The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1906-10-11
(copyrisht. 1905. BY Joseph 3. Bowles

detail. This is Sir Henry Graden, Isaac
Treherne, and he is trying to capture the
wicked man in the Agnes Jane yonder
the man who, as l told you, tried to
kill me. Will you take him in the Pride
of Cornwall?
Isaac was a study of indecision. he
twisted up his mouth, scratched his head
regarded the sunset attentively. and
kicked pebble over the edge of the
quay.
Il du wish, miss, as l 'ad been nigh
you when e tried it," he said at last
Il would ave set about the hugly toad
proper, that | would. But, begin your
pardon, and seem he be got away
'twould seem a matter for the perlice
more'n for We uns. Moreover, there be
the fish contract, and the Pride is only
waiting her crew to zail.
1T means a hundred pounds in your
pocket, my man." snapped Graden.-
"A 'undred pounds is 'undred
pounds" replied Isaac with contentious
inconsequence.
But, Isaac" broke in Miss Weston,
when the story gets round to Marx
Pennyfold, he will say that you refused
because you knew that the Pride could
never catch the Agnes Jane"
80 he wull-the liardw cried Isaac,
with a sudden burst of Indignation. Il
never thought on that, miss. A pretty
tale he will be telling in every public
from Bude to Penzance! Come along,
gentlemen, come along. I'll show e a
thing, and Mark, tn, the liard!'
We ran to where the little trawler lay
moored to the quay, and tumbled on
board. One man was sittingin her stern
mending some tackle, and Isaac apparent
ly considered his services sufficient, Tor
he cast off the ropes at once. Miss Wes-
ton was waiting on the head of the quay
as our boat crept by. l shall always re-
member that picture of my darling as
she stood on those old grey stones, with
their seaweed beard dropping to the swirl
of the tide below The fire of the sunset
lit her tall, graceful figure leaning to
the breeze. One hand was to her hair,
the other waving adieu. No fairer figure
of encouragement could men desire who
started on a perilous adventure
"Good-bye! God keep you both!' So
she cried to us.
We shouted a reply, but / doubt IL she
heard it, for at that moment the wind
caught the great red sail on our fore
mast, swinging it across with thunder
Gus Tapping that shook the little vessel
from stem TO stern. In another moment
we were rushing forward in pursuit. with
the spray from the bows in our faces and
a white trail of foam marking our path
from the land
| do not think that more than zen
minutes had passed from the moment III
our arrival on the quay, though by my
writing it may seem that& have ander-
estimated the time. The Agnes Jane
was, as far as l could judge, about a
mile away to the southwark, distance
which we decreased to barely thous-
and yards before the full strength Of the
growing wind we brought had reached
her. After that, however, we gained
very slowly, If at all.
l was never a good sailor, fact which
the long rollers soon recalled TO my
remembrance. The occasional bursts Of
spray which flew over US added greatly
to my discomfort, for my clothes. though
warm, were not waterproof l have al
ways been susceptible of chills. and the
prospect of passing the night in dripping
garments seriously alarmed me. 1t was,
therefore, with sense of relief that
observed Isaac produce some oilskins,
and boots happily lined with flannel.
The seafaring appearance which / as
sumed did not, however, allay my in
ternal sufferings, which soon beca me
acute Huddled on the leeward side of
the boat, / watched the chase with an
appearance of interest which was mere
hypocrisy. To be sincere, / regarded my
cousin, who was enjoying a pipe of
strong-smelling tobacco on the windward
side of me, with a more immediate en-
nifty than felt towards Marnac himself.