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.

The landlord had seen Captain Gildrock the day before when he came to Plattsburgh to look for the boy; and he supposed he had found him. He concluded that the skipper thought it necessary to take his boat to Burlington, and had therefore permitted the Sylph to go on without him.

He was surprised to see him when he came into the hotel.

The Sylph had merely come up to the wharf to land her pa.s.sengers, and Peppers had only told about the trick played upon him by Pearl. In fact, the captain had asked him and Moody not to mention the fact that his nephew had run away from him. It looked like an unpleasant family matter, and he did not care to have it talked about.

Dory was overwhelmed by the intelligence of the death of his father. It was some time before he recovered his self-possession, and then only when the landlord again reminded him that he might be late for the funeral. His good friend walked down to the wharf with him, carrying a basket of provisions he had ordered for him; but the skipper did not feel like eating now. He took the basket, and the Goldwing was soon standing down the bay.

Of course it was not possible for Dory to think of any thing but the death of his father as he sailed up the lake. He had no particulars of the sad event; but now it appeared that his uncle had been in search of him, and had taken great pains to find him. He regretted very much that he had avoided him, and he thought more of uncle Royal than ever before in his life. He had regarded him as a rich man, who was selfish, and who had neglected his sister, the boy's mother. He had not been in her house since she was married.

At eleven o'clock the Goldwing was off Colchester Light; and it was likely to take a couple of hours more to finish the trip. Dory had eaten his breakfast at five o'clock; and, if he was not hungry, he was faint, and felt the need of food. Mechanically he opened the basket the hotel-keeper had given him. It contained the choicest food from the table of the hotel; and he ate, though rather from a sense of duty than because he felt much interested in the operation. The lunch made him feel better, for it seemed to allay a sort of nervousness that troubled him.

He could not eat all the basket contained. The provision was wrapped up in a sheet of white paper, and then the parcel was enclosed in a newspaper. As he was restoring this last wrapper, something printed in the paper attracted his attention. The article was headed "Suicide of a Pilot."

Dory was almost paralyzed as he read the piece. He was obliged to stop to control his emotion several times before he could finish it. He learned that his father had drowned himself in the lake on Friday, and his body had been found and sent to Burlington on Sat.u.r.day morning.

For the first time he read of the disaster to the Au Sable. The particulars of that event were reviewed in the article. The steamer had run on the rocks while his father was at the wheel. The paper said that he was either intoxicated or asleep, or possibly both. It was very fortunate that no lives were lost, though several persons had been in great peril.

The pilot was ruined by the catastrophe. The owners of the boat suffered a heavy loss by allowing him to continue in their employ when his habits disqualified him for the responsible position he occupied on board.

Perry Dornwood, either from remorse, or the consciousness that he had ruined himself and his future prospects, had ended the life which had been so unproductive to himself and his little family.

It was some time before Dory recovered in a measure from the shock which the reading of this article gave him. He wept bitterly, and reproached himself because he had not been with his mother in the midst of her terrible affliction; but he consoled himself with the reflection that he had been at work for her.

He fastened his boat to a wharf on his arrival, and hastened to his home. He saw that the Sylph was at the next wharf, and, whatever Captain Gildrock had failed to do for his mother in the past, he was with her in her hour of affliction.

He threw himself into his mother's arms when he reached the house, and wept as he had never wept before. His mother mingled her tears and sobs with her son's. But violent grief usually vents itself, and relief comes. When the people gathered at the funeral, both Mrs. Dornwood and her son were calm. The minister spoke words of hope and comfort to them, and they followed the dead to his grave. Captain Gildrock supported his sister, and certainly no one could have been kinder or more considerate.

They went back to the desolate home. Little was said of the departed husband and father; but all that was said was of his good deeds, and his failings were not mentioned. The day wore away. The door of one state of existence seemed to close with that sad day, and with the next morning the family felt that they had entered upon a new era in their career.

Captain Gildrock slept on board of the Sylph, because there was no room for him in the poor abode of his sister.

"When your uncle told me that you ran away from him, I was afraid something terrible had happened to you, Dory," said his mother, after breakfast. "Why did you avoid him?"

"Because I never liked him. While you have almost suffered for the want of food, clothes, and a decent house, he has never done a thing for you.

You told me he had never been to see you since you were married. I always looked upon him as a hog," replied Dory with spirit.

"Your uncle Royal and your father could never agree. When I was married, my father and my brother were both opposed to it. They did not believe your father was able to take care of a family. They were right, though I will not speak ill of him who is gone. Your father forbid Royal from ever entering his house. But Royal has offered to help me a hundred times, but I was afraid to accept his aid on account of your father. Now he has offered me a home for myself and my two children in his own house," replied the widow, wiping the tears from her eyes. "He is a good brother."

Dory was both astonished and mortified.

CHAPTER XXIX.

CAPTAIN GILDROCK HAS DECIDED OBJECTIONS.

"Uncle Royal is a different sort of a man from what I thought he was, and I am sorry I kept out of the way when he was looking for me. But I hope, mother, that you don't mean to be dependent upon him or anybody else," said Dory.