The news-democrat. (Providence, R.I.) 1906-1909, 1906-06-11
-THE
SLAVE SQUADRON
A THRILLING TALE OF ADVENTURE
BY HARRY COLLINGwOOD


~ noneSl, honorable ana upright III your
dealings with others. Never let your
reputation in this respect be sullied by
so much as a breath. And bear this In
mind. my boy. IL is not sufficient that
you should be all this. you must also
seem II. that is 10 say you must Keep
yourself far beyond the reacn OF even the
barest suspicion.
And now there Is only one thing more
] wish 10 caution you against and that
Is vanity II is a failing which is only
too plainly perccptibe In most boys OF
your age. Like most Of your compeers
you think that having passed your l4th
birthday, you are now n man, and In
many points / notice that you have al
ready begun TO ape the ways OF men.
Don't do IT, Dick Manhood comes not
so early; and OF all disagreeable and OBJ
tectionable characters. save me, l pray
you. from boy who mistakes himself for
a man.
Now Dick my boy-my dear son--I
have said TO you all think even I'm the
slightest degree. necessary by way OF
caution and advice. can only affection
ately entreat you to remember and pom
der upon my words. and pray God TO lead
you TO n right understanding OF them
And now" he added. rising from his
seat. II think II Is time you were on the
move. Go and wish Eva good-by. and
then will drive you down TO the Hard
i see Edwards has brought round the
carriage
hurried away to the drawing room.
where l knew | should find my sister.
and. opening the door gently. announced
that / had come 20 say good by. The
dear girl upon hearing my voice, rose
up from the sofa in the cushion OF which
che had been hiding her tear-staned
face. and came with unsteady steps tow
ards me. Then. as / looked into her
eyes-heavy with the mental agony from
which she was suffering and which she
bravey strove TO hide for my sake-I
realized, for the first time In my life, all
the horror which turks In that dreadful
word Farewell" Meaning originally a
henedicton, II has become by usage the
word with which we cur ourselves asun-
der from all that is nearest and dearest
10 us; II is the signal for parting the
last word we address to our loved ones {;
the fatal spell al which they lingeringly
and unwilingly withdraw from our cling
ing embrace: the utterance at which the
hand clasp Of friendship or OF love is
loosed, and we are torn apart never per-
haps again TO meet until time shall be
no more.
My poor sister, II was pitiful TO wit
ness her intense distress. This was our
first parting Never before had we been
separated for more than an hour or two
at a time. and, there being only the two
Of us, our mutual affection had steadily
though imperceptibly grown and strength
ened from year TO year until now. when
20 say good by seemed like the rend-
ing Of our heart-strings asunder
II had 10 be said, however. and II was
said at last-God knows how for my
recollection Of our parting moments Is
nothing more than tina. OF n brief period
OF acute mental suffering-and then,
placing my half swoonmg sister upon the
couch and pressing a last lingering kiss
on her icy-cold lips. rushed from the
room and the house.
My father had already taken his seat
I'm the carriage: my luggage was piled
up on the front seat alongside the driver.
and nothing therefore remained but for
me TO jump in, slam 10 the door. and we
were off.
1t seemed equally impossible to my
father and 10 myself 10 utter n single
word during that short-though, In our
then condition OF acute mental tension.
all too long-drive 10 the Hard; we sat
therefore dumbly side 10y sids with our
hands clasped. until the carriage drew
up, when l sprang out, hastily hailed a
boatman. and then at once began with
feverish haste to drag my belongings off
the carriage down into the road. | had
still 10 say good-by 10 my father and |
felt that must shorten the time as much
as possible. that ten minutes more OF
such mental torture would drive me mad.
The boatman quickly shouldered my
chest. and. gathering UP the remainder
OF my belongings in his dsengaged hand,
discreetly trotted off to the wherry which
he unmoored and drew alongside the slip
way.
Then I turned TO my father. and with
the obtrusive lump IN my throat. by this
time grown so inconveniently large that
! could scarcely articulate. held out my
hand TO him.
Good by. father!" l stammered out
huskily.
"Geod by. Dick. my son. my own dear
boy!" he returned. not less affected than
myself. Good by! May God bless and
keep you and in His good time bring you
IN health and safety back to us! Amen"
A quick convulsive hand-clasp a last
hungry glance into the loving face and
the sorrow-dlmmed eyes which looked so
longingly down into mine, and with a
hardly y-suppressed cry of anguish / tore
myself away. staggered blindly down the
slipway. tumbled into the boat. and, as
gruffy as / could under the circumstances
ordered the boatman to put me on board
the Daphne.
CHAPTER III.
THE TRUTH ABOUT FITZ-JOHNBS.
Where are we going Tom?" / asked,
as the boa tman, an old chum of mine,
proceeded to step the boats mast. You
surely don't need the sail for a run half
way across the harbor?"
NO" he answered. mo I don't. But
we're bound out 20 Spthead. The Daphne
went out this mornin at daylight to take
I'm her powder, and 'spects she's got half
OF II slowed away by this time. Look
out for your head, Mr.. Dick, sir, we shall
Jibe In n minute
ducked my head Just in time TO save
my glazed hat from being knocked over
board by the jibing mainsail of the boat,
and then drew out my handkerchief and
waved another farewell to my father.
whose discriminating figure | could still
make out standing motionless on the
shore. with his hand shading his eyes
rs he watched the rapidly moving boat.
He waved back in answer. and then the
Intervening hull OF n ship hid him from
my view. and / saw him no more for
many long day