Chapter One. The abode of Captain Amyas Layton overlooked the whole of Plymouth Sound. It stood on the eastern side near its northern end, on the wood-covered heights which rise above that magnificent estuary. From the windows could be seen the town of Plymouth, with its inner harbour, on which floated many a stout bark of varied rig and size; some engaged in the coasting trade, others just arrived from foreign voyages, and others destined to... more...

At Keyhaven—In dangerous company—The old smuggler—A frigate after battle—Dislike of Ben for the Royal Navy—An unexpected landing—Overbearing conduct of the midshipmen—Angry words—Lord Reginald Oswald—Toady Voules—At the village inn—Old messmates—Temptation—Susan Rudall’s anxious life—An adventure on the way to Elverston—Home at last—Reception at... more...

Chapter One. The Miner’s Dangers. A hum of human voices rose from a village in the centre of England, but they were those of women, girls, and children, the latter playing in the street, running, skipping, laughing, singing, and shouting in shrill tones, the former in their yards or in front of their dwellings, following such avocations as could be carried on out of doors on that warm summer evening. Not a man or lad, not even a boy above... more...

Jack Radburn, mate of the “Lily,” was as prime a seaman as ever broke biscuit. Brave, generous, and true, so said all the crew, as did also Captain Haiselden, with whom he had sailed since he had first been to sea. Yet so modest and gentle was he on shore that, in spite of his broad shoulders and sun-burnt brow, landsmen were apt to declare that “butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.” A finer brig than the... more...

Chapter One. My father, Richard Truscott, was boatswain of the Royal George, one of the finest ships in the navy. I lived with mother and several brothers and sisters at Gosport. Father one day said to me, “Ben, you shall come with me, and we’ll make a sailor of you. Maybe you’ll some day walk the quarter-deck as an officer.” I did not want to go to sea, and I did not care about being an officer; indeed I had never... more...

It was late in the afternoon when Mr Philip Ashton walked up to the door of his residence in Portman-square. His hand touched the knocker irresolutely. “It must be done,” he said to himself. “May strength be given to all of them to bear the blow!” His hand shook as he rapped. The hall door flew open, a servant in handsome livery stood ready to take his hat and gloves. As he entered the drawing-room his wife and daughters... more...

Chapter One. Peter’s Home and Friends. “Are you better, mother, to-day?” asked little Peter, as he went up to the bed on which Widow Gray lay, in a small chamber of their humble abode. “I trust so, my boy,” she answered, in a doubtful tone, as she gazed fondly on the ruddy, broad, honest face of her only child, and put aside the mass of light hair which clustered curling over his brow, to imprint on it a loving... more...

The Grateful Indian, A Tale of Rupert’s Land. By William H.G. Kingston. We cannot boast of many fine evenings in old England—dear old England for all that!—and when they do come they are truly lovely and worthy of being prized the more. It was on one of the finest of a fine summer that Mr Frampton, the owner of a beautiful estate in Devonshire, was seated on a rustic bench in his garden, his son Harry, who stood at his knee,... more...

Chapter One. Arthur Gilpin and Mark Withers walked down the High Street, arm-in-arm, on their return to their respective homes from the well-managed school of Wallington. They were among the head boys, and were on the point of leaving it to enter on the work of active life, and make their way in the world. They had often of late discussed the important question—all-important, as it seemed to them— “How are we to make our... more...

Chapter One. “Never was bothered with a more thorough calm!” exclaimed my brother Harry, not for the first time that morning, as he and I, in spite of the sweltering heat, paced the deck of our tight little schooner the Dainty, then floating motionless on the smooth bosom of the broad Pacific. The empty sails hung idly from the yards. The dog-vanes imitated their example. Not the tiniest wavelet disturbed the shining surface of the... more...