Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder by Oliver Optic (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📖
- Author: Oliver Optic
Book online «The Yacht Club; or, The Young Boat-Builder by Oliver Optic (chrome ebook reader .TXT) 📖». Author Oliver Optic
Though the boat-builder was a square young man, he could not help being somewhat embarrassed, for his sense of honor did not permit him to violate the confidence of any one.
"If it is a fair question, Don John, where did you get this bill?" asked the captain.
Donald thought it was hardly a fair question under the circumstances, and he made no answer, for he was thinking how he could get along without a lie, and still say nothing about Laud's connection with the bill, for that would expose Captain Shivernock.
"You don't answer me, Don John," added the nabob, mildly.[220]
"I don't like to tell," replied Donald.
"Why not?"
"I promised not to do so."
"You promised not to tell where you got this money?"
Poor Nellie was almost overwhelmed by these answers on the part of Donald, and her father began to have some painful doubts.
"I did, sir; that is, I promised not to tell if everything about the money was all right."
"If you don't tell where you got the money, how are you to know whether everything is all right or not?" demanded Captain Patterdale, in sharper tones than he had yet used.
"Well, I don't know," answered the boat-builder, not a little confused, and sadly troubled by the anxious expression on Miss Nellie's pretty face.
Perhaps her father, who understood human nature exceedingly well, had required her to remain in the library during this interview, for a purpose; but whether he did or not, Donald was really more concerned about her good opinion than he was about that of any other person in the world, unless it was his mother. He was con[221]scious that he was not making a good appearance; and under the sad gaze of those pretty eyes, he was determined to redeem himself.
"You ought not to make such promises, Don John," said the captain; and this time he spoke quite sternly.
"You have that bill, sir. Is there anything wrong about it?" asked Donald.
"Yes."
"Then my promise covers nothing. Laud Cavendish paid me that bill," added the boat-builder.
"Laud Cavendish!" exclaimed Nellie.
Her father shook his head, to intimate that she was to say nothing.
"Laud Cavendish gave you this bill?" repeated the captain.
"Yes, sir, and six more just like it; only the others were not mended. I paid Mr. Leach three of them, and here are the other four," said Donald, producing his wallet, and taking from it the four bills, which he had not returned to their hiding-place in the bureau.
Captain Patterdale examined them, and compared them with the two in his possession. They looked like the bills he had deposited in the tin[222] box, when Hasbrook paid him the thirteen hundred and fifty dollars and interest. Twelve of the bills which made up this sum were fifties, nearly new; the balance was in hundreds, and smaller notes, older, more discolored, and worn.
"Laud Cavendish paid you three hundred and fifty dollars, then?" continued the nabob.
"Yes, sir; just that. But what is there wrong about it?" asked Donald, trembling with emotion, when he realized what a scrape he had got into.
"Following your example, Don John, I shall for the present decline to answer," replied the captain. "If you don't know—"
"I don't!" protested Donald, earnestly.
"If you don't know, I thank God; and I congratulate you that you don't know."
"I haven't the least idea."
"Of course, if you don't wish to answer any question I may ask, you can decline to answer, as I do, Don John."
"I am entirely willing to answer any and every question that concerns me."
"As you please; but you can't be called upon to say anything that will criminate yourself."
"Criminate myself, sir!" exclaimed Donald, aghast. "I haven't done anything wrong."[223]
"I don't say that you have, Don John; more than that, I don't believe you have; but if you answer any question of mine, you must do it of your own free will and accord."
"I will, sir."
"For what did Laud Cavendish pay you three hundred and fifty dollars?"
"For the Juno," replied Donald, promptly.
"I did not know he owned the Juno."
"He said he did to-day; at least, he said he was going to change her name," added Nellie.
"The fact that I did not know it doesn't prove that it was not so. You sold the Juno to Laud, did you, Don John?"
"I did, sir."
"Did you own the Juno?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you buy her of Captain Shivernock?"
"No, sir; I did not buy her; he made me a present of her."
"A present!"
"Yes, sir; he got disgusted with her, and gave her to me. I could not afford to keep her, and sold her to Laud Cavendish."
"Gave her to you! That's very strange."[224]
"But Captain Shivernock is a very strange man."
"None will dispute that," replied Captain Patterdale, with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders. "That man throws away his property with utter recklessness; and I should not be surprised if he ended his life in the almshouse. I will not ask any explanation of the conduct of Captain Shivernock. Laud Cavendish is not a man of means. Did he tell you, Donald, where he got his money to buy a boat worth three hundred and fifty dollars?"
"He did, sir, and explained the matter so that I was satisfied; for I would not sell him the Juno till he convinced me that there was no hitch about the money."
"Well, where did he get it?"
"I don't feel at liberty to tell, sir; for he told me it was a great secret, which did not affect him, but another person. I inquired into the matter myself, and was satisfied it was all right."
"I am afraid you have been deceived, Don John; but I am convinced you have done no wrong yourself—at least, not intentionally. Secrets are dangerous; and when people wish you to conceal[225] anything, you may generally be sure there is something wrong somewhere, though it may look all right to you. I have no more questions to ask to-night, Don John; but I may wish to see you again in regard to this subject. I must see Mr. Laud Cavendish next."
