Litchfield enquirer., 1873-08-21
patience for half that time while I tell vou

l a story! 4ss l ..Certainly," she said, and sat dou,
 again with q little air of offended sur
 prise. t.ss,sa sa..sasfsF. ss55s sss s1
 made movement to go. observing
 that l always knew Ducie was an uncom
 monly brave fellow, but now had high CT opinion than eyer of his courage, sine,
 I saw him venture to brave so very fer.
 young lady as my cousin. She smilef
 and blushed little at this, dropping hel
 face like lovely pink lily. He oll.
 made gesture to stay me, and said:
 sI would rather you remained, Fred fellow. Miss Curtiss paid me similal
 compliment just now. I-but will tel
 you my story, and then you shall tell mi
 what you would call the hero, and wheth CT you could have any kind feelings f0l
 such person."
 He spoke to me, but his eyes were oI
 Helen; and I saw her finch as if soma
 one had threatened her with blow. Like a fool never guessed the reason why.
 ''Two years ago" Ducie said, ga friend of mine and his servant were travelling il South America. The former went abroad for his health-not that he was ill wheE the anecdote l am going to tell you tool place, You will please not make that ex. cuse for hlm-he was perfectly well; and he took his servant with him because the lad was so attached to him, such a faith full true hearted fellow that he could moi make up his mind to leave him behind. It was scorching hot weather, such heat as you may expect in country which lies on the southern border of Brazil; and my friend used to go every morning to bathe at Plaza Ramirez, large unsheI. tered bay about a mile and a half from the town. A beautiful stretch of sand fl was; the best bathing place in the neigh l borhood, and yet very dangerous one; | for If you went outside Q certain number ! of yards you were liable to get entangled l in one of two or three conflicting currents which in dead calm you could see curl. ! ing about with each other like hamless sea-serpents, but which, if they caught you in thelr strong embrace, would as- l suredly carry you out into the Atlantic, unless you happened to be strong and clever swimmer.
 "Well, one morning my friend and John Barton, his servant, went to bathe as us- uai about ' o'clock-a late hour in those climates, Miss Curtis, where most people start at 5,.and where the sun is Almost strong enough to roast the hrains in your head by 8. As a natural consequence, they found themselves alone at the piazza, having met most of the Montevideans re- turning. All the better. Englishmen are not fond oflpublicity, as you're aware.
 ''My friend went in first, leaving Bar ton to watch his clothes, lest any of the small fry from the negro hamlet of wash er:women above the bay should come down and appropriate the articles: and when he had sufficiently refreshed him. self and emerged on to the sands again, Barton went in for a similar enjoyment. It could not possibly have been five min utes later. He had barely got into his clothes when he heard a piercing shriek from the water, and turning, saw that he had disappeared. The next moment, however, the lads head rose to the sur- face about dozen yards from the shore, and he cried, Master help! The crampl Help r before going down again like a stone.
 ''Of course you think the master dashed in and dragged him out. It was not much to do for this faithful fellow, whe left his home and friends rather than leave him, He did no such thing Hs hesitated, and his llmha turned to ice, and every drop of blood in his body to water. Like Q wave there rushed over him the thnSs it that he could not swim s:s..roke. that he was accumulated with his clothes, that barton was a stronger man than himself, that once in the current, with 2 drowning mans clutch st his neck, they must both inevitably be swept out to sea and perish. 1t was only moment; then the lads head rose again. For one second his eyes caught his masters face in look of wild, despairing appeal; and maddened by the situation, my friend rushed-not into the water, but up the bank, shr1eking for help to the men who drive the sanp-carts along the brow of the bay. Before he had gone tuo yards-before they even heard him, Barton sank for the' third time, and-an was oyer.
 .'Sheer physical fear, spasm of uncon- querable cowardice which he had never felt before in his whole life, and which, finding him utterly unprepared for it, completely Overmastered the mans en- tire nature, had in that one miserable minute cost the life of his faithful serv- ant and darkened his own forever.
 ''There's not much more to tell you, It was just the turn of the tide, Within twenty minutes of the affair, the waves flung psor Barton's dead body within rcacA u1 ble man WHO MAgnb nave Cfleu Co save h,s life, and did not. The 'peons' helped to carry it up the bank and lay it on the sand-cart, to bring it into town. believe it was buried decently next day. They told me so; but before that was ill raving with sun stroke which"
 "Your' The word leaped from my lips in cry of horror. .spucieI you don't mean that you have told us of-that you l were that He turned and looked me in the face. 'tYes, Fred, was that man; I, whose pluck people are so fond of praising." There was dead silence. ts
 | wish that could tell won my feelings