to examine 
the baker’s stock of bread, and ascertain 
whether it agreed Avith the weight prescribed 
by laAv. Ever}' thing was found to be riglit, 
and the weigher was just about to leave the 
shop, when Poll, who bad been narrowly 
watching proceedings from between her bars, 
called out,— 
“ Light bread! under the bed! Light 
bread! under the bed 1” 
The Aveigher, taking the hint, turned, and 
passing into a back room, found concealed 
under the bed a large quantity of loaves of 
of light weight, which he immediately 
seized, imposing, also, a heavy fine upon 
the shop. 
He was no sooner gone than the baker, in 
a rage, seized a dipper of hot water and 
threw it over the parrot’s cage. Fortunately 
he was too hot himself to aim well, and only 
a small part of it reached the luckless Poll- 
That, however, fell upon her guilty head, and 
took off all its brilliant red feathers, her 
special pride. They did not grow again for 
a long time, and then only in a ragged, mis¬ 
erable way, and poor Poll seemed to carr} 
the scar of her disgrace in her very heart- 
She drooped and hung her head, and seldom 
spoke unless at twilight, when she seemed 
to feel that a kindly veil was thrown over 
her deformity. 
Things had been in this way for a year or 
more, when one day a gentleman came into 
the shop, who had lost almost all his hair, 
presenting a round, shiny pate, Avith only a 
narrow rim of curls round the back and 
temples. 
Poll looked earnestly at him, turning her 
head from side to side, and winking know¬ 
ingly through her bars, until he turned to go, 
when she croaked out in a sympathizing 
tone— 
“Been saying light bread? Been saying 
light bread?” 
Not long after this it fell out that Poll was 
guilty of some misdemeanor so entirely ex¬ 
hausting to tier master’s patience, that seiz¬ 
ing ber by the head, he wrung her neck and 
threw her into the gutter for dead. 
But Poll had no idea of giving up for such 
a trifle; she lay quite still for an hour or 
two, until her injured feelings had somewhat 
recovered, when getting slowly and surely 
upon Her ugly feet, she began looking about 
for consolation. She found it in the shape 
of some corn which had been spilled near 
by, and ay as comfortably picking it up, when 
a lank, wicked-looking cat got sight of her, 
and planned a new and last calamity. Poll 
saw her draw nearer and nearer, one noise¬ 
less step at a time, but went quietly on Avith 
her corn, keeping a sharp lookout, however, 
until just as the cat was drawing herself up 
for a spring. Then, ruffling up her feathers 
with a frightful puff, and making a dart to¬ 
ward the cat with her beak, she cried out in 
a terrible voice, “ Scat! you beast!” With J 
one terrified turn, and a dash round the “ 
the corner. Bitch as only a cat can make, 
Tabby disappeared forever, and the baker, 
Avho had watched the proceedings, avrs so 
irresistible amused, that he laughed himself 
into good humor, and bringing the parrot in, 
hung her up in her cage once more, where 
she finished her days without further serious 
misfortune. 
4 
a 