Donald answers Questions. Page 225.
Donald declared that he was ready to give all the information in his power; and after a little chat with Nellie, he went home, with more on his mind than had troubled him before, since he could remember.[226]
CHAPTER XIII. MOONLIGHT ON THE JUNO.Donald felt that he was in hot water, in spite of the assurance of Captain Patterdale that he believed him innocent of all wrong, and he was sorry that he had made any bargains, conditional or otherwise, with Captain Shivernock or Laud Cavendish. The nabob would not tell him what was wrong, and he could not determine whether Laud or some other person had stolen the money. He went into the house on his return from the elegant mansion. His mother had gone to watch with a sick neighbor, though his sister Barbara was sewing in the front room.
Donald was troubled, not by a guilty conscience, but by the fear that he had innocently done wrong in concealing his relations with Captain Shivernock and with Laud Cavendish. Somehow the case looked different now from what it had before.[227] Laud had told where he got his money, and given a good reason, as it seemed to him at the time, for concealment; but why the strange man desired secrecy he was utterly unable to imagine. He almost wished he had told Captain Patterdale all about his meeting with Captain Shivernock on Long Island, and asked his advice. It was not too late to do so now. Donald was so uneasy that he could not sit in the house, and went out doors. He walked about the beach for a time, and then sat down in front of the shop to think the matter over again.
Suddenly, while he was meditating in the darkness, he saw the trunk lights of the Maud illuminated, as though there was a fire in her cabin. He did not wait to study the cause, but jumping into his skiff, he pushed off, and sculled with all his might towards the yacht. He was mad and desperate, for the Maud was on fire! He leaped on board, with the key of the brass padlock which secured the cabin door in his hand; but he had scarcely reached the deck before he saw a man on the wharf retreating from the vicinity of the yacht. Then he heard the flapping of a sail on the other side of the pier; but he could not spend an instant[228] in ascertaining who the person was. He opened the cabin door, and discovered on the floor a pile of shavings in flames. Fortunately there was a bucket in the standing-room, with which he dashed a quantity of water upon the fire, and quickly extinguished it. All was dark again; but to make sure, Donald threw another pail of water on the cabin floor, and then it was not possible for the fire to ignite again.
Although the deck had been swept clean before the launch, the side next to the wharf was littered with shavings, and a basket stood there, in which they had been brought on board, for it was still half full. Donald found that one of the trunk lights had been left unfastened, in the hurry and excitement of attending the festival at Mr. Rodman's house. Through the aperture the incendiary had stuffed the shavings, and dropped a card of lighted matches upon them, for he saw the remnants of it when he threw on the first water. Who had done this outrageous deed? Donald sprang upon the wharf as he recalled the shadowy form and the flapping sail he had seen. Leaping upon the pier, he rushed over to the other side, where he discovered a sail-boat slowly making her way, in the gentle breeze, out of the dock.[229]
Beyond a peradventure, the boat was the Juno. Her peculiar rig enabled him readily to identify her. Was Laud Cavendish in her, and was he wicked enough to commit such an act? Donald returned to the Maud to assure himself that there was no more fire in her. He was satisfied that the yacht was not injured, for he had extinguished the fire before the shavings were well kindled. He fastened the trunk lights securely, locked the cabin door, and taking possession of the basket, he embarked in his skiff again. Sculling out beyond the wharf, he looked for the Juno. The wind was so light she made but little headway, and was standing off shore with the breeze nearly aft. It was Laud's boat, but it might not be Laud in her. Why should the wretch attempt to burn the Maud?
Then the scene in Mr. Rodman's garden, when Laud had been invited to leave, came to his mind, and Donald began to understand the matter. While he was thinking about it, the moon came out from behind a cloud which had obscured it, and cast its soft light upon the quiet bay, silvering the ripples on its waters with a flood of beauty.
Donald glanced at the basket in the skiff, still half filled with shavings. It was Laud's basket,[230] beyond a doubt, for he had often seen it when the owner came down to the shore to embark in his boat. The initials of his father's name, "J. C.," were daubed upon the outside of it, for there is sometimes as much confusion in regard to the ownership of baskets as of umbrellas. Donald was full of excitement, and full of wrath; and as soon as he got the idea of the guilty party through his head, he sculled the skiff with all the vigor of a strong arm towards the Juno, easily overhauling her in a few moments. He was so excited that he dashed his skiff bang into the Juno, to the serious detriment of the white paint which covered her side.
"What are you about, Don John?" roared Laud Cavendish, who had seen the approaching skiff, but had not chosen to hail her.
"What are you about?" demanded Donald, answering the question with another, Yankee fashion, as he jammed his boat-hook into the side of the Juno, and drew the skiff up to the yacht, from which it had receded.
Taking the painter, he jumped on the forward deck of the Juno, with the boat-hook still in his hand.[231]
"What do you mean by smashing into me in that kind of style, and jabbing your boat-hook into the side of my boat?" cried Laud, as fiercely as he could pitch his tones, though there seemed to be a want of vim to them.
"What do you mean by setting the Maud afire?" demanded Donald. "That's
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