CHAPTER XXVI.

PROUD OF BEING A YANKEE.

To explain the curious state of affairs disclosed in the last chapter, it is necessary to go a long way back in our story, and recall the New York jeweller who had shown Breeze that his locket could be opened, and had then tried to obtain it from him. This man had seen the advertisement asking for any information concerning Mr. Tristram Tresmont, or his son, and it had made such an impression upon him that he had studied it carefully. He had even looked up the Tresmont coat of arms in a book on heraldry, that contained colored plates of such things.

When Breeze brought the golden ball to him he was at first interested in it as a puzzle, and then startled at the sight of its contents. He hastily compared its coat of arms with the one in his book, and noted the little compass that it contained. So hurried was his examination, however, that he did not discover the second spring, and consequently knew nothing of the locks of hair or the inscription.

It had flashed across the mind of this bad man that if he could obtain possession of the ball, he might receive a reward for it, or perhaps use it in making a claim upon the Tresmont estate; for it had been mentioned in the advertisement as one of the proofs by which the missing child might be known. He did not tell Breeze of what he had discovered, for he hoped to make more out of his information in another way.

Failing to buy the trinket, he had tried to have it left with him at least overnight, that he might study it more carefully; but this plan was spoiled by the lad’s prompt action and the interference of the police. Then the jeweller procured a second labyrinth ball, and aided by the book on heraldry, fitted its interior with enamelled plates of thin gold bearing the Tresmont coat of arms. While doing this he planned a bold scheme, which he thought might be safely carried out, for obtaining at least a share of the Tresmont property.

This was nothing more nor less than the taking of his own boy, who was about the same age as Breeze, to England, and by means of the false locket persuading people to believe him to be the son of Mr. Tristram Tresmont. Having carefully worked out every detail of this wicked plan, the jeweller finally appeared with his son, whom he had trained to be as bad as himself, before the Tresmont family lawyer, and claimed to have discovered the true heir to Sir Wolfe’s property.

The lawyer listened to all that he had to say, and became almost convinced that he was telling the truth, but declined to commit himself to one thing or another until Lord Seabright, who was then in Iceland, should return. The false locket was even shown to a number of old Tresmont and Seabright family servants, who declared it to be the very same that had been clasped by Mr. Tristram about the neck of his infant son.

When Lord Seabright returned to London the whole case was submitted to him; and although he disliked exceedingly the appearance and manner of the young man who claimed to be his cousin, he could not help admitting that all the evidence seemed to be in his favor.

The wicked father had been recalled to America upon urgent business about a week before Lord Seabright’s return to the city; but his case seemed to be progressing so favorably that he had not hesitated to leave it for a short time in the hands of a lawyer whom he had engaged. He never dreamed that the Yankee fisher-lad would succeed in opening the ball; or that if he did he would understand the meaning of its contents, or realize their value.

Thus the case stood when Squire Brady introduced an entirely new feature into it by drawing Lord Seabright’s attention to Breeze McCloud and the locket that had been placed about his neck when he was a baby.

The young Englishman was as decided in his character and as prompt in action as Breeze himself. Now he determined to sift this matter to the very bottom, and to make a personal investigation of all the facts regarding it that could be discovered. Having rapidly thought out his plan, he said to Breeze, as they left the linen-draper’s shop together,

“Look here, McCloud, I like you a thousand times better than I do that other chap, and should be pleased to acknowledge you as a relative. I think, too, that your story is a much more likely one than his; but I am not yet wholly satisfied that you are my cousin Tristram. Now, I have a plan to propose, which is this: If you will stay quietly here in Queenstown with the Bradys for a few days, until I can attend to some business affairs in London, I will come back for you, and take you to America in the _Saga_. There we will see what we can discover in regard to your early history. In the mean time Mr. Marlin can sell your ambergris for you in London. What do you say?”

What could Breeze say to this generous offer except to thank his kind friend for it, and to accept it gladly?

Although expecting the return of the _Saga_ from day to day, and consequently not writing home, Breeze waited two weeks in Queenstown before Lord Seabright’s business would permit him to start for America.

When at last the yacht did arrive, Wolfe Brady, who had been disconsolate at the idea of again losing his dorymate, was made supremely happy by the offer of a mate’s position on her.

At the same time Breeze was astonished to learn that the ambergris he and Nimbus had picked up had been sold for fifty-six thousand dollars, which, when divided, according to Gloucester fishing law, among the crew of the _Fish-hawk_, would give them two thousand dollars apiece.

Ten days after leaving Queenstown, the _Saga_, having on board Lord Seabright, the dorymates Breeze McCloud and Wolfe Brady, and their highly prized friend Nimbus the cook, rounded Eastern Point, and steamed swiftly up Gloucester harbor.

