The Wreckers of Sable Island

  Produced by Al Haines

  [Frontispiece: "So you're not dead after all, my hearty." _Page 37_]

  Title page]

  THE WRECKERS

  OF

  SABLE ISLAND

  BY

  J. MACDONALD OXLEY

  _Author of "Up Among the Ice-Floes," "Diamond Rock," &c._

  T. NELSON AND SONS

  _London, Edinburgh, and New York_

  1897

  CONTENTS.

  I. THE SETTING FORTH II. IN ROUGH WEATHER III. THE WRECK IV. ALONE AMONG STRANGERS V. ERIC LOOKS ABOUT HIM VI. BEN HARDEN VII. A SABLE ISLAND WINTER VIII. ANXIOUS TIMES IX. FAREWELL TO SABLE ISLAND X. RELEASE AND RETRIBUTION

  THE WRECKERS OF SABLE ISLAND.

  CHAPTER I.

  THE SETTING FORTH.

  A voyage across the Atlantic Ocean in the year 1799 was not theevery-day affair that it has come to be at the present time. Therewere no "ocean greyhounds" then. The passage was a long and trying onein the clumsy craft of those days, and people looked upon it as a moreserious affair than they now do on a tour round the world.

  In the year 1799 few people thought of travelling for mere pleasure.North, south, east, and west, the men went on missions of discovery, ofconquest, or of commerce; but the women and children abode at home,save, of course, when they ventured out to seek new homes in that newworld which was drawing so many to its shores.

  It was therefore not to be wondered at that the notion of Eric Copelandgoing out to his father in far-away Nova Scotia should form the subjectof more than one family council at Oakdene Manor, the beautiful countryseat of the Copeland family, situated in one of the prettiest parts ofWarwickshire.

  Eric was the only son of Doctor Copeland, surgeon-in-chief of theSeventh Fusiliers, the favourite regiment of the Duke of Kent, thefather of Queen Victoria. This regiment formed part of the garrison atHalifax, then under the command of the royal duke himself; and thedoctor had written to say that if the squire, Eric's grandfather,approved, he would like Eric to come out to him, as his term of servicehad been extended three years beyond what he expected, and he wanted tohave his boy with him. At the same time, he left the matter entirelyin the squire's hands for him to decide.

  So far as the old gentleman was concerned, he decided at once.

  "Send the boy out there to that wild place, and have him scalped by anIndian or gobbled by a bear before he's there a month? Not a bit ofit. I won't hear of it. He's a hundred times better off here."

  The squire, be it observed, held very vague notions about Nova Scotia,and indeed the American continent generally, in spite of his son'sendeavours to enlighten him. He still firmly believed that there wereas many wigwams as houses in New York, and that Indians in fullwar-paint and plumes were every day seen on the streets ofPhiladelphia; while as for poor little Nova Scotia, it was more thanhis mind could take in how the Duke of Kent could ever bring himself tospend a week in such an outlandish place, not to speak of a number ofyears.

  So soon as Eric learned of his father's request, he was not less quickin coming to a conclusion, but it was of a precisely opposite kind tothe squire's. He was what the Irish would call "a broth of a boy."Fifteen last birthday, five feet six inches in height, broad ofshoulder and stout of limb, yet perfectly proportioned, as nimble onhis feet as a squirrel, and as quick of eye as a king-bird, entirelyfree from any trace of nervousness or timidity, good-looking in thatsense of the word which means more than merely handsome, courteous inhis manners, and quite up to the mark in his books, Eric representedthe best type of the British boy as he looked about him with his bravebrown eyes, and longed to be something more than simply a school-boy,and to see a little of that great world up and down which his fatherhad been travelling ever since he could remember.

  "Of course I want to go to father," said he, promptly and decidedly."I don't believe there are any bears or Indians at Halifax; and even ifthere should be, I don't care. I'm not afraid of them."

  He had not the look of a boy that could be easily frightened, or turnedaside from anything upon which he had set his heart, and the old squirefelt as though he were seeing a youthful reflection of himself in thesturdy spirit of resolution shown by his grandson.

