St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1873-09-26

see that there was only another length
of unprotected balk: beyond that was
a broad safe platform of timber. stretch
ed from pier to pier. Oh, to feel that
platform safe under my feet, | tray
erSrd the balk almost at run. | must
reach safely before there came another
blow of that fierce wind.
| heard it coming now but was al
most home-,ycs. home, for that rough.
unsheltered platform, OF this rude night
seemed like 1t home to me. was step
ping firmly and quickly along. Sud
denly Il chasm seemed to open under
my tcct-a horrible chasm. The beam
on which stood came suddenly to an
end. For some eight feet it had been
cut away, and there was nothing to
help me over this dreadful gap. With
out wings. 1t were impossible to pass.
All nope left me. knew that to re-
trace my steps was impossible to me.
Even if ] reached the end from which
had started | should be no better of
than here. and the hopclessness of the
position weakened my every nerve.
Once more heard the wind rising. and
hurtlng along towards me. | would
cling t" life as long as could | knclt
down on the wet. slippery balk, claspcd
1t with my aims, sat astride it. The
gust came up fierce and strong. passed
over me once mOre-Once more spared
me.
But felt could not survive another
such attack | should he blown away
like il leaf. And yet there was no hope
of escape 1t was only Il queS-
ton OF moments how long. with stitfen-
ing limbs. | could cling to this rough
beam: then plunge into darkness.
Still had time to think What were
my thoughts \ helpless sense of cruel
ty. of the horrible unteelingncSS and
malignity of this hurtling wind, of those
raging waters. \ sad modification.
too. and scns, of injustice. that should
lose my life for nothing; pleasant
ramhle turned to such an an evil end.
OF the past thought nothing it was
nothing to me now a tale that was
told: that WAS all. OF the future. moth
ing. either. except a dim and awful
wonder. But plainly, wildly before
my eyes | SAW the figure of my wife.
sitting at work by the fire. waiting and
Watching for me-for me. who never
should come. That was the bitterness
of ii.
And vet withal ! was not unconscious
of certain vague sense of the ludicrorS
of scoln of myself. that | should he
thus stuck up astridc beam. like some
lad at play. a sport for the butfetings of
the elements. With this. too. an un-
spcakablc rage: ii kind of crushed de
tance. a revolt against the doom which
was 50 imminent. revolt which felt
itself hopeless and useless from its he
ginning.
Whilst all this storm of conflicting
thoughts WAS whirling through my
brain. the turmoil outside was dimin-
ishing. The wind had hushed for a
while. and across my face there came
Tor moment a sort of ruddy glow. the
last beams of the sun setting rapidly
int" the sea. The vapurs divided for a
moment, the huge dark mass of Il noun
tain trowucd down upon me for a
moment only-thcn the clouds enc0m-
passed me once mure-tllc glow died
away-thc awful gloomy gray OF night
began 10 gather i'll upon me like Il net
Should drop into the SEA. and end it
all To die in the dark would he mulc
honihle than anything else Even on
the quetc>t. most resigned death-hed.
the loss of light is the most diSguicting
trouble to the departing soul. Light
more light , is the last cry of the spirit
in extremity. And now il seemed aS
though nature had determined to spare
me no pamg of all the gathering horrors
of my doom. Darkness and despair
were setting down upon my soul.
Then came the storm once more with
Il rush of gathered rain. It howl. Il shout.
It roar of triumph. IL the shIill wind
past. precursor of moIc
furious blast. could bear no more.
y saPlcss. ncrVcl,>> foIm | WAS. swept
from the beam like Il withcrcd lcat'f from
Il branch. and frll, catching at some
eros, beams as | fell. hut losing my
hold III Il moment, and dropping help
lra>lv down.
Once more consciousness returned. .
y vague >ilvtry light WAS diifu>cd about
me. above were stars shining. huge
baiIlS of timber gimmcrcd overhead /.
| was stretched upon Il bed of wet sand .
ll ing on my back. looking mp into the
sky.
was not dead. then. No. Was | T.
crushed! drew up one limb .
after another. fearing lest a sudden .
shout of agony should hctray some
gricvouS hurt. But no. was sound .
in limb; and as raised myself and .
looked about. | felt that. except for
dizziness and wonderful ringing that .
WAS c"a>eleSSly going on in my head. | |
WAS unhut. And was | saved ? That /
was as might happen.
When rose and stood upon my feet. |
! looked around me. and saw that had !
fallen upon little island, narrow spit .
of sand that had formed in the eddy |
caused by the pile of the bridge. On |
each side of it ran strong and rapid |
current. All this saw by the light of |
the moon. sometimes bright. sometimes |
obscured. as she parted her way among
the fast driving clouds.
Distantly across the waters Shonc the .
lights of the little town. 1t had its gas
lamps, which sparkled brilliantly in the
night; and from out of the black rocks
which showed against the skyline, here
and there the soft light of candle in a
cottage window cleaned like fairy
lamp.
On the other side of the estuary there |
were no lights; hut the straining eye
might discern the gloom of high hills,
that seemed, indeed, only like dark
some chasms i'll the sky but as
watched, | saw a tiny star that was
gliding among the rocks. Now seen,
now lost. | followed it with longing
eyes: and listening intently. / heard |
the clatter of horses hoofs, and the
murmur of wheels rising and falling, as
the road wound in and ont among the
rocks further or nearer. 1t was some
carriage rolling rapidly towards home
towards my home, and here was |, a
caStaWaV