Brave and Bold; Or, The Fortunes of Robert Rushton

"That's a pretty good yarn," said Bates, approvingly. "Did he ever get off the island?"

"Yes, he got off, and became quite rich before he died."

"Maybe it'll be so with us, lad."

"I hope so. I don't know what I should do if I were alone as he was. It's selfish in me, Bates, to be glad that you are shut up here with me, but I cannot help it."

"You needn't try, lad. It would be mighty dull being alone here, 'specially if you was tied to a tree."

"But suppose we should never get off!"

"We won't suppose that, lad. We are sure to get off some time."

This confident assurance always cheered up Robert, and for the time inspired him with equal confidence. But when day after day passed away and the promised ship did not come in sight, he used to ponder thoughtfully over his situation, and the possibility that he might have to spend years at least on this lonely island. What in the meantime would become of his mother? She might die, and if he ever returned it would be to realize the loss he had sustained. The island, pleasant as it was, began to lose its charm. If his sailor companion ever shared his feelings, he never manifested them, unwilling to let the boy see that he was becoming discouraged.

At length—about six weeks after their arrival upon the island—they were returning from an excursion to the other side of the island, when, on arriving in sight of the shore, an unexpected sight greeted their eyes.

A pole had been planted in the sand, and from it waved the familiar flag, dear to the heart of every American—the star-spangled banner.

They no sooner caught sight of it, than, in joyful excitement, they ran to the shore with all the speed they could muster.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A SUCCESSFUL MISSION

There was no one in sight, but it was evident that a party from an American ship had visited the island. Had they departed? That was a momentous question. Instinctively the eyes of both sought the sea. They saw an American ship riding at anchor a mile or more from shore.

"Give me your handkerchief, Robert," said Bates; "I'll signal them."

"It isn't very clean," said our hero.

"It'll do. See, they are looking at us."

"Your eyes must be good."

"I'm used to looking out to sea, lad."

He waved the handkerchief aloft, and felt sure that he had attracted the attention of those on board. But there was no motion to put off a boat.

"Do they see it?" asked Robert, eagerly.

"I think so."

"Do you think they will come for us? If not, we can put off in our boat."

"I think the party that planted that flagstaff hasn't got back. It is exploring the island, and will be back soon."

"Of course it is," said Robert, suddenly. "Don't you see their boat?"

"Ay, ay, lad; it's all right. All we've got to do is to stay here till they come."

They had not long to wait. A party of sailors, headed by an officer, came out of the woods, and headed for the shore. They stopped short in surprise at the sight of Robert and Bates.

"Who are you?" asked the leader, approaching.

Bates touched his hat, for he judged this was the captain of the vessel he had seen.

"I am a sailor from the ship Argonaut, bound from New York to Calcutta, and this young gentleman is Robert Rushton, passenger aboard the same ship."

"Where is your ship?"

"I don't know, captain."

"How came you here?"

"We were left here. The vessel went without us."

"How long have you been here?"

"Six weeks."

"There is something about this which I do not understand. Are you here of your own accord?"

"We are anxious to get away, captain," said Robert. "Will you take us?"

"To be sure I will. There's room enough on my ship for both of you. But I can't understand how you were left here."

"It's a long yarn, captain," said Bates. "If you haven't time to hear it now, I will tell you aboard ship."

"You look like a good seaman," said the captain, addressing Bates. "I'm short-handed just now. If you will engage with me, I will enroll you among my crew."

"That I'll do," said Bates, with satisfaction. "I wasn't made for a passenger."

"My ship is the Superior, bound from Boston to Calcutta; so your destination will be the same. My name is Smith. Do you know the name of this island?"

"I never heard of it before."

"I have taken possession of it in the name of the United States, supposing myself the first discoverer."

"That's all right. To my mind, the Star-Spangled Banner is the best that can wave over it."

"We might offer the captain our boat," suggested Robert.

The offer was made and accepted; and, while the captain and his party returned in one boat, Robert and Bates rowed to the ship in their own, and were soon on the deck of the Superior to their unbounded satisfaction.

