er lay
off and on, waiting for them: but they found nothing. After they got back,
however, the colonel he had a meeting with the owners, and satisfied them
all, in some way--I never knew how--that they had just reversed the
bearings, and hadn't been near the place. How he knew, I can't say, for he
had never been there, to my knowledge, and I happen to know that they must
have been pretty near the spot, for they found a sort of a hillock that I
remembered, and they told me all about the bearings, and they agreed with
my chart."
"Well!--"
"Well, the next time they went, they took Taylor with them, and everything
went on smoothly enough till one day, when the voyage was almost up, Taylor
he said to Pearce--'Pearce,' said he, 'to-morrow, at this time, I shall be
a rich man; and now,' says he, 'Mr. Pearce,' says he, 'I must have my
letters.' Upon this, up steps John Mac, and says he, 'Taylor,' says he,
'when you want any letters, you'll have to come to me for them; and I shall
have to put you upon allowance.' And then Taylor--he was an old
man-o'-warsman, you see, and he couldn't get along without his grog--he
jest ups and says--'that's enough, capt'n. You may haul aft the sheet, tack
ship, and go home. I shall tell you nothing more. As soon as the money is
safe--I see how 'tis--old Taylor'll have to go overboard.' And he stuck to
what he said, though he went ashore with them, just to show them that he
knew every point of the compass--for he told them where they would find a
couple of holes in the ledge--and they found them there, just as he said;
and the first thing they saw, there was Taylor away up on the top of a high
mountain, smoking a pipe. He had always told them he knew how to get up
there; but they never believed him, because they had all tried and couldn't
fetch it."
"And he stuck to it, hey, and never told them anything more?"
"Jess so."
"And what became of Taylor? Is he living?"
"No; he died in the hospital at Bath not more than five years ago."
"And you still think the money was there?"
"Think!--I am sure of it."
"Do you believe it is there now?"
"Do I!--Certainly I do!"
Whereupon, all I have to say is--_Hurrah for bubbles!_
* * * * *
SONNET.--QUEEN OF SCOTS.
BY WM. ALEXANDER.
Within a castle's battlemented walls,
In crimsoned dungeon lay fair Scotia's queen:
Like drooping sorrow seemed she oft to lean
Her weary head. Pale, weeping m
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