"Don't be alarmed, Marian; I shall be better soon," I replied, trying to change my position, for I was lying on one of my arms, and was very uncomfortable.

"Won't you untie him, Peter?" said my fair attendant, appealing to the black helmsman.

"Gorrificious! I'd like to do it first rate; but I da.s.sent," he answered, glancing at the form of Mr. Whippleton, who was snoring heavily under the influence of the frequent drams he had taken.

"Then I will," she added, resolutely.

"Don't do it, miss. Mr. Whippleton is uncommon ugly."

"I don't care how ugly he is. I am not afraid of him now. Where is your knife, Philip?"

"In my vest pocket," I replied, encouraged by a hope that the resolute girl might set me free.

"Mustn't do it, miss. Skipper told me to look out for the young gentleman. You mustn't do anything to make Mr. Whippleton angry with you; he'll treat you bad if you do. He was uncommon ugly this mornin', and kicked me three times in the ribs to wake me, and then cussed me like I wan't no account."

I suspected that Peter had been sleeping off the fumes of whiskey when this ungentle treatment was bestowed upon him. Marian put her hand into my vest pocket and took out my knife. She opened it, and was about to find the rope that bound me, when the helmsman again interfered.

"Can't let you do it. Very sorry, but I can't. It would cost me all the rest of the ribs in my body, and three on 'em's broke now."

"Will you let this young man be abused in this manner, you wretch?"

exclaimed Marian, whose gentle nature seemed to have a.s.sumed a new phase.

"I can't help it, miss; 'tain't my fault. Mr. Whippleton's very ugly this mornin'."

"You are a brute and a coward!" said she, reaching over me to the cords that bound my wrists.

"Gorrificious!" shouted the negro. "You mustn't do that."

Mr. Whippleton suddenly sprang to his feet, awakened by the cry of Peter. Rushing forward, he seized the arm of Marian, and dragged her away from me. As the negro had intimated, he certainly was uncommon ugly. His eyes were bloodshot, and his expression was savage.

"Let him alone," said he. "Let no one meddle with him."

"Mr. Whippleton, are you going to let him lie there in pain, with his hands tied behind him?"

"That's just what I am going to do," said he, taking a bottle of whiskey from under the seat, and pouring a quant.i.ty down his throat.

Perhaps he was afraid that his courage would fail him, if he were not again fortified by the fiend which had doubtless inspired the evil deed he had done to me.

"I can believe anything of you now, Mr. Whippleton," added Marian, courageously.

"Believe anything you please, Miss Collingsby. You will have all you want to do to think of yourself, without troubling your head about Phil. I have taught him to mind his own business, and I am going to repeat the lesson upon you. Go into the cabin!"

"Won't you release Philip--at least, untie his wrists?"

"No, I won't. Go into the cabin, and stay there. I don't mean to have you on deck."

He moved towards her, and she was compelled to retire to the cabin in order to escape further violence. I felt that I was alone then. My worst, and it seemed to me then my last, catastrophe had come. I regretted my blunder in going to sleep, and the future was dark and uncertain.

CHAPTER XXV.

IN WHICH PHIL SUFFERS MUCH PAIN, AND MARIAN IS VERY RESOLUTE.

After my catastrophe, the course of the yacht had been altered, and I found that she was now headed to the northward. As I raised my head to change my painful position, I saw the east coast of the lake, not half a mile distant. The breeze was very gentle, and it was a beautiful day.

The sun was shining brightly, and the ripple of the clear waters was musical; but I was not in a condition to enjoy the glories of the scene.

I was suffering with a severe pain in the head; but the defeat I had sustained troubled me much more. I wondered, now it was too late, that I had been so stupid as to go to sleep. I felt that I was as great a blockhead as my persecutor had accused me of being, and I forgave him for calling me one. I could not foresee the end of the adventure, or the disastrous results of my mistake. Mr. Whippleton had doubtless been fully alarmed by my statements in regard to his arrest. If he had really sold his yacht, he did not deem it prudent to visit St. Joseph in order to deliver it to the purchaser. He would not find it safe to land at any of the towns on the lake, and I was satisfied that he would make for some obscure port in Canada. He was a shrewd man, and would not incur any needless risk.

As nearly as I could calculate the distance, he would have to run four or five hundred miles to reach any point in Canada. The prospect was not pleasing: I was fond of sailing, but not under the present circ.u.mstances. The distance to be accomplished in such a boat would require three days with a favorable wind; and it might take ten. I did not believe Mr. Whippleton would be disposed to run at night, for the whiskey, which he now used without restraint, could be more safely enjoyed in port.

I hoped for some favorable circ.u.mstance which would turn the tide in my favor. This was all I could do, for, with my hands securely tied behind me, I was powerless. The skipper had renewed his devotions to the bottle as soon as he waked, and it was possible that the liquor might win the victory for me.

"Go and get us some breakfast, Peter," said Mr. Whippleton, after he had taken a second dram, as he took the helm from the cook.

"Yes, sir," replied Peter, as he went forward.

"I hope you are satisfied now, Phil," added Mr. Whippleton, turning to me with something like a chuckle, as though he had done a great thing.

"I am satisfied on one point," I replied.

"What's that?"

"That I was not mistaken in regard to your dealings with the firm."

"We won't discuss that question now," said he, with a sneer. "I have used you well; I have done everything for you; I have given you all the salary you asked, and given you a chance to get ahead."

"You have given me a chance to get a broken head," I replied, as he paused to think what other good thing he had done for me.

"That's your own fault. After all I had done for you, I have my reward in your ingrat.i.tude."

"Did you expect me to help you swindle the firm?" I demanded, indignantly.

"You are not in condition just now to use hard words, and I advise you to clap a stopper on that tongue of yours."

"If I say anything, I shall speak my mind. I know you now perfectly.

Last night I thought I might be mistaken about some things. Now I know that you have swindled your partner, and I am not surprised to find that you can handle a bludgeon as well as a pen."

"Better be civil, Phil," said he, biting his lip.

"I have nothing more to say. If you murder me, I shall feel that I have tried to do my duty."

"I don't intend to murder you."

"I have no doubt you will if the occasion seems to require it. I shall trust in G.o.d, and leave the crime with him."