"This is something like," said Bates. "The island is well enough, but there's nothing like the deck of a good ship."

"I don't think I wholly agree with you," said Robert, smiling; "but just at present I do. I am glad enough to be here. We may meet Captain Haley at Calcutta," he added, after a pause.

"Likely he'll have got away before we get there."

"I hope not. I should like to meet him face to face, and charge him with his treachery. I don't think he'll be over glad to see me."

"That's so, lad. He don't expect ever to set eyes on you again."

Robert soon felt at home on the new vessel. Captain Smith he found to be a very different man from Captain Haley. When he heard the story told him by our hero, he said:

"I like your pluck, Robert. You've had contrary winds so far, but you've borne up against them. The wind's changed now, and you are likely to have a prosperous voyage. This Captain Haley is a disgrace to the service. He'll be overhauled some time."

"When I get back to New York I shall tell Mr. Morgan how he treated me."

"That will put a spoke in his wheel."

"There's one thing I want to speak to you about, Captain Smith. How much will my passage be?"

"Nothing at all."

"But I have some money with me. I am willing to pay."

"Keep your money, my lad. You will need it all before you get through. I was once a poor boy myself, obliged to struggle for my living. I haven't forgotten that time, and it makes me willing to lend a helping hand to others in the same position."

"You are very kind, Captain Smith," said Robert, gratefully.

"I ought to be. How long do you want to stay in Calcutta?"

"Only long enough to look about for my father."

"Then you can return to New York in my ship. It shall cost you nothing."

This offer was gratefully accepted—the more so that our hero had begun to realize that two hundred dollars was a small sum to carry on a journey of such length.

At last they reached Calcutta. Robert surveyed with much interest the great city of India, so different in its external appearance from New York, the only great city besides that he knew anything about.

"Well, Robert," said Captain Smith, on their arrival, "what are your plans? Will you make your home on board the ship, or board in the city, during our stay in port?"

"I think," said Robert, "I should prefer to live in the city, if you would recommend me to a good boarding place."

"That I can do. I am in the habit of boarding at a quiet house kept by a widow. Her terms are reasonable, and you can do no better than go there with me."

"Thank you, Captain Smith. I shall be glad to follow your advice."

So it happened that Captain Smith and Robert engaged board at the house of Mrs. Start, where, it will be remembered, that Captain Rushton was also a boarder, passing still under the name of Smith. Physically he had considerably improved, but mentally he was not yet recovered. His mind had received a shock, which, as it proved, a shock equally great was needed to bring it back to its proper balance.

"By the way," said Mrs. Start to Captain Smith, "we have another gentleman of your name here."

"Indeed?"

"You will see him at dinner. Poor gentleman, his mind is affected, and we only gave him this name because we didn't know his real name."

Robert little dreamed who it was of whom Mrs. Start was speaking, nor did he look forward with any particular curiosity to seeing the other Mr. Smith.

When dinner was announced, Robert and the captain were early in their seats, and were introduced to the other boarders as they came in. Finally Captain Rushton entered, and moved forward to a seat beside the landlady. Robert chanced to look up as he entered, and his heart made a mighty bound when in the new Mr. Smith he recognized his father.

"Father!" he exclaimed, eagerly, springing from his seat, and overturning his chair in his haste.

Captain Rushton looked at him for a moment in bewilderment. Then all at once the mists that had obscured his faculties were dispelled, and he cried, "Robert! my dear son, how came you here?"

"I came in search of you, father. Thank Heaven I have found you alive and well."

"I think I have been in a dream, Robert. They call me Smith. That surely is not my name."

"Rushton, father! You have not forgotten?"

"Yes, that is it. Often it has been on the tip of my tongue, and then it slipped away from me. But, tell me, how came you here?"

"I am indebted to the kindness of this gentleman—Captain Smith, father—who rescued me from great peril."

This scene, of course, excited great astonishment among the boarders, and the worthy landlady who had been uniformly kind to Captain Rushton, was rejoiced at his sudden recovery. Feeling that mutual explanations in public would be unpleasant, she proposed to send dinner for both to Captain Rushton's room, and this offer was gladly accepted.

