Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1878-05-04
THE MAN IN ARMOR.

'S' VI hlGhGidllj luS lHSEdll9-
neous beaming forth of those wondrous
stars, 30 apparently near feeling that
earth and moon and stars are floating
together in lambent, all is new wonder.
full and beautiful.
such were my delirious emotions az |
arrived, after a wearisome voyage, in the
harbor of st. Thomas, in West Indies.
The town, with its many lights, always
a welcome sight to the traveller; the
hilltop, crowned with the buccaneers
tower; the light, graceful boats of the
negroes crowding round the ship; their
songs in the melancholy minor key, the
warm and tranquilatm0sphere altogether
carried me away into a land of revery
and dreams, ami pleasant languor and
indistinctness took possession of me.
An enchanting picture" said voice
behind me. 1t was my friend, the silent
Englishman, as we called him on board
You are familiar with this part of
the world ?" suggested.
Yes; these are romantic places.
have an estate in one of them. | come
down to see to it now and then. They
give the estates very queer names 'Dia.
mond and Ruby is one Of them, Pros
perity, Mary's Hope &C., &c. Mine is
called the Man in Armor'"
All! then yours has the queerest
name yet"
Yes, and the queelest story-a story
of crime, of misfortune, of retribution ;
a melodramatic story, for west Indian
lie is all meiodrama."
In the hustle of landing | lost my
friend and forgot him, his estate and his
story, until the next evening l met him
pacing the piazza of the hotel and smok-
ing his cigar. We joined company and
smoked together, lazily watching the
DegrCsses poisiDg their burdens on the
head, and walking under them with the
majesty of dark Cleopatras, chanting as
they walked, their wild melancholy
songs
BY the way" l remarked, "you
spoke of your estate last night and its
history as il it were no secret might
stranger ask to hear it, or is it of a
private nature"
" On by all means. Everybody knows
it. In its own island it is the favorite
after>dnner topic; and if you will take
passage with me on the little schooner
which tomorrow night will take me
over to the neighboring island, | Twill tell
it to you by the witching light Of these
stars"
| accepted with alacrity. The next
night (ior they do everything in the
night in the West lndies) we embarked
en- very crazy little schooner; and |
almost Eepented, when | saw our crew,
that a foolish desire to hear a story had
caused ME to intrust my precious self to
a csptain who whistled for the wind and
who seemed descended from some Afri
can Hecuba, and whose assistants we're
as black and weird as himself. However.
my friend seemed satisfied and tried
to be.
"You know" my friend began, "that
these planters generally send their sons
to England or the United States to be
educated, and you have probably some
West Indian boy in your memory VINO
was the brigand, the desperate Of your
class at school. Two boys of the true
type of ungoverned tropicals left this
island we are now approaching, many
years ago for England. They were
placed at school, and were endured for
the sake of their money, which was sup,
posed to be inexhaustiblC. Philip, the
eldest, was somewhat amenable to law
and order after a time but William, the
younger, put all authority at defiance,
and at length, in fit of passion, stabbed
one of the boys.
Before the young murderer could be
caught, he and his brother had effectuslly
escaped, and the only trace of them was
to n neighbOring seaport, where they
were supposed to have embarked for
home.
Meanwhile, the father, whom shall
call Vickars, received from England
intelligence of this transaction, but no
news Of his boys. His distress can better
be imagined than described. His wife,
a Spanish woman, died under the agony
of suspense. All that was lett to him
was one daughter, Annunciata, child
Of twelve years. He sent east and west
for his lost children, but no tidings came
Of them.
Gone other friend he had, who shared
bis watchings and his sorrows. This was
the good Father Pedro, the Catholic
priest, who spent his life in the humble
but unwearying care of his church and
his people, and whe dearly loved the
wife of Vickars, one of his most devout
children. He was one day sitting at a
window which commanded the sea, talk.
ing to the afflicted father, and offering to
60 himself in search of the lost boys,
when in the extreme distance he deserted
sail. A ship!' A shipl' How
anxiouSly was she watched ! How in.
tently they had scanned every sail Tor
monthsl How they sat with suspended
breath till she came nearer
SAT length, after many weary hours,
the ship reached the dock. On her deck
stood one boy. Only one. Yes, it was
he; it was William
Even in this hour of inexpressible
emotion arose the cry, Where is thy
brother?'
William told, with many tears and
sighs, a story of great length and great
interest. They had escaped to Madeira
thence had started for home had been
taken against their will TO Lisbon; had
been inhospitably put ashore, as their
money was gone; had retreated into the
interior; joined a party OF robbers, OF
been taken up by them, and Philip
having offended the chief, had been muir.
dered, or at least was dragged insensible
from his brothers sight, and William
tied and wounded, was carried in another
direction by the rObber troop.
Escaping at last, he reached the sea
found a ship bound for the West Indies
The captain, more hespitable than the
last, took him on board and restored him
to his father.
"Old Father Pedro was an attentive
listener to this story. He had never