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VDICKI HARTWELL’S FORTUNE.
ONE Saturday evening in summer Dick Hart-
well sauntercd down to the quay when the
tide was high, and a faint breeze was blowing
seaward. A big schooner, painted white, had
finished unloading her cargo of red pine from
the forests of Norway and Sweden, and was to
set sail that very evening for Copenhagen.
The quay was quiet just then; a calm light
enfolded the low green hills and even glorified
the shabby buildings on the edge of the water.
Dick enjoyed the hriny coolness here and liked
A young woman was sitting on a piece of
timber, holding the hand of a restless little
boy of four or five. Dick noted, with the
natural interest that he felt in all young
women, a certain air of distinction about her
face and figure. She was very plainly dressed,
and her simple gown looked as if it iad been
made at home. Her eyes were dark; the
hair coiled up under her hat was nearly black ;
he thought she did not seem quite English.
Glancing at her again, he came to the con-
clusion that she had been crying.
At that moment she put her hand into her
pocket and drew out a handkerchief. The
movement left the ho ' free. He gave a
gurgle of fun, snatche up a little satchel
which had been lying in her lap, and made off
with it to the edge ofthe quay.
“ Come here, John,” she ca led distractedly;
but the child only laughed and ran faster.
She rose to follow, and Dick, seeing that there
was real danger, sprang forward and overtook
the boy before he reached the brink. He
seized the young rascal by the shoulder, and
then there was a vigorous tussle. John
evidentlyresented the interference ofa stranger.
He kicked out like: Shetland pony and roared
with the full force of healthy lungs, but this
was not all. In a frenzy of rage he flung the
satchel away as far as he could, and it dropped
with :1 smal splash into the sea.
The young woman gave a cry which went
to the very depths of Dick‘s heart.
“I’d better have let him alone," he said
“ I think you had,’? sighed the girl. “ Ever
since his father died he has been like this!
Do you know what you have done, John?”
she added. “All aunty’s money was in that
bag. She was taking it home to poor
The boy had left off‘ screaming. He looked
up at her with a pairyof wide blue eyes, and
his round face lengthened visibly.
“ Didn’t mean to do it,” he quavered with
trembling lips. “ Bad man made me.”
“ “’hy, if it hadn’t been for me you'd have
gone over along with the bag! " said Dick
with very natural indignation. “It's to be
hoped you’ll take :1 turn for the better when
you growgnp. There's a great deal in store
for those you belong to, I'm afraid.”
“ Please don't say that,” cntrcated the girl,
witha. faint touch ofresentmcnt in her manner.
““'e have had trouble enough. Besides, :1
naughty child often makes a good man, and
John was only four last birthday."
“Only four last biiflday," said John in
eagercorroboration. “ Very solly, aunty. Is
all the money gone 9 ” . . .
“All gone,” she answered, trying to hide
her (cars, “I don't know what I shall say
to your poor mother, John. It seems too bail
to be true."
“How much was it ? " Dick suddenly
Bi’ SARAH DOUDXEY.
“Five sovereigns and about ten shillings in
silver.” The girl seemed to answer involun-
tarily. “ “'e have been to see my brother;
he is gone to the East to join an uncle of
ours, and he gave me all that he could spare-
just five pounds. My sister has been very ill,
and she owes a little money. It will be paid
by-and-by when I have had time to save, but
I don’t like to keep people waiting.”
“Have you any work to do?" inquired
“Yes; I teach English in Copenhagen.
My sister's husband was clerk in a merchant's
ofhce there, and after his death we stayed on.
She has two children, this boy, and a little
girl. It was her illness which made us get
into debt; for two months she could not do
anything, and wlicu she recovered, my health
began to fail.”
Dick was looking at her attentively. She
had an oval face, and a brown-tinted skin
which seemed to soften the dark eves and
marked brows. Not a common face, he
thought, and strangely sweet.
“ IVe shall set sail presently," she went on.
“ The doctor said a voyage would be good for
John and me, and Peter Jensen, the skipper,
gave us a free assage. His wife came with
us; she is our andlady‘s cousin, and she has
been to this town before. While the schooner
was unloading we stayed with my brother in
his lodgings. Last night he went away."
Her voice faltcrcd a little. She had been
standing while she talked; then she seemed
suddenly to feel that she had said enough, and
she went back to her seat, holding the child’s
hand fast in her own. John made no attempt
to get free; he was quiet and quite subdued. .
