Young Captain Jack | Page 8

boatman as there is in these parts, Marion. It was
kind, and he ought to be rewarded for it."
"Mamma will reward him, beyond a doubt."
The storm kept increasing in violence, and before the strange meal was

disposed of the thunder and lightning were almost incessant. Ben had
brought a candle along--knowing the darkness inside of the wreck--and
this was all the light they possessed, outside of what Nature afforded.
Ben was just putting the dishes back into the basket when there came
an extra heavy flash of lightning, followed immediately by a rending
clap of thunder which almost paralyzed Marion and Jack. There was a
strange smell in the air, and both found their blood tingling in a manner
that was new to them.
"The wreck--it's been struck by lightning!" gasped Jack, when he could
speak.
"Dat's a fac'!" came from Old Ben. "It was jess like de crack ob doom,
wasn't it?"
He ran on deck, and Jack followed him, with Marion on the bottom of
the companion way, not knowing whether to go up or remain below.
The bolt had struck the wreck near the stern, ripping off a large part of
the woodwork, and had passed along to one side. Just below the deck
line a lively fire was starting up.
"De wrack am gwine to be burnt up at las'!" ejaculated Old Ben. "We
has got to git out, Massah Jack!"
"Come, Marion!" called back the boy. "It's too bad we've got to go out
in the rain, but I reckon we can be thankful that our lives have been
spared."
"Yes, we can be thankful," answered the girl. "Oh, what a dreadful
crack that was! I do not believe I shall ever forget it."
She came on deck all in a tremble, and with the others hurried to the
bow of the wreck. It was much easier to climb down than to climb up,
and soon all three stood upon the rocks below, where the driving rain
pelted them mercilessly.

"I t'ink I can find yo' a bettah place dan dis to stay," said Old Ben.
"Come down to de shoah," and he led the way to where he had left his
boat. With Jack's assistance the craft was hauled out of the water and
turned upside down between two large rocks, and then the three
crawled under the temporary shelter.
Thus the night passed, and by morning the storm cleared away.
Looking toward the wreck they saw that only a small portion of the
upper deck had been burned away, the rain having put the fire out
before it gained great headway.
It did not take Old Ben and Jack long to launch the former's craft again,
and this done, they all entered and the fisherman started to row them to
the mainland. Jack's boat was taken in tow.
"That was certainly quite an adventure," observed Jack, as they landed.
"Marion, I reckon you don't want another such."
"No, indeed!" replied the girl, with a shiver. "I don't believe I'll ever go
over to the old wreck again."
"It's a wondah dat wreck aint busted up long ago," put in Old Ben.
"It's a wonder the poor people around here haven't carried off the
wreckage for firewood, Ben," said Jack.
"Da is afraid to do dat, Massah Jack--afraid some ob de sailors wot was
drowned might haunt 'em."
"I see. Well, I don't think the wreck will last much longer," and with
these words Jack turned away to follow Marion to the plantation
mansion, to interview his foster mother concerning the particulars of
the past. Little did the lad dream of what an important part that old
wreck was to play in his future life.
CHAPTER V.
OLD BEN HAS A VISITOR.

St. John Ruthven was a young man of twenty-five, tall, thin, and with a
face that was a mixture of craftiness and cowardice. He was the son of
a half-brother to the late Colonel Ruthven and could boast of but few of
the good traits of Marion's family. He lived on a plantation half a mile
from the bay and spent most of his time in attention to his personal
appearance and in horseback riding, of which, like many other
Southerners, he was passionately fond.
It was commonly supposed that St. John Ruthven was rich, but this was
not true. His father had left him a good plantation and some money in
the bank, but the young planter was a spendthrift and his mother, who
doted on her son, was little better, and soon nearly every dollar which
had been left by the husband and father had slipped through their
fingers. More than this, St. John took but little interest in the plantation,
which gradually ran down until it became almost worthless.
"St.