Part 32 (1/2)

He hoisted the sails; and, getting in the anchor, he shoved the schooner off the beach. Going to the northward of the island, he found that he could just lay his course to the Gut. As the sun rose higher, the wind freshened; and he had an eight-knot breeze all the forenoon. His return was without incident; and as the first bells were ringing for church, he landed at Plattsburgh.

He reported to the landlord at the Witherill House. He thought this gentleman looked very serious, when he expected to be greeted as a successful skipper after his cruise. He had no doubt Peppers had arrived with his prisoner, and the story of his trip must be known. The first thing the hotel-keeper did was to hand him a ten-dollar bill, as his reward for the capture of Pearl Hawlinshed.

”You have earned your money, Dory; and there it is,” said the landlord, as he handed him the bill.

”I suppose Mr. Peppers has arrived,” added Dory, as he put the money in his wallet.

”Yes: he got back about half-past seven this morning. You had a rough time of it with Hawlinshed.”

”Yes, sir: he got the bulge on us at one time,” answered Dory, laughing as he thought of the exciting scenes of the day before.

But the landlord did not laugh, as he had always done before. He looked very serious; and the skipper wondered if he had been charged with any other crime, his friend looked so coldly upon him. The landlord pulled out his watch, and then shook his head.

”Have you been to breakfast, Dory?” he asked.

”Yes, sir: I had some ham and hard-bread.”

”I should ask you in to breakfast; but I am afraid you ought not to stay here any longer,” added the hotel-keeper. ”It is nine o'clock now, and you will be late.”

”Late? Late for what?” asked Dory, astonished at this remark, which he could not comprehend.

”Late for the funeral,” replied the landlord in a subdued and gentle tone.

”The funeral? What funeral?” asked Dory, with his heart in his throat.

The landlord looked at him in silence for a moment, and appeared to be greatly surprised.

”Didn't you know there was to be a funeral in Burlington this afternoon, Dory?” inquired the landlord, almost holding his breath.

”I didn't know any thing about a funeral,” answered Dory, trembling with emotion.

”You haven't heard the news? Didn't you know that one of your family was”--And the hotel-keeper paused, afraid of the effect of the sudden imparting of the information to the boy.

”My mother isn't dead, is she?” gasped Dory, clinging to the office-counter for support.

”No, she is not. But another member of your family is to be buried to-day,” added the landlord.

”Is it my sister Marian?” groaned Dory.

”No, Dory: it is your father.”

The young skipper staggered to a chair, and dropped into it. The landlord hastened to him. His father was dead. Though it was known in Plattsburgh, and had been for three days, that the Au Sable steamer, while in charge of Perry Dornwood, the a.s.sistant pilot, had been run over a point of rocks, and wrecked, Dory had not heard of it. Some who could have told him the news did not care to hurt his feelings; others did not know he was the son of the pilot; and many heard of the event, and forgot it the next minute.

”My father dead!” groaned Dory. ”And I did not even know that he was sick!”

The landlord did not care to give him the whole of the sad particulars.

He was silent, thinking that some friend of the family could discharge this painful duty better than he could.

”That is what my uncle Royal wanted of me, and I have been running away from him,” added Dory.