"And how did you leave your mother, Robert?" asked the captain.

"She was well, father, but mourning for your loss."

"I wish I could fly to her."

"You shall go back with me in Captain Smith's vessel. I am sure he will take us as passengers."

"So we will. You are sure your mother is well provided for? But Mr. Davis has, no doubt, supplied her with money?"

"Not a cent, father."

"Not a cent! I deposited five thousand dollars with him for her benefit, just before sailing!"

"So you wrote in the letter which you sent in the bottle."

"Was that letter received?"

"Yes; it was that which led me to come in search of you."

"And did you go to Mr. Davis?"

"He denied the deposit, and demanded to see the receipt."

"The villain! He thought I was at the bottom of the sea, and the receipt with me. He shall find his mistake!"

"Then you have the receipt still, father?"

"To be sure I have," and Captain Rushton drew it from the pocket where it had laid concealed for two years and more.

Robert regarded it with satisfaction.

"He won't dare to deny it after this. I wish we were going back at once."

"Now, Robert, tell me all that has happened in my absence, and how you raised money enough to come out here."

So father and son exchanged narrations. Captain Rushton was astonished to find that the same man, Ben Haley, who had been the cause of his misfortunes, had also come so near compassing the destruction of his son.

"Thanks to a kind Providence," he said, "his wicked machinations have failed, and we are alive to defeat his evil schemes."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

DEFEATED

In due time the Superior cleared for New York, and among the passengers were Robert and his father. Since the meeting with his son Captain Rushton's mental malady had completely disappeared, and his mental recovery affected his physical health favorably. His step became firm and elastic, his eye was bright, and Robert thought he had never looked better. Leaving the two to pursue their voyage home, we return to Captain Haley.

After leaving Robert to his fate, he kept on his way, rejoicing with a wicked satisfaction that he had got rid of an enemy who had it in his power to do him harm, for what Robert might suffer in his island prison, he cared little. He took it for granted that he would never get away, but would pass his life, be it longer or shorter, in dreary exile. Though the crew did not know all, they knew that the captain had heartlessly left Robert to his fate, and all were animated by a common feeling of dislike to their commander, who never under any circumstances would have been popular. But there was no one among them bold enough to come forward and charge Haley with his crime, even when they reached Calcutta. The captain moved among them, and his orders were obeyed, but not with alacrity. This satisfied him, for he cared nothing for the attachment of those under his command.

One day in Calcutta he had a surprise.

He met Captain Rushton one day when out walking. It seemed like one risen from the dead, for he supposed him lying at the bottom of the sea. Could his eyes deceive him, or was this really the man whom he had so grossly injured? Captain Rushton did not see Haley, for he was partly turned away from him, and was busily conversing with a gentleman of his acquaintance. Haley drew near, and heard Captain Rushton addressed as Mr. Smith. He at once decided that, in spite of the wonderful resemblance, it was not the man he supposed, and breathed more freely in consequence. But he could not help looking back to wonder at the surprising likeness.

"They are as near alike as if they were brothers," he said to himself.

He did not again catch sight of Captain Rushton while in Calcutta.

Before Robert arrived, Captain Haley had sailed for home. But he met with storms, and his vessel received injuries that delayed her, so that his ship only reached New York on the same day with the Superior, bearing as passengers Robert and his father. Our hero lost no time in calling upon his friend, Mr. Morgan, and actually reached the office an hour before Haley, the Superior having reached her pier a little in advance of the other vessel.

When Robert walked into the office, Mr. Morgan, who was at his desk, looked up, and recognized him at once.

"Welcome back, my young friend," he said, cordially, rising to meet him. "I am glad to see you, but I didn't expect you quite so soon. How did you happen to come in advance of the captain?"

"Then you have not heard what happened at sea?" said Robert.

"Yes," said the merchant. "I heard, much to my regret, of Captain Evans' death. He was a worthy man, and I am truly sorry to lose him. What do you think of his successor, Captain Haley? He has never before sailed for me."