It was late in the afternoon, and as Breeze eagerly turned his gaze towards the little white cottage on the eastern heights--that was the only home he had ever known--it was radiant with the glory of the setting sun, and seemed to be smiling a welcome to him. How the boy’s heart thrilled as he looked upon the familiar sights of the harbor, and thought of all that had happened to him since he had left it, an unwilling prisoner on board the _Vixen_. Why, there she lay now, at anchor in the stream, the same shabby, disreputable-looking old craft. And there, too, was the _Albatross_. What recollections the sight of her aroused in the minds of the dorymates!

The yacht had hardly dropped anchor before Breeze had been set ashore, and was climbing the hill towards the little cottage. He was alone, for his friends would not intrude upon his first meeting with those whom he loved so dearly.

Captain and Mrs. McCloud had just sat down to supper, when, without warning, the door was flung open, and their boy, alive, well, and handsomer than ever, stood before them.

So long as he lives Breeze will never forget his mother’s cry of “My boy! my boy! my darling boy!” as she sprang to him, clasped him in her arms, and sobbed out her great joy upon his neck.

There were even glad tears on Captain McCloud’s weather-beaten cheeks, as he held both the lad’s hands in his sturdy grasp and exclaimed, “Thank God, my son, that you have been brought in safety back to us.”

The happy inmates of the cottage got but little sleep that night, and the next day all Gloucester rang with the joyful news that Breeze McCloud, who had long since been given up for lost, had come back safe and sound, and bringing a fortune with him. Above all, it was whispered that he had come as dorymate of a real, live English lord, who had picked him up somewhere near the north pole, and brought him home in the finest steam-yacht that ever was seen.

Soon after breakfast that morning Lord Seabright and Wolfe Brady appeared at the McCloud cottage, and were warmly welcomed--the former for his great kindness to Breeze, the latter for himself. The English gentleman had asked both Breeze and Wolfe not to say anything at present regarding his errand to America. After a while he led the conversation to Breeze, the mystery surrounding his parentage, and his rescue from the floating cask when a baby.

Then Captain McCloud showed them the very cask that had proved so truly a life-boat to the boy. He told them the date of its discovery, and pointed out on its bottom a partially erased stencil-mark, over which he said he had often puzzled in vain. It was something like this, PE--IP--ÑORA, and although Lord Seabright did not say so at the time, he felt pretty sure that it had originally been “PER SHIP SEÑORA.”

Next, Mrs. McCloud brought out the baby-clothes Breeze had worn when first laid in her arms, and on one dainty little garment showed them the embroidered letters “T. C. T.”

After a while they all went on board the _Saga_, where her owner had invited them to luncheon. Here the unbounded joy of Nimbus at again meeting with the “cap’n,” in whose company he had suffered so much on board the _Esmeralda_, was touching to witness.

After luncheon, as they stood on the deck of the yacht, a weather-beaten fishing schooner, with her flag at half-mast, came sailing slowly up the harbor.

“She is bringing sorrow to some poor souls,” said Mrs. McCloud, as she noted the mournful sign.

“Why, mother, it’s the _Fish-hawk!_” shouted Breeze, springing up in great excitement.

In a short time the vessel had approached so closely that there could be no doubt of it. She was the very schooner that he had left so long ago off the coast of Iceland. At length she drew so near that they could distinguish the features of those on her deck.

Suddenly one of them shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly at the yacht. Then, with a joyful cry, he sprang to the signal-halyards, and in a moment the schooner’s colors streamed out full and free from her mast-head, while a wild cheer broke from her crew.

“Hurrah for Breeze McCloud! Hurrah for Nimbus!” they shouted over and over again.

“The flag was at half-mast for us, mother,” said Breeze, his voice choking with emotion. At the same moment the deep-mouthed roar of the yacht’s cannon answered the cheers of the _Fish-hawk’s_ crew.

They, poor fellows, had had little enough cause for joy, for their whole weary cruise had been nearly barren of results, and they had come home poorer than when they left. Their sadness was, however, exchanged for great rejoicing, and their poverty for riches, when they heard of the good-fortune of Breeze and Nimbus, and knew that, owing to it, their schooner was “High-line” of the fleet for that season, and that they were worth two thousand dollars apiece.

As soon as his anchor was dropped, Captain Coffin went on board the yacht to see Breeze, and to hear the wonderful story he had to tell. Then Breeze went back with him to the _Fish-hawk_, to be the bearer of his own good news to her crew, who shouted themselves hoarse in greeting him. Never was there a happier home-coming to any schooner of the Gloucester fishing fleet.