  "But, Eric, lad," he began to argue, "whether the Indians and bears areplentiful or not, I don't see why you want to leave Oakdene, and goaway out to a wild place that is only fit for soldiers. You're quitehappy with us here, aren't you?" And the old gentleman's face took onrather a reproachful expression as he put the question.

  Eric's face flushed crimson, and crossing over to where the squire sat,he bent down and kissed his wrinkled forehead tenderly.

  "I am quite happy, grandpa. You and grandma do so much for me that itwould be strange if I wasn't. But you know I have been more with youthan I have with my own father; and now when he wants me to go out tohim, I want to go too. You can't blame me, can you?"

  What Eric said was true enough. The doctor's regiment had somehow comein for more than its share of foreign service. It had carried itscolours with credit over the burning plains of India, upon thebattle-fields of the Continent, and then, crossing to America, hadtaken its part, however ineffectually, in the struggle which ended sohappily in the birth of a new nation. During all of his years Eric hadremained at Oakdene, seeing nothing of his father save when he came tothem on leave for a few months at a time.

  These home-comings of the doctor were the great events in Eric's life.Nothing was allowed to interfere with his enjoyment of his father'ssociety. All studies were laid aside, and one day of happinessfollowed another, as together they rode to hounds, whipped thetrout-streams, shot over the coverts where pheasants were in plenty, orwent on delightful excursions to lovely places round about theneighbourhood.

  Dr. Copeland enjoyed his release from the routine of military dutyquite as much as Eric did his freedom from school, and it would nothave been easy to say which of the two went in more heartily for a goodtime.

  It was just a year since the doctor had last been home on leave, and ayear seems a very long time to a boy of fifteen, so that when theletter came proposing that Eric should go out to his father (it shouldhave been told before that his mother was dead, having been taken awayfrom him when he was a very little fellow), and spend three long yearswith him without a break, if the doctor had been in Kamtchatka orTierra del Fuego instead of simply in Nova Scotia, Eric would not havehesitated a moment, but have jumped at the offer.

  The old squire was very loath to part with his grandson, and it wasbecause he knew it would be so that the doctor had not positively askedfor Eric to be sent out, but had left the question to be decided by thesquire.

  Perhaps Eric might have failed to carry his point but for the helpgiven him by Major Maunsell, a brother-officer of Doctor Copeland's,who had been home on leave, and in whose charge Eric was to be placedif it was decided to let him go.

  The major had come to spend a day or two at Oakdene a little whilebefore taking his leave of England, and of course the question ofEric's returning to Nova Scotia with him came up for discussion. Ericpleaded his case very earnestly.

  "Now please listen to me a moment," said he, taking advantage of apause in the conversation. "I love you, grandpa and grandma, verydearly, and am very happy with you here; but I love my father too, andI never see him, except just for a little while, when he comes home onleave, and it would be lovely to be with him all the time for threewhole years. Besides that, I do want to see America, and this is sucha good chance. I am nearly sixteen now, and by the time father getsback I'll have to be going to college, and then, you know, he says he'sgoing to leave the army and settle down here, so that dear knows when Ican ev
er get the chance to go again. Oh! please let me go, grandpa,won't you?"

  Major Maunsell's eyes glistened as he looked at Eric and listened tohim. He was an old bachelor himself, and he could not help envyingDoctor Copeland for his handsome, manly son. At once he entered intofull sympathy with him in his great desire, and determined to use allhis influence in supporting him.

  "There's a great deal of sense in what the boy says," he remarked. "Itis such a chance as he may not get again in a hurry. There's nothingto harm him out in Halifax; and his father is longing to have him, forhe's always talking to me about him, and reading me bits out of hisletters."

  So the end of it was that the major and Eric between them won the day,and after taking the night to think over it, the good old squireannounced the next morning at breakfast that he would make no furtherobjections, and that Eric might go.

  The troop-ship in which Major Maunsell was going would sail in a week,so there was no time to be lost in getting Eric ready for the voyage,and for the long sojourn in the distant colony. Many were the trunksof clothing, books, and other things that had to be packed withgreatest care, and their number would have been doubled if the majorhad not protested against taking the jams, jellies, pickles, medicines,and other domestic comforts that the loving old couple wanted Eric totake with him, because they felt sure he could get nothing so good outin Halifax.

  All too quickly for them the day came when they were to say good-bye totheir grandson, and the parting was a very tearful and trying one.Full of joy as Eric felt, he could not keep back the tears when hiswhite-haired grandmother hugged him again and again to her heart,exclaiming fervently,--

  "God bless and keep my boy! May his almighty arms be underneath andround about you, my darling. Put your trust in him, Eric, no matterwhat may happen."

  And the bluff old squire himself was suspiciously moist about the eyesas the carriage drove away and Eric was really off to Chatham in chargeof Major Maunsell, with whom he had by this time got to be on the bestof terms.

  At Chatham they found their ship in the final stage of preparation forthe voyage. They were to sail in the _Francis_, a fine, fast gun-brigof about three hundred tons, which had in her hold a very valuablecargo, consisting of the Duke of Kent's library, together with aquantity of very costly furniture, precious wines, and other luxuriesintended to make as comfortable as possible the lot of his royalhighness in the garrison at Halifax. The major and Eric were assigneda roomy cabin to themselves, in which they at once proceeded to makethemselves at home.

  During the few days that intervened before the sailing of the_Francis_, Eric's enjoyment of the novel scenes around him could hardlybe put into words. All he knew about the sea was what he had learnedfrom a summer now and then at a watering-place; and the great gatheringof big ships at Chatham; the unceasing bustle as some came in from longvoyages and others went forth to take their places upon distantstations; the countless sailors and dock-hands swarming like antshither and thither; the important-looking officers strutting about ingold-laced coats, and calling out their commands in such hoarse tonesthat Eric felt tempted to ask if they all had very bad colds; theshrill sound of the boatswains' whistles that seemed to have noparticular meaning; the martial music of bands playing apparently forno other reason than just because they wanted to,--all this made up awonder-world for Eric in which he found a great deal of delight.

  There was just one cloud upon his happiness. Among his many pets atOakdene his special favourite was a splendid mastiff that the squirehad given him as a birthday present two years before. Prince was asuperb animal, and devoted to his young master. No sooner had it beensettled that Eric should go out to his father than the boy at onceasked if his dog might not go with him. Major Maunsell had noobjection himself, but feared that the captain of the _Francis_ wouldnot hear of it. However, he thought that Eric might bring the dog upto Chatham, and then if the captain would not let him on board he couldbe sent back to Oakdene.

  Prince accordingly accompanied him, and a place having been found forhim with a friend of the major's, his master had no peace of mind untilthe question was settled. Some days passed before he got a chance tosee Captain Reefwell, who was, of course, extremely busy; but at lasthe managed to catch him one day just after lunch, when he seemed in apretty good humour, and without wasting time preferred his request,trembling with eager hope as he did so. The gruff old sailor at firstbluntly refused him; but Eric bravely returning to the charge, his kindheart was moved to the extent of making him say,--

  "Well, let me have a look at your dog, anyway."

  Hoping for the best, Eric ran off and returned with Prince. CaptainReefwell scanned the noble animal critically, and stretched out hishand to pat him, whereupon the mastiff gravely lifted his right paw andplaced it in the captain's horny palm.

  "Shiver my timbers! but the dog's got good manners," said the captainin surprise. "Did you teach him that?" turning to Eric.

  "Yes, sir," replied Eric proudly; "and he can do other things too."And he proceeded to put the big dog through a number of tricks whichpleased the old sailor so much that finally he said, with a smile,--

  "All right, my lad. You may bring your dog on board. But, mind you,he comes before the mast. He's not a cabin passenger."

  "Oh, thank you, sir! thank you, sir!" cried Eric joyfully.--"I won'tlet you in the cabin, will I, Prince? Isn't it splendid? You're tocome with me after all." And he hugged the mastiff as though he hadbeen his own brother.