Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1871-12-16
1 thought you In bed and asleep long

way; - theughi you In bed and asleep long
| ago"
He took the lantern from her hand, and they
stepped out into the porch-into the tremendous
| whirl and uproar OF the night.
"Now hang to me- ne said. "You are such
| little thing, it's wonder some OF these gales
| don't blow you OF the rocks.'
He put her behind him, shielding her with his
| own body. SO they came to the narrow bridge
| which connected the main beach with the point
| Of Ieck on which the tower stood.
"Great Heaven!'' cri 4 Luuell. raising the
| lantern quickly. +" Look!' and Val, from the
drenehed, dripping dreadna9ght, looked ac-
| was sweeping in great torrents across the little
eaUseway, rolling its horrible sucking tons over
the plank leaving only the iron railing visible.
al axe my arm and let us GO back"
"Go back!' she cried, seizing the lantern,
with pale brave face, Ego back. and leave the
| light to burn or not, as it happens? Never!"
But how is one going to cross!" demanded
| LutIell.
! IL can hold by the railing. must-I will gol
| have mems hives depending on you, rs they are
on me to-nightY l would go, tell you, if every
wave there was liquid hre!"
"Tell me what shall do, and for the love of
God let me 20 in your stead!''
"You do not know-you woald not under
stand-it is my duty, not yours"
| He stared at her u moment blankly, then re-
leased her from the grasp he had thrown upon
| her.
"Shame upon me, Come. then; I 90 with
you, If it is into peIdition! Hold fast TO Inc: it
| will be no chiid's play"
go back!'' cried Val; " will not have you
here! Ten to one We shall both be swept of in
| that tide
"Come immediately, Miss Kilburn, or 1 shall
make the passage alone"
| He flung his arm around her. The next mo-
ment they were struggling on the bridge. Noun
swept away all foothOld on the planks below.
| Their sole stay was the iron railing. To this
| they chung; by means of this alone they fought
inch by inch, their way to the door of the tower.
| Once a great wave, whittier than Winter snow,
uplifted itself against the planks, and, bursting
full upon Val, tore her from Lutrell's grasp. He
| dropped the lantern, with a cry. 1t went over
| like great star, and was Quenched in the sea.
| At the same instant he seized her again by the
| dreadnaught, and was dashed, with her, by q
| mighty gust, full against the tower. r
"ATe YOU hurt?' he shOuted-"speak to mel"
al can't, she answered, half-laughing, even
| then; "my mouth is full of sea- WATER
I'm utter darkness she opened the door; in
utter darkness led the way up the step-ladders-
| up and up, through narrow, open traps, to the
| great light. He followed. Drenched to the
skin, there they stood, at last, revealed to each
other.
| =" Here we must stay for the rest Of the night"
said Lutrell, fatty, 'iOr to make the passage of
those planks again in darkness, is out Of the
question"
She looked carefully to the lamp, then went
and sat down on a wet heap at the head Of the
| trap. How the storm thundered and roared
tower! Lost sea-birds were dashed by the wind
| against the glass outside-tufts of their plumage
| were left on the wet pane. AS Lutrell looked
forth, the terrific sea below seemed like some
vast white upheaving hell.
"Do you have many nights like this in the
course of year," he asked, shaking the wet
from his red beard.
"Sometimes more, sometimes less. Will you
| tell me the timer
He sat down on the narrow ledge running
around the glass, and drew out his repeater.
ntnr 4 nm
She remained quiet little longer, evidently
listening to the storm without, then gathered
herself up.
81 think )" she said, calmly, "that will now
He had expected this, and he leaped up
| quickly; and approached her.
| "With no lantern, and in this furious wind,
and over that bridge again? Impossible!"
81 must, and wil!''
| "You prefer, then, to risk your life rather
watch in this place with Miss Mays iover?' ~
She changed color violently.
- am not constrained to give my reasons"
she answered, cOldly-"nor need you follow
| "Stop, Vail" He put himself before the trap;
| his face was steady and luminous. "YOu cam
rot 60 till you hear me, at least 1t Is not Miss
| Mays lover who begs you to stay-whO prays
and entreats you to stay-whO will himself 90, If
| one must-nOt Miss Mays lover, Val, but yours
your Own!''
Then, waiting for no answer, he took her two
brown hands in his. and went on, passionately;
| a. came here seeking Laura May, but you
have driven her forever out of my head and
| heart. love you ardently, utterly-mOre than
| ever loved any woman before-more than 1
can ever love any other again. Can you-win
| you marry me?"
She stood pale and still, her mocking dark
| eyes cast down.
"You do not love me, then?" he said, with
| white lips.
She hung her splendid head, and answered
| nothing
| lyon do not believe that love you?"
She drew her hands quietly from his.
| go back to New Yock," she said, sand do
| not seek to see me for a year. If at the end of
| that time you still remember the night-still re-
| me-"
He smiled down on her sedately.
| oval, cannot"
| "Then will never be your wife,"
|
Red and bright the beacon streamed across
| the bar till morning; and then he went, with no
promise but this-no word, no caress. Only, in
| the cold, grey dawn q brown girl stood on the
rocks, and waved him q silent farewell, with the
1 light Of her mocking eyes drowned in tears.
| And the year went by; and one night, when
| the high tides raved on the rocks below, and the
| lamp burned, as OF old, in the tower, he came,
"The year Is over" he said. smiling.
"Ay!" she answered, the old, wicked bright
| ness in her eyes.
"And your test, also. Will YOU send me from
| you again?"
She looked once in the red bearded face,
| glowing now with great joy and passion, then
| hid her own on his heart, and answered not q
| word.
! But Laura had fallen heiress to a fortune, and
1 tod Avff rCofvv f1ch aE, Is.