"After I have told my story, you can judge of him for yourself. I did not return on your vessel, Mr. Morgan, but on the Superior, Captain Smith."

"How is that?" asked the merchant, surprised.

"Because Captain Haley left me on an island in the Southern Ocean, bound to a tree, and probably supposes that I am dead."

"Your story seems incredible, Robert. Give me a full account of all that led to this action on the part of the captain."

My readers shall not be wearied with a repetition of details with which they are already familiar. Robert related what had happened to him in a straightforward manner, and Mr. Morgan never thought of doubting his statements.

"This Haley must be a villain," he said. "You are, indeed, fortunate in having escaped from the snare he laid for you."

"I have been fortunate in another way also," said Robert. "I have succeeded in the object of my voyage."

"You have not found your father?"

"I found him in Calcutta, and I have brought him home with me."

"You must have been born under a lucky star, Robert," said the merchant. "Were your father's adventures as remarkable as yours?"

"It was the same man who nearly succeeded in accomplishing the ruin of both—Captain Haley was my father's mate, and was he who, in revenge for some fancied slight, set fire to the vessel in mid-ocean, and then escaped."

Scarcely had this revelation been made, when a clerk entered, and approaching Mr. Morgan, said, "Captain Haley would like to see you."

Mr. Morgan glanced at Robert significantly.

"I wish to know what explanation Mr. Haley has to give of your disappearance. There is a closet. Go in, and close the door partially, so that you may hear what passes without yourself being seen."

Robert was hardly established in his place of concealment when Haley entered the office.

"Good-morning, Mr. Morgan," he said, deferentially, for he wished to keep in his employer's good graces.

"Good-morning, sir," said the merchant, formally. "Captain Haley, I believe?"

"Yes, sir I succeeded to the command of the Argonaut upon the lamented death of my friend, Captain Evans. His death happened on our passage out. I proceeded at once to Calcutta, and after disposing of the cargo sailed for home."

"Your voyage has been a long one."

"Yes, we have had stress of weather, which has delayed us materially. I regret this, but did the best I could under the circumstances. I hope to have discharged my duties in a manner satisfactory to you."

"I cannot, of course, blame you for delay, since the weather was quite beyond your control," said the merchant, but his tone was marked by coldness, for which Haley found it difficult to account. He was anxious to remain in command of the Argonaut, but the want of cordiality evinced by his employer made him doubtful of his success. He was not timid, however, and resolved to broach the subject.

"I hope, Mr. Morgan," he said, "that you have sufficient confidence in me to intrust me I with the command of the Argonaut on her next voyage?"

"He certainly is not lacking in audacity," thought Mr. Morgan. "We will speak of that matter hereafter," he said. "Did my young friend, Robert Rushton, return with you?"

Now was the critical moment. In spite of his audacity, Haley felt embarrassed.

"No, sir," he replied.

"Indeed! I expected that you would bring him back."

"May I ask if the boy is a relative of yours?"

"No, he is not."

"So much the better."

"Why do you say that? I am particularly interested in him."

"Then, sir, my task becomes more painful and embarrassing."

"You speak in enigmas, Captain Haley."

"I hesitate to speak plainly. I know you will be pained by what I have to tell you."

"Don't consider my feelings, Captain Haley, but say what you have to say."

"Then I regret to say that the boy, Robert Rushton, is unworthy of your friendship."

"This is a grievous charge. Of course, I expect you to substantiate it."

"I will do so. Shortly after the death of Captain Evans and my accession to the command I found that this boy was trying to undermine my influence with the men, from what motives I cannot guess. I remonstrated with him mildly but firmly, but only received insolence in return. Nevertheless I continued to treat him well on account of the interest you felt in him. So things went on till we reached Calcutta. He left me at that time, and to my surprise did not return to the ship. I was able to account for his disappearance, however, when I missed one hundred and fifty dollars, of which I have not the slightest doubt that he robbed me. I should have taken measures to have him arrested, but since you felt an interest in him I preferred to suffer the loss in silence. I fear, Mr. Morgan, that you have been greatly deceived in him."

"I suspect that I have been deceived," said Mr. Morgan, gravely. "It is only fair, however, Captain Haley, to hear both sides, and I will therefore summon the boy himself to answer your charge. Robert!"

At the summons, to Captain Haley's equal surprise and dismay, Robert stepped from the closet in which he had been concealed.

"What have you to say, Robert?" asked the merchant.

"Captain Haley knows very well the falsehood of what he says," said our hero, calmly. "It was not at Calcutta I left the Argonaut, nor was it of my own accord. Captain Haley, with his own hands, tied me to a tree on a small island in the Southern Ocean, and there left me, as he supposed, to a solitary death. But Heaven did not forsake me, and sent first a brave sailor and afterward a ship to my assistance. The charge that I stole money from him I shall not answer, for I know Mr. Morgan will not believe it."

Captain Haley was not a fool, and he knew that it would be useless to press the charge further. He rose from his seat; his face was dark with anger and smarting under a sense of defeat.

"You have not done with me yet," he said to Robert, and without another word left the office.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CUP AND THE LIP

Affairs in Millville had gone on much as usual. Mrs. Rushton had not yet exhausted the supply of money left by Robert in the hands of his friend the lawyer. Her expenses were small, and were eked out by her earnings; for she continued to braid straw, and was able in this way to earn two dollars a week. Indeed, she made it a point to be as economical as possible, for she thought it likely Robert would spend all his money, and return penniless. She had received no letter from him since the one announcing his being about to sail for Calcutta, and this made her naturally anxious. But Mr. Paine assured her that letters were likely to be irregular, and there was no ground for alarm. So she waited with what patience she could till Robert should return, hoping that by some strange chance he might succeed in his quest, and bring his father back with him.

Meanwhile, fortune had improved with Mr. Davis, the superintendent of the factory. He had lost largely by speculation, but had blundered at last into the purchase of a stock in which some interested parties had effected a corner. It went up rapidly, and on the morning when we introduce him again to the reader he was in high good spirits, having just received intelligence from his broker that he had cleared seven thousand dollars by selling at the top of the market.

"Another cup of coffee, Mrs. Davis," he said, passing his cup across the table.

Seeing that his father appeared in good humor, Halbert ventured to prefer a request, which, however, he had little hope of having granted.

"Have you seen Will Paine's pony?" he said, paving the way for the request.

"Yes," said his father; "I saw him on it yesterday."

"It's a regular beauty—I wish I had one."

"How much did it cost?"

"Two hundred dollars."

"That is rather a high price."

"But it will increase in value every year. I wish you would buy me one, father."

"I think I will," said the superintendent, helping himself to a fresh slice of toast.

"Do you mean it?" asked Halbert, in the utmost astonishment.

"Certainly I do. I can afford you a pony as well as Mr. Paine can afford to buy William one."

"Thank you!" said Halbert, his selfish nature more nearly affected by gratitude than ever before. "You are very kind. When will you see about it?"

"I am busy. You may go yourself and ask Mr. Paine where he got William's pony, and if he knows of any other equally good."

"That I will," said Halbert, leaving the table in haste.

"Halbert, you have eaten scarcely anything," said his mother.

"I am not hungry," said the excited boy, seizing his hat, and dashing off in the direction of Mr. Paine's office.

"By the way, Mrs. Davis," said the husband, "I think you mentioned last week that the parlor needed a new carpet."

"So it does. The old one is looking very shabby."

"How much will a new one cost?"

"I can get a nice Brussels for a hundred dollars."

"Well, you may order one."

It was the wife's turn to be astonished, for on broaching the subject the week previous, her husband had given her a lecture on extravagance, and absolutely refused to consider her request. This was before the tidings of his good fortune. She was not slow to accept the present concession, and assumed an unusually affectionate manner, in the excess of her delight.

Meanwhile, Halbert, in opening the front door, came in collision with a boy taller and stouter than himself, brown and sunburned. But, changed as he was, he was not slow in recognizing his old enemy, Robert Rushton.

"What, are you back again?" he said, ungraciously.

"So it appears. Is your father at home?"

"Yes; but he is at breakfast. I don't think you can see him."