The Conservative. (M'connelsville, Ohio) 1866-1871, 1870-05-20

to John after his first outburst gives way al
the cry. and his anger breaks through like
a ground swell, betokening how deepit hes
hidden away.
'sBe quiet" he says, savagely, and then
the sharp pain at his heart nerves HIM, as
pain viii nerve to selt-mastery.
Fanny, when I asked you If you could
love me well enough to be my wife thougt
of you as a man thinks of true woman.
thought I wasn't worthy of your love, even
though l gaveyou my heart and soul IN ex-
change. 1 gave 'em you, Fanny; you have
been first and foremost in every thought
I've had since then. Tn not making a
merit of so doing-I don't know as | can
take them back: God knows how I love
you still, but I'll not take wife who S not
content with the love I've got to give her,
who'll not keep herself for me alone. III
not put myself in the danger Of marrying
where can't trnst.
She had kept her eyes hidden, and he
had not seen the shame and the sorrow Wat
had filed them, but his hist words stuDg
her into sudden fire.
Nobody asks you to- cher voice has the
taunting ring in it he is least able to bear.
''Fm not likely to ask any man to marry
me, Mr.. Fry-least of all one whom I've
made great mistake by ever having any
thing to do with. l always felt I'd thro|n
myself away, and now TN sure of it. I'm
fit for something better than fisherman's
wife, / can tell you-a rough brute that
has no manners for his betters. Let me
CO."
She pushes him, and at the same mo
ment Davie lounges up.
did you hear signal?" he says. 'I'm
thinkin' it came from beyond Hedden's
mouth. Come on and tell the lieutenant.
Why, man, where be ye going, off in the
dark alone; nj help noane; wait and gle
me help wi the ifeboat. "
John only shook off the grasp his friend
had laid laid on his coat, and hurried OH
into the darkness"
"WeH, I'm blowedr' says Dayie, 'fhere'l
be summit more than common amiss WI q
steady chap like that 'un afore he'd run q
mucker along the cliff-edge in the dark"
And Davie hurries back to tell the lieuten-
ant of the signal he fancies he has heard.
PART Ill.
That night no one but the children went
to bed in the little fishing village.
At bout eight o'clock Davie had spread
the alarm of ship off the Hedden's Mouth,
and the danger was too well known not to
rouse a stirring sympathy in all who heard
the tidings. Lieutenant Roberts and ms
men had soon put off IN the lifeboat, and
more than one of the fishing boats had fol-
lowed; though the sea was now so wild that
some of the older men shook their heads
and muttered that sit were a clean temp
tin of Providence. Even in the upper vii
lage stray rumors of the excitement below
kept folk waking.
Fanny Haywood lived alone with her
father. He had been village schoolmasteT,
but was superannuated now, and almost
childish; his chief ideas being the correct
ness and spotless condition of his clothing
and the beauty and irresistible charms of
his daughter Fanny. He saw no use what
ever in sitting up burning candle just be-
cause ship had been so stupid as TO get
on therocks, and he told his daughter she
would do wisely if she went TO bed too.
Fanny gave him a careless answer; but
when he had fairly gone up stairs, she
placed herself at the window and looked
out, IN hopes of hearing news from some
passer-by.
The girls heart was very heavy tonight.
She had not said one word to her father.
She had joked, and laughed, and tried 10
bear herself bravely; but the pent up sor-
row grew in its struggle to find vent
the deep lone stiffness it made her heart
heavy as lead.
The night was very dark. Fanny put
her head out of the the lattice as she heard
far-off sound, and the wind swirling
round the house in wild gust blew her
hair into her eyes. The sound came near
er, heavy aud numbering, not like mere
footstep.
"Who's there?' she calls, as it comes
nearer; there is a strong sudden horror Ia
her, though she could not have found .
name for it.
'It's me-Davie. be in barrow from
the rocks down yonder."
Hes fallen and smashed his ankle, y
says deep voice which Fanny Haywood
recognizes as that OF the second In com
mand of the coastguard station; 81 had to
come back, so I've brought him along"
els the ship safe?" says Fanny Hey
wood.
"Agell, yes," (the man speaks sulkily;,
''she cried out before she was hurt. There's
one of the boats stove in that came out af-
ter the hfebost."
Fanny's heart gives a sudden bound. 81
any one hurt besides Davie?" she says, il
faint, scared voice.
"Well, yes; and must go on, Miss, now
I'm come in to fetch the doctor Quito Joe
Porter and another peor fellow"
"Is John Fry down helping with your
she says.
Davie strikes in; the gasping tone oi
FaRny's word nadroused him.
:'Tm not easy in my mind" he says
'John Fry left me all in hurry to go of
| to the rocks, and there's no one seen ol
heard on him since. Johns not the lad ia
stan by wi his hands in his pockets while
folks is wanting help"
Before his words are spoken Fanny is oui
of the cottage door. She can see the fig.
ures In the vague indistinct hght-a light
that seems fraught IN itself with doubt and
fear. With all her haste, that strange
mechanical quality we call ''habit" makes
Fanny take down a shawl, which hangs II
the passage, and wrap it around her head
and shoulders as she runs into the road
She puts out heI hand till it touches tht
coast guards arm.
''Mr Evans, tell any one you see to sent
help to the foot of the cliffs: and tell lieu
tenant Roberts I'm gone there TO look fOl
John Fry"
'fGone alone God help herl" But Q,
he speaks there is nothing but the vagu,
indistinct glimmer round Evans and III
charge. Fanny has sped on far out ofsight
down the steep fern banked lane, lighte
than 1t had been in the upper village, 10
the sea is before her
She guesses that the fishermen are no
gone to bed, and she knocks loudly at tn
first door she comes to.
/ An old man opens 1t, very old and feeble
with a face honeycombed with wrinkles,
He has lantern in his hand, and holds
up to examine his visitor.
''Let me have it, Father Pugsley, say
the girl, taking the lantern with grasp b
is powerlese to resist. elf there's ma
or boy in the house with you, send then
after me to the foot of Ragged Jack.
The wonderful power of instinct has tol
. her that if any harm has come to John he
conduct has caused it. She sees him hun
rying along the cliff path when she left hi
with those taunting words on her lips. Sh
knows every inch of the path, and John
; loving, protecting care has Taught her to
) well its dangers At the fSot of this mas
sive pile of gray rocks, which the villagel
, call Ragged Jack, the path seems to en-
suddenly-so abrupt is the angle it make
t round the jagged mass. Fanny shuddel
5 when she thinks of the jutting out cras
I below, and how much care and caution
would require in the darkness to follow tb
, tahrunt turns of the slipDery uneven natl