The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1897-01-08
GHOST OF THE PENGUIN"
BY WILL LISENBEE.

For more than week the Penguin
had laid at anchor in the little haTbor
at Rastia. She was small schooner,
weathcr-beaten, lubberly craft. with
her yards splintered and one of her
maSts broken, yet she looked strongly
picturesque, standing with bare poles
against the flaming ,uEset sky, as !
allowed my little boat to drift before
the gentle breeze.
Aboard the craft there were no signs
of life visible, and | knew that Mug
gins must be ashore, filling himself
with rum, as was his custom when
Capt. Darke was absent.
My old friend, the captain. had been
beating about the Mediterranean with
his lubberly schooner for half score
of years, and so he might still have been
engaged, but for the arrival of 4 letter
at Bastia telling him of a newly-in-
herited fortune left him by an uncle
who had been living in Florence.
But upon receipt of the goods new he
was off at once, leaving his disabled
schooner in charge of Muggins, an old
sailor who was more honest than sober
As my boat drifted alongside the
Penguin L perceived n rope trailing
over the port side. and, making my lit
tie craft fast, drew myself upon deck.
| looked about me, but no one was
visible. 1t was evident that l was the
only soul aboard the Penguin.
! threw myself on camp-stool in the
shadow of the sail and fell to regard
ing the range of dark hills that rose
back of the romantic little city. Pres
emily | was interrupted by the sound of
oars, and few moments later Mug
gins tawny head appeared over the rail.
He started when he saw me, and was
about TO beat Il hasty retreat when my
voice stopped him.
Bless me. | thought you were 4
ghost. | did, by the powers!" he said,
seeming well pleased that his fears had
not been realized.
We'll. now, what the deuce is there
about me, Muggins, to make you think
me ii ghost?" | asked.
''Oh. it isn't that you look like a
ghost. Mr. Raymond he returned.
apologetically. But, you see, when
cove is looking to- see Il ghost, he's pret-
~ certain to take the first live thing his
eyes fall on for what he's looking for
''Then you were expecting to see
something of the supernatural kind?"
That's a fact. Mr.. Raymond, though
'taiu't often a cove is believed when he
tells such story. There's ghost on
this old hulk, or else I'm losing my eye
sight
And you really believe in such non
scnse?"
Il believe what / sees, that's ALL
What did you see?''
We'll, since you ask, / don't mind
telling YOU. You see, since Capt
Daric went away and the crew was dis
charged. the Penguin has been under
my care. and | have been sleeping
aboard tine vessel and SPEEDING most
Of my time here. Last night about two
o'clock | woke, thinking | heard some
thing moving near me. L was sleeping
in my cot on the deck, and as / looks
about me l sees woman, all in white,
moving like a specter right by the
hatchway While | was watching, il
seemed TO sink into the deck and disaI-
pear. I'm not the man to run from q
single night-prowlcr, but | fit quCcl-
like at this. and can't see how " omaI-
could he on the Penguin. Thinking she
might have descended the companion
ladder. | goes down with a lantern, but
Gr,lsenothing. Then | looks all over
the slip with the same result. | slept
no more that night, and though look
after the ship during the day. sham
sleep here again if know myself, call
it gilcst or what you will
With this he picked up lantern and
descended to his boat that lay along
side.
Then / shall spend the night here
and lay your ghost for you, said
you'll greatly obligc me if you will,
he returned. though I'll be bowed If
| think YOU succeed. Good evening,
Mr. Raymond. I'll drop alongside early
in the morning and see how you have
Jared. There's the key to my cabin,
he added. tossing the key upon the
deck you'll find pipes and plenty OF
tobacco and Il sip of rum in a decanter
if YOU look close. Now again good
night to you"
His oars dipped into the water, and
he was gone.
Dusk was already settling over the
water | took a seat oBth deck and LIT
{. cigar, and began running over IN my
mind some of the events that had be
fallen me since my arrival in Corsica
For more than three months l had
been staying in the romantic little
island, finding n restful charm IN ITS
quiet seciusion that was a pleasing con-
trast to the life | had been spending
for the past two years in the gay capital
of the restless and pleacure-loving
French.
One is not likely to expect to meet
with adventures of the thrilling kind
in the peaceful precincts of Bastia, yet
something bordering upon this had
come to my lot less than a,month be-
fore.
For the amateur artist the quaint lit
tie city will furnish many subjects for
the pencil and brush, and | had made
good my opportunities since my ar
rival.
The most priced among my collec-
tion was the portrait of Neda, the little
Corsican fruit-seller. There was some
thing fascinating in her very pose, and
, thu, dark beauty of her face had drawn
me to her as if by some subtle wltchery'
One evening. as | was strolling
through the streets, | heard cry oil
mortal terror come from the court OF a
ruined building where several poor
families had taken their abode. and en-