The Belted Seas

The Belted Seas

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Belted Seas, by Arthur Colton
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Title: The Belted Seas
Author: Arthur Colton
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BELTED SEAS ***

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THE BELTED SEAS
BY
ARTHUR COLTON

Cold are the feet and forehead of the earth, Temperate his bosom and
his knees, But huge and hot the midriff of his girth, Where heaves the
laughter of the belted seas, Where rolls the heavy thunder of his mirth
Around the still unstirred Hesperides.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
PEMBERTON'S.
II. THE "HEBE MAITLAND."

III. THE HOTEL HELEN MAR.
IV. SADLER IN PORTATE.
V. END OF THE HOTEL HELEN MAR.
VI. TORRE ANANIAS. WHY CAPTAIN BUCKINGHAM DID NOT
GO BACK TO GREENOUGH
VII. LIEBCHEN AND THE EWIGWEIBLICHE. THE LOSS OF THE
"ANACONDA".
VIII. SADLER IN SALERATUS. THE GREEN DRAGON PAGODA.
IX. KING JULIUS.
X. THE KIYI PROPOSITION. SADLER CONCLUDED.
XI. THE VOYAGE OF THE "VOODOO".
XII. THE FLANNAGAN AND IMPERIAL.
XIII. FLANNAGAN AND STEVEY TODD. CAPTAIN
BUCKINGHAM RETURNS TO GREENOUGH.
XIV. CAPTAIN BUCKINGHAM VISITS THE CEMETERY IN
ADRIAN. ANDREW AND MADGE MCCULLOCH AND BILLY
CORLISS. CAPTAIN BUCKINGHAM'S NARRATIVE ENDS.
XV. THE CONCLUSION OF THE WHOLE.

THE BELTED SEAS
CHAPTER I.
PEMBERTON'S.

The clock struck one. It was the tall standing clock in the front room of
Pemberton's Hotel, and Pemberton's stands by the highway that runs by
the coast of Long Island Sound. It is near the western edge of the
village of Greenough, the gilt cupola of whose eminent steeple is noted
by far-passing ships. On the beach are flimsy summer cottages, and
hard beside them is the old harbour, guarded by its stone pier. Whalers
and merchantmen used to tie up there a hundred years ago, where now
only fishing boats come. The village lies back from the shore, and has
three divisions, Newport Street, the Green, and the West End; of which
the first is a broad street with double roads, and there are the post office
and the stores; the second boasts of its gilt-cupolaed church; the third
has the two distinctions of the cemetery and Pemberton's.
The hotel is not so far from the beach but you can sit in the front room
and hear the surf. It was a small hotel when I used to frequent it, and
was kept by Pemberton himself--gone, now, alas! with his venerable
dusty hair and red face, imperturbably amiable. He was no seaman.
Throughout his long life he had anchored to his own chimneyside,
which was a solid and steady chimney, whose red-brick complexion
resembled its owner's. His wife was dead, and he ran the hotel much
alone, except for the company of Uncle Abimelech, Captain
Buckingham, Stevey Todd, and such others as came and went, or
townsfolk who liked the anchorage. But the three I have named were
seamen, and I always found them by Pemberton's chimney. Abe
Dalrimple, or Uncle Abe, was near Pemberton's age, and had lived with
him for years; but Stevey Todd and Captain B. were younger, and, as I
gathered, they had been with Pemberton only for some months past, the
captain boarding, and Stevey Todd maybe boarding as well; I don't
know; but I know Stevey Todd did some of the cooking, and had been
a ship's cook the main part of his life. It seemed to me they acted like a
settled family among them anyway.
Captain Thomas Buckingham was a smallish man of fifty, with a
bronzed face, or you might say iron, with respect to its rusty colour,
and also it was dark and immobile. But now and then there would come
a glimmer and twist in his