Dick stood still and reflected. He knew
perfectly well what he wanted to do,.but he
did not know how to do it. Perhaps" she
would take offence. Yet he believed that it
was the right thing, and he must run the risk
ofa snubbing. He looked across the quay at
the slim creature, sitting patiently on the
timber, with the little stamp leaning his amis
u on her lap. The boy’s features were not
lilie hers, but now that he was gravehe had
caught something of her expression. And he
was a bonnie lad, a bairn that any man might
have been proud to own. ,
Still hesitating. he glanced around at the
craft lying at anchor, the ugly buildings on the
shore, and the wide space of water rippling
quietly under the calm sky. Suddenly a face
looked over the side of,the,big schooner-a
broad, honest face, with yellow hair and
heard. It was the Danish skipper. Dick
recognised him by instinct, and made up his
mind at once. -
“ Here goes," he muttered to himself.
“ Fine evening,” he said aloud. “ The lady
says you will soon set sail.”
“ Yes, yes,” answered the skipper, easy and
frank. “It is good weather, and we shall
have a fine massage home. I am glad for Miss
Bendon and the little bo 1" .
He spoke English well. It seemed as if he
accepted Dick as one of the lady's friends.
So the way was made plain. Dick told
what had just happened in a few straight
words. The skipper listened attentively, and
shook his head over the tale.
“The boy .w.1nts his.f.ither,T' he said.
“Miss Iiendou is too kind and tender. And
now I wonder what ‘is to be done? She told
me that her brother would be sure to help
her; but that wild youngster has thrown the
help awayl Five good British sovcieigns
gone to the fishes!"
“Look here, Captain ]'c-nsen,” Dick began.
“I've a five-pound note in my pocket at this
moment, and I'll hand it over to you for her.
Don‘t let her have it till yon’re well out at
sea. Tell her she can pay me back when she
likes. I'll write my name and address on a
leafof my pocket-book.”
The skipper uslied back his cap and rubbed
his head thong tfully.
“ She is proud,” he said. “ My wife knows
her very well. But she has had a hard life of
late, and I don't see why she should refuse a
kindness. . Yes, I will take the money for her,
and do all that you say.”
Dick wrote on the leaf ofliis note-book, and
handed it with the money to the skipper.
Then he nodded good-b'e to the Dane and
crossed over to the gir, who sat listlessly
waiting for the summons to go on board.
“Time's. nearly u ," he said cheerfully.
“ She's :1 fine craft; ’d like a voyage to the
Baltic in her myself. But I'm clerk at aship-
builder's here, and don't get many holidays.
Does this little man mean to be a sailor?"
“Yes," replied the little man prom tly;
“as soon as ever I’in big enough. Grand athcr
coined from the sea."
“Our father was captain of an English
mcrchantman,” his aunt explained. “ “'0 all
love the sea; it gives us back health and
“Perhaps on will sail again with Captain
Jensen," Dicll suggested.
She shook her head. ,
“No, I must work hard when I get back,
And he will not come here again for a year."
,““'cll, I hope 'ou‘ll have a. leasant
voyage and good luc at the end of it," said
Dick. “I wish I could think of something
better to say,” he added abruptly.
“There is nothing better to be said,” she
answered, lifting her dark eyes to his; and
until that moment he had never known how
very sweet dark eyes could be. “ No one can
want more than a pleasant voyage and good
luck at the end. It is what we all ask for,
isn't it ? "
He smiled. [
“An old gipsy told me years ago that my
good fortune would come from the sea," he
said. “ But I don't believe in fortune-telling.
There’: the skipper calling ‘on, madam."
He watched her on boar ,’and then waited
till the schooner had got under way. The
breeze freshcned, and she was soon scudding
along, a gallant’ craft sailing into the sunset
like a ship in a dream. She had left the quay
a good way astem when Dick woke from 3
reverie and remembered the life that he had
to live ashore, and certain claims that it made
upon him. He put his hands in his pockets
and whistled softly as he walked awav. An
anxious look clouded his face as big wcm
quicklyup the street.
The five-pound note belonged, strictly
speaking, to the piano fund. And the piano
fund onl' concerned two persons-Minnie
Brace an himself. v
About six months ago he had ‘ITO os
Minnie, and she had acdieiited himi Tllic iiilaiig
fund had been started soon after the engage-
ment. Minnie was musical, and had told
Dick ‘that he must begin to save up for a first.
rate instrument. She must have something
better to play upon. she said, than the poor
little tin-kettle at home. He was ready to
gratify any wish of hers, and would have done
his best to get her a church organ if she had
asked for it. For he was honestly in love.
(To 12: conlimml.)