The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1856-05-21
III / srrll II y .
The Bride OF the Wreck.


was lonely sort OF bachelor, aud
had never yet known what young man
style " the passion" OF passion had
enough, as my old mate youder can tell
you. ! broke his head twice and his arm
once in fits of it; but he has always
seemed to love me all the better, for he
clings to me now very much as two
pieces of the same ship cling together
when drifting at sea. We are the sole
survivors of thousand wrecks, ard the
companies that sailed with us two years
ago, no other one is left afloat had
been sailor from my boyhood, and when
| was twenty-five | may say no man was
more fit to command vessel among the
mariners of England. And at this time
my uncle died and left me his fortune. |
had never seen him, and hardly knew
his existence but | had now speaking
evidence of that he existed no longer.
was young and strong in limb, and
think stout of heart, and | was possess
ed of the rental of some thousands per
annum What bar was there to my en-
joyment Of the good of ife2 No bar in
deed but l felt sorely the lack Of means
of enjoyment. was sailor in every
sense My education was tolerable aud
| had some books, but my tastes were
nautical and I pined on shore. You
easily understand, ,hen,why | built me
yacht and did spend much of my time in
her. She was fine craft and suited to
my taste in every respect, and l remem-
Der with a sign now, tue happy days |
have spent in the Foam"
used TO read considerable in my
cabin, and occasionally, and indeed week
ly, invited parties of gentlemen to cruise
with me. But the foot of a lady had
never been on deck of my boat, aud be-
gin to have an old bachelors pride in
fact. Yet / confess to you a secret long
ing for some sort of affection different
from any l had heretofore known, and a
restleness when men talked OF beautiful
women IN my presence,
One summer evening. ] was at the old
hall in which my uncle died, and was en-
tirely alone. Towards sunset | was sur.
prised, while looking over my books, by
the entrance of gentleman hastily an
uounced, and giving indication of no lit
tie excitement
Your pardon, sir, for my uncercmo-
nious entrance. My horses have run
away with my carriage and dashed it to
pieces near your park gate. My father
was badly injured. aud my sister is now
watching him. | have taken the liberty
to ask your permission to bring them to
your residence"
Of course my consent was instantly
given, and my own carriage dispatched
to the park gate
Mr.. Sinclair was gentleman of for
tune, residing about forty miles from me,
and his father, an invalid, fifty years or
more of age, was on his way in company
with his son, to his sons house, there to
die and be buried. They were strangers
to me but | made them welcome to my
hotssc. as if it were their own, aud insist
ed on their using it.
Miss Sinclair was the first woman who
had crossed my doorstope since | had
been possessor of the hall ard we'll she
might have been loved by better men
than l. She was very small and very
beautiful--of the size of Venus, which
all men worship as tho perfection of
beauty, but having a soft blue eye, shad-
ed by jetblack brows, her face presented
the contrast of purity of whiteness in the
complexion set off BY rayar Ha'r, and yet