Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1853-11-25
some in person, and Of a very prepossessing coun-

| tenance.
As is often the case, however, this persons
character sadly belied his looks. For nothwith-
standing these external signs or promises of a
better nature, he was in no respect less wicked,
in no degree less inhuman than the most ferocious
of those by whom he surrounded. Indeed,
by none of them had his deeds of blood on this
dreadful night been equalled, two-thirds of all
t those killed in the vessel including her unfortu-
/ nate master, having perished by his individual
hand This young man the captain or lea
| der of this band OF murderers, who, it need
scarcely be added, were also pirates, and of the
worst and most desperate character
! Having refreshed themselves the rufiians pro-
ceeded to rife the cabin of the little trader, in
which they found good deal of money and val
uables of various kinds. Thus employing them
! selves, the night wore away, and when morning
dawned, its light revealed low, black, mischie-
vous-loolling schooner, with masts raking know
ingly abaft, rounded the bluff point in which the
| land on the southern side terminated. 1t was
| the pirate vessel to which the boat belonged
that had boarded and captured the little ira
der.
| Aware of the success of her boats crew, she
was now coming up to take on board the plum
der the latter had secured.
In less than half an hour she was alongside
the ill-fated vessel, when the pirates commenced
removing the cargo from their prize into the
schooner, together with every thing useful or val
liable on which they could lay their hands.
Night closed this busy and guilty day with the
pirates, and when new sun arose on the lonely
African bay, no vessel was to be seen floating on
its bosom. 1t was deserted. The pirates had,
during the darkness of night, scuttlcd and sunk
their prize with the bodies other murdered crew,
and had themselves put to sea, in order TO get as
fast and as far away as possible from the scene
of their guilt.
1t about twelve years afterthe occurrence
of this tragedy, that the stage coach (it then
the only one) that passed through Newarton, IN
the south of Scotland, capsized at an abrupt turn
of the road, about mile and half west of the
village named, whereby several ofthe passengers
were more or less injured.
Amongst the sufferers on the occasion above
alluded to, was a gentleman outside passen-
ger, who was so seriously injured that he had to
be carried to the nearest house. This was a neat
little cottage of the better class, with slate roof
small ornamental garden in front, and enclosed
with neat iron railing 1t was the residence of
Mrs. Evandale, widow lady Oidccent, though
not affiuent circumstances, and her daughter,
very pretty young woman of about SIX and twen-
ty years of age.
Being of a kind and benevolent disposition,
Mrs. Evandale eagerly opened her door to admit
the disabled stranger, who was carried by some
countrymen, who had witnessed the accident
from field in which they happened at the mo-
ment to be working.
The wounded man having been carefully laid
on couch a messenger was instantly dispatch
ed for a medical man.
For several weeks he lay in very precarious
state, but a robust constitution and sbillful med
ical aid finally triumphed, and he began gradual
ly, though slowly, to recover. Afractured limb,
however, kept him confined to bed, and threat
ened to do for some time to come.
1t was at the end of about ten days after he
had been brought to Mrs. Evandale's, and when
he first began to rally that the stranger sent for
his kind hostess, and, after apologizing in
rough and blunt sort of way for the trouble he
had given her, insisted her accepting five
guineas and agreeing to take further rsmuncra-
ton for whatever longer time his injuries might
compel him to continue inmate of her house.
This was the first time Mrs Evandale had had
a proper view of her lodger, and the opportunity
enabled her to perceive that he fine looking
man, of swarthy complexion, and having alto
gether the appearance ofone who had seen much
of the world and had been exposed to many
climes His age seemed to be about forty.
Six weeks after, the stranger was still an in
mate of Mrs. Evandale's. He was now rapidly
approaching entire convalcscence, although still
Z . u
During this period. degree Of intimacy had
taken place between him and Mrs. Evandale and
her daughter, which had placed them on com
paratiyely familiar footing with each other and
it was when this understanding had grown up be-
tween the parties that the stranger gave, for the
first time, something like a history of himself
His name-this, however, he had mentioned be-
fore-was Stanley, William Stanley. His profes-
sion the sea which he said he had followed since
he was boy. That, latterly, he had had the
command of large American ship, trading be-
tween Boston and Canton in China. That hav-
ing realized an independency in that employment
he had now come to his native country, from
which he had been absent for five and twenty
wears, to spend the remainder Of his days in the
quiet endowment of the fortune he had acqui
red.
He told, too, of the wondrous sights he had
seen and Othello-lil1e of the dangers he had pas
sed and another Desdemona won by the
stirring tales.
Margaret Evandale gazed on the manly form
Of the seaman and listened to his stories of saw
age lands, of wild adventure to his thrilling des-
criptions of the mighty tempests that career over
the face of the great deep, heaving the ponderous