The weekly standard. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1869-18??, 1869-12-15

no manners for his betters. Let me Co."
She pushes past him, and at the same
moment Davis lounges up. 80 9,l "
. aDid YOU hear signal ~ he ssys. SIN
thinking it came from beyond Hedden's
Mouth. Come on and tell the lieutenant.
Why, man, where be ye going, of in the
dark alone; 'ull no oane; wait and gle me
q help wi the life boat" y aI .uTg
/. John only shook off the grasp bis friend
had laid on his coat, and hurried off into the
darkness. s1 7'-a- Z"
We'll, I'm blowed 7 says Dayie qthere'h
be summit more than common amiss WI
steady chap like that Jun afore he'd run
mucker along the cliff edge in the dark"
And Dayie hurries back to tell the lieutenant
of the signal he fancies be has heard. + c
!, That night no one but the children went
to bed in the little fishing village. ts
At about eight o'clock Dayie had spread
the alarm Of ship off the Hedden's Mouth,
and the danger was too we'll known not to
rouse stirring sympathy in all who heard
the things. Lieutenant Roberts and his men
had soon put off in the life-boat, and more
than one of the fshing-boats had followed;
though the sea was now so wild that some
of the older men shook their heads, and
muttered that at were clean temptin' OF
Providence Even in the upper village
straw rumors of the excitement below kept
folk waking. s...-rsf
Fanny Haywood lived alone with her
father He had been village schoolmaster,
but was superanuated now, and almost child
ish; his chief idea being the correctness
and spotless condition of his clothing, and
the beauty and irresistible charms of his
daughter Fanny. He saw no use whatever
in sitting up, burning candles, just because
n ship had been so stupid as to get on the
rocks, and he told his daughter she would
do wisely if she went to bed, too.
Fanny gave him careless answer; but
when he had fairly gone up stairs, she
had placed herself at the window and
looked out, in hope of hearing news from
some passer-by. -,...f -
The girl heart was very heavy tonight.
She had not said one word to her father.
She had joked and laughed, and tried to
bear herself bravely; but the pent-up sor-
row grew in its struggle to find vent-in the
dark stiffness it made her heart as heavy as
lead. .'
That night was very dark. Fanny put
her head out of the lattice as she heard
far-off sound, and the wind swirling round
the house 10 wild gust, blew her hair into
her eyes. The sound came nearer, heavy
and numbering, not like mere footstep.
"Who's there? she calls as it comes near
er; there is q strong sudden horror in her,
though she could not have found name for
it. -...r.r
"It's me-Dayis. be in barrow from
the rocks down yonder." I'D, .s-
"He's fallen and smashed his ankle" says
a deep voice, which Fanny recognizes as
that of the second in command at the coast
guard station 81 had to come back, so I've
brought him along"
:" Is the ship safe ?" says Fanny.
well, yes" (the man speaks sulkily) "she
cried out before she was hurt. There's one
of the boats stove in that came out after the
life-boat."
Fanny's heart gives sudden bound. as
any one hurt besides DavieW she says, in
a faint, scared voice.
"Well, yes, and must go on now, miss.
I'm come in to fetch the doctor out to Joe
Porter and another poor fellow"
as John Fry down helping with you 2"
she says. .r- .I..-
Davie strikes in, Fanny's gasping tone
having reused him.
SIN not easy in my mind, he says. "John
Fry left me all in hurry to go to the rocks,
and no ones seen or heard on him since.
Johns not the one to stand by when folks
want help"
Before his words were spoken Fanny is
out of the cottage, She can see two figures
in the indistinct like-a light that seems in
itself fraught with fear and doubt With
all her haste, that strange mechanical quail
ity we call "habit" makes Fanny take down
shawl which hangs in the passage and
wrap it round her head and shoulders as she
runs into the road. She puts out her hand
till it touches the coast guards arm.
Mr.. Evans, tell any one you see to send
help to the foot Of the cliffs and tell Lieu
tenant Roberts Pm gone there to look for
John Fry" 's ti''i - a- -
"Gone alone-God help her. But as he
speaks there is nothing but the vague, indis
tinct glimmer Mound Evans and his charge.
Fanny has sped on far out of sight, down
the fern-banked lane, lighter than it had
been in the upper village, for the sea is be-
fore her. HIXIlH EETl
She guesses the fishermen are not gone to
bed, and she knocks loudly at the first door
she comes to.
A man, very old and feeble, opens it, with
face honey-combed with wrinkles. He
has lantern in his hand, and holds it up to
examine her.
''Let me have it, father Pugsley," says she.
taking the lantern with grasp he cannot
resist. 'If there's man or boy in the house
send them after me to the foot of Ragged
jack
The wonderful power of instinct has told
her that if any harm has come to John her
conduct has caused it. She sees him hurry
ing along the cliffpath, when she left him
with those taunting words on her lips.
She hurries on SO fast that visions of what
may have befallen her lover seem to lure her
on to reach them as they move in bodily
shape before her. At another time she
would have been frightened, but now she
heeds nothing but the desire to find her
lover before any one else can reach him.
She Is near the point, when sudden gust
blows her light out. She has seen that old
Pugsley had left matches inside the lantern.
and she soon relights 1t, but that moment of
utter darkness, all alone on that giddy
height, with the moaning, gulping sound Of
the waves below, shakes Fanny from head
to foot.
What if she cannot find him? What if
he has fallen to the bottom of the cliff, and
the hungry waves, ebbing back, have car
ried him along with them forever2
Her fingers grew unneryed and trembling
she cannot relight the lantern. Even if
she finds him he will not be alive. He NAV
be an undistinguishable mass of broken
bones and wounds-too dreadful to contem.
plate. .-..... I'D. --- ,-.g.
Flame at last, and with the it girls courage
rekindles She trembles still, but she draws
her shawl more closely around her, and goes
forward. not so fast, but more steadily.
There is heart, after all, in her vain lit
tie body-a heart that almost for the first
time in her life, is speaking TO her more of
another than of herself-and the longing to
help and comfort John for his own sake is
overmastering any selfish dread.
She stops, and holds the lantern high
above her head. Just before her, black In
the vague light, Ragged Jack stands out as
if. to stop her way A sudden chill at her
heart, and she lowers her lantern to the
paths edge. Fanny could never remember
why she did thls-it was strong, impelling
instinct. She looks, and then she shrinks
back sick and white, against the rock wall
besides her. IT John yet lives, he is lying
below where she stands. The path is bro
ken away, and there are signs that large bits
of rock have been recently loosened from its
edge and hurried down to the sea.
And as the reality forces itself upon Fan
ny that she must descend that fearful preci-
pice alone in the darkness, face to face with
the moaning, wailing sea-a moaning and
wailing which echoes, heavily and hopeless
ly, every thought of terror-Fanny's cour- 4
age flies in one long, ,shuddering sigh, and
Jt1n cfv, LIE kor III