The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-03-07

reilly III tte l'iSe hbi-'asih'iied
fireplace, and the ''uld people,' IN
CAPS aud braSs-bultoned suits, were
mrring around the geiiial gsaw-
"lucy is there anything l@twretl
Won arl--ar,l D,rrr NhHln'sSoh?F
.,he colorcd and turned her face
away while tears sprahg to l'erPyes'
sell me-" he urged, strrply
gra>piug her am;f"l will hare 10
more hals.cpnti'le'w. Las he
asked you ~ be his wfe"' 9c
"Yes. father" l.si 4..a.
!" Id yoll-what answer did you
make?'
; "iatlter," simply answered 1.ncy
with her vio'et eyes iaised to his,
81 love him." '''' ''a r
"Child, answered Isaac Penrith,
conquer this lille folly hest You
may. II never will give my
daughter to l'hilir Mar'in! Soatuw
yoa know my willard determiO-
alton in the matter"
He turned abruptly away, re-
leasing Lucy to the demands Of
halfa dozen pleading bird-voiced
girls, while he himself briefly de-
cliIed the kindly offers Of hospital
;ty that he$et lin on every side. d
81 must Ike g!in' hack, frieuds,".
he said, " ',rwasu't fairly right to
come over, but Lucy was so set
ont, and | musl,'t loSe M more
time by the looks Z the clouds
we'Il Lave . stormy night, AID the
Lord help them that are oat to sea
ong this cruel shore" r5a
And 50 he babe the jewellers a
"Good-night," and l,n,ked his last
at the ruddy glow m'the dritt,w"d
fire, aud Lucy'S sweet face, flushed
by is radiauce-or something else
as she stood adjusting late rose
il barbara Cities gold-