The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-07-01

occupied it, arose to sitting posture,
and gently repulsed him. Before he
could speak, it addressed him in
pleasing voice, which, however, was
piercing enough to make itself dis
tinctly heard amid the dashing
waters:
Stay, my son, you are welcome to
iii the support my raft will allow you,
but for both of us to mount would
entail destruction on BOTH
"Father," gasped the Count,
whoever you may be, you will surely
assist me in saving my life"
.'Truly, son." returned the other
voice, ''you apply for help at a most
unreasonable time. But I am bound
at least to succor you with my I'D
vice; and I therefore advise you to
swim for some rocks, which zhre dis
tant about quarter OF league in
the direction in which am pointing.
They are always above water, and in
the morning you will certainly be
discovered by some vess -
Thanks, father" replied the
Count; s'but I would rather cling
here, with the certainty of being safe
for the moment, than again risk my
life in q struggle with the waves for
chance of reaching some rocks I
may not be able to climb"
''Such is the wisdom of mani" said
the other, sever confident in the
present, ever distrustful of the flu
ture. But I tell you, my son, that
yon rocks are easily accessible, and
that if you strike away now you are
SAFE"
"Safe or not, father, 1 remain here;
and I therefore cntreat you, if you
have the means, to steer us in search
of this same rock platform-we shall
then have the satisfaction of being
saved together
'I am on my own course, my son,
and I advise you not to keep my
company" said the other voice. The
words induced the Count to examine
his companion as closely as possible,
but the fast failing twilight only en-.
abled him to discern q figure in o.
priests robe, the hood of which ef-
fectually shrouded the features of the
wearer.
"You speak strangely, father" said
the Count; "but hold my intention,
fervently wishing I had something
easier to hold, for my fingers are
numbed, and this wood is slippery"
81 have warned you, my son; but
if you insist on remaining, 1 will do
what I can to did you"
The figure seemed engaged with it's
dress for moment. The next, o
small but intensely bright red light
appeared by its side, suddenly illu-
minating the raft, the two speakers
and the surrounding waters, with q
lustre which seemed supernatural.
AS soon rs the Count could recover
from the effect upon his eyes, he
eagerly scrutinized the face of the
other, who had thrown back his hood,
and wa fixing little lamp contain
ing the light into the wood of the
raft. The features were calm and
regular, and the tonsure on the head
added to their dignified character.
The stranger was clearly priest, but
his dress offered no aid in the disco
very of his rank or country, even to
the eye of the Count de Burigny.
II repeat it, my son, exhort you
to save yourself by swimming, and
you are still in time to do so. But.
since you ore obstinate, this cord will
afford you the assistance you desire. "
"Thanks, father" said the Count,
as the priest, gradually creeping to-
wards him, drew the rope, which lie
had taken from his own waist, under
the arms Of the former, and, ATTACH
ing one end to ring in the wood
work, passed the cord several times
around the body of the Count, and,
at length, secured him so cffectually
to the raft, that he foated without
the least necessity for exertion. The
priest then regained his seat in the
centre, and, for some minutes, they
were silent. The Count was the first
to speak.
81 did not see you, father, among
us, i'll the unfortunate Drontheim, y
he said.
81 remained below, at prayer, my
son, until tarrying became presump-
ton; L then hurled this raft upon the
pillows, and departed upon my mis-
sion."
'Again you speak mysteriousIy,
father. Might one know what the
mission may be which keeps man on
q raft, in the middle of the ocean, a.