The Quest of the Silver Swan: A Land and Sea Tale for Boys by W. Bert Foster - HTML preview

CHAPTER XL
 IN WHICH THE ENEMY IS DEFEATED AND THE QUEST OF THE SILVER SWAN IS ENDED

“BRANDON!” shouted Caleb; “it’s the boy himself!”

But Leroyd uttered a howl of rage and sprang toward the youth, his face aflame and his huge fist raised to strike. Caleb, however, despite his wooden leg, was too quick for him.

He flew to Don’s rescue, and ere Leroyd could reach his intended victim, the old mariner felled the villain to the deck with one swing of his powerful arm.

Weeks, who had also dashed forward to aid in Brandon’s overthrow, was seized by the doughty captain of the whaleback and tossed completely over the brig’s rail.

“Git out o’ here, the hull kit an’ bilin’ of ye!” Caleb roared, starting for the two men belonging to the schooner.

They obeyed with surprising alacrity, and the old man picked up the dazed Leroyd and tossed him into the boat after them. Weeks, dripping and sputtering, was hauled aboard by his companions, and the small boat was rowed back to the schooner, while Brandon, unable to restrain his emotion, threw up his hat and shouted, “Hurrah!” with all his might.

It occupied the three castaways—Milly, Brandon, and Swivel—and Mr. Coffin and Caleb, fully two hours to straighten out matters satisfactorily. They had so much to tell and so much to explain for one another’s benefit, that the whaleback had run in and the crew passed a hawser from her stern to the bow of the brig, under Mr. Bolin’s directions, ere the conference was ended.

Words cannot well express the astonishment that those on the whaleback felt at finding the castaways aboard the Silver Swan—or at finding the brig itself. For the past twelve hours they had all believed that the derelict was a victim of Uncle Sam’s feverish impatience to destroy all obstructions to commerce in his ocean.

Upon figuring the whole matter up, it was pretty evident that it was the Success which the naval ensign had exploded, for she had been sunk at the stern sufficiently to cover her name, and had been so battered by the waves that the lettering on the bow was also probably unreadable.

After believing, as they did, that the Swan was sunk and all her treasures with her, the whaleback had sailed about in circles, seeking the wreck of the Success, on which they believed Brandon and his two companions to be.

It was only by providential fortune that the brig had finally been sighted, and the whaleback had steamed up just in time to wrest the Silver Swan from Messrs. Leroyd and Weeks.

Swivel was taken aboard the steamer and carefully examined by Lawrence Coffin, who was no mean surgeon, and he pronounced the youth as seriously, if not dangerously, injured. He had burst a blood vessel and had sustained other internal injuries, and would probably be unfit for work of any kind for a long time.

“Best place for him is the Marine Hospital,” declared Mr. Coffin to Brandon and Caleb that night in the steamer’s cabin.

“Hospital nothin’!” exclaimed Caleb, with conviction. “The hospital is all right for them as hain’t go no homes—like as I hadn’t, nor no friends—a good deal as I was—nor nothing; but that boy ain’t goin’ to lack a shelter as long as I’m alive.”

“Best not take him on a sea voyage just yet, Mr. Wetherbee,” responded Mr. Coffin seriously.

“I don’t intend to. He’s goin’ ter live with me, though.”

“But won’t you sail the Silver Swan?” asked the first officer. “She’s as good as new and she’s yours, too, I understand.”

“No, sir, I’m not. When the Silver Swan is in shape again, I shall put Mr. Bolin in command of her. I’ve already spoken to him about it.”

“Whew!” whistled Mr. Coffin. “And the whaleback?”

“You’ll command her; that was the agreement I made with Adoniram before we left New York.”

“Thank you, Mr. Wetherbee,” exclaimed the first officer gratefully. “But may I ask what you propose to do?”

“I shall retire from the sea—that is, from commandin’ a ship, any way.”

“So you’re goin’ to keep bachelor’s hall, and going to take this Swivel to it?” and Mr. Coffin shook his head gravely. “He really needs a woman’s nursing.”

Caleb grew very red in the face, and blew his nose furiously.

“He—he’ll get it, Mr. Coffin,” he said hesitatingly.

Both Brandon and the first officer looked at the old tar in blank amazement.

“I said he’d get it,” repeated Caleb solemnly, though with a rather shamefaced look. “He’ll get it, sir, an’ from the trimmest little woman ye ever see.”

“It’s Miss Frances!” burst forth Brandon at length.

“It is her, my lad. An’ hain’t I right erbout her bein’ a mighty trim one?”

“She is, indeed! She’s splendid!” cried Brandon enthusiastically, seizing his friend’s mighty palm.

Mr. Coffin also offered his congratulations, but went away afterward with rather a dazed look on his face.

He was pretty well acquainted with the old seaman, and he wondered, as did Brandon, how under the sun Caleb had ever plucked up the courage to ask Adoniram Pepper’s sister for her hand.

“Yes, lad,” said the old man gravely; “I’ve been floating about from sea to sea and from land to land for the better part of fifty years, an’ now I’m goin’ ter lay back an’ take it easy for the rest of my days.”

And as Brandon wrung his hand again he felt that the old seaman fully deserved it all.

In good time the whaleback, with her tow, the derelict brig, arrived in New York, where the Silver Swan was at once sent to the shipyard for repairs, and is now doing her owner good service as a merchantman.

Adoniram Pepper & Co.’s scheme of recovering derelicts in general and towing them in for their salvage, has never amounted to anything yet, for directly following the trip of Number Three (rechristened the Milly Frank, by the way), the owner received a good offer for putting the whaleback in the European trade, and she is still carrying grain to England, with Mr. Coffin as commander.

Milly Frank’s joy at finding her relatives, of whose existence her father had never told her, was only equaled by the joy of Adoniram and Frances Pepper themselves in recovering their “little sister” again—for as such Milly appears to them.

Miss Frances is of course Miss Frances no longer; but with her husband, she still occupies her brother’s house in New York, and Milly dwells with them.

Brandon, who is at present in the naval school, resides there also during vacation, and calls the company of assorted humanity there gathered “the happy family.”

Swivel is in the West—that land of bracing and salubrious climate—for after he recovered from the accident he sustained on the wreck, the doctors told him that he could never live and be strong in the East again. So, with the assistance of Caleb, Adoniram, and Brandon, who quarreled not a little as to who should do the most for him, he was sent West, and a glorious start in business life was given him in that rapidly growing country.

Brandon himself, though made independently rich by the sale of the diamonds found by Anson Tarr, loves the sea too well to give it up altogether, and, as I said, is in the naval academy at Annapolis. When he is through school and gets his appointment, he and Milly may—but I won’t anticipate.

As for the disappointed Uncle Arad, he never pressed the matter of Brandon’s arrest after the failure of the plot (hatched up by himself and Messrs. Leroyd and Weeks) to convert his nephew’s property to his own use. He still remains on the farm at Chopmist, and by report is as crabbed and stingy as ever; but Brandon has had no desire to return to the farm since his Quest of the Silver Swan was ended.

THE END