Of all those men who had just sailed down from the icy northern seas, none was so overjoyed at the sight of Breeze as old Mateo. He regarded the lad as his boy, and had been inconsolable over his loss. Now his happiness was so great that he could not control himself. He sobbed and laughed in the same breath, as he exclaimed, “Ah, Breeza, ma boy! ma boy! You is come back, an’ ole Mateo could sing an’ dance an’ holler, he vas so hap.”

It was a day of joyful meetings, and one long to be remembered. The skipper of the _Vixen_ came to welcome Breeze, and to tell him that a hundred dollars had been placed to his credit, as his share of that schooner’s catch on the Grand Bank. Hank Hoffer came; and many another, who had felt a diffidence about venturing on board the English lord’s yacht, rowed out to the _Fish-hawk_ to greet him there. Was it not worth all that he had gone through to be thus welcomed home? Breeze thought it was, and as much more.

The next day the _Saga_ sailed away, leaving Breeze behind, and it was a week before she returned. The first notice the McClouds had of her coming back was the appearance of Lord Seabright at their cottage late one evening.

He greeted Mrs. McCloud and the captain, and then, turning to Breeze with out-stretched hand, he said, “Cousin Tristram, I am proud to welcome you as a relative, and as master of Tresmont. How soon will you go back to England with me?”

Before Breeze could answer, Lord Seabright turned to the others, and told them the whole story. He ended it by stating that he had discovered the rascally jeweller in New York, and compelled him to own up to his villany and admit the falsity of his claim upon Tresmont.

“Now,” he said, “I want to take Cousin Tristram home with me, and place him where he may become fitted to take charge of the great English estate that will be his as soon as he comes of age.”

“But I don’t want to become an Englishman!” exclaimed Breeze, now finding a chance to speak. “I am an American by birth, I have grown up as an American, and an American I mean to be, just so long as I live. Oh, sir! if you are truly my cousin, as you say you are, I would a thousand times rather you would keep whatever English property might be mine, and leave me here to live with those whom I love and who love me.”

No entreaties nor inducements in the shape of the brilliant career open to him in England could alter his determination. He said that while he should be proud to be an Englishman if he had been born in England, having been born in Yankee land, he was more proud than anything of being a Yankee, and that he would not exchange that title for any other in the world.

Finally Lord Seabright, who had always been anxious to possess the Tresmont property, which adjoined his own, said,

“Well, Cousin Tristram, I do not know but that you are right. A man can have but one country, and the one he will always love the most is the one in which he was born and has passed the first twenty years of his life. Such being my belief, I will make you this offer: I will purchase Tresmont of you, if you are willing to sell it, when you become of age, paying you its full money value. Besides this, you will have a handsome income from the invested property left by your grandfather. The only conditions that I attach to my offer are that in the mean time you will complete your education in the best American university, and that you will spend every summer vacation for the next three years with me in England.”

“It’s a bargain, sir,” cried Breeze, “provided I can have money enough now to pay Wolfe Brady’s expenses through college as well as my own.”

“My dear fellow,” replied Lord Seabright, “there is money enough already held in trust for you from Tresmont to pay the expenses of every boy in this town through college, and you would be welcome to as much more if you wanted it.”

Here, with a parting word, we must leave the manly young fellows whose adventures on the Fishing Banks we have followed so closely. Breeze--or “Sir Breeze,” as his college friends delight to call him--and Wolfe are no longer dorymates, but classmates. The former means to study law, and says that, though he had an English father, his mother was an American, and as he was born in America, he may some day be President of the United States. Who knows?

Wolfe says that although, having been born an Irishman, he can never be the head of the nation, he would like to be Secretary of the Navy. He begs that his friend will bear this in mind when he becomes President, and Breeze gravely says he will.

Wolfe does not like to study, but Breeze keeps him up to it, while he keeps Breeze from studying too hard.

With a portion of the wealth that is soon to become his, Breeze expects to build a steam-yacht which shall be the equal, in every respect, of the _Saga_. Her name is to be _Merab_, and her private signal a blue flag bearing a golden ball, while on her bows, in letters of gold, is to be engraved the legend, “Point True.”

THE END.

Transcriber’s Note

Errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected, and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the original. The following issues should be noted, along with the resolutions.

117.16 and make a start.[”] Added.

140.24 ten or twelve knots [an hour] _sic_: redundant.

179.17 [“]We had better make a drogue Removed.

204.4 [“]Where you' ship, eh?” Removed.

243.24 disappearance of her boy.[”] Removed.

282.18 to preparing and naming[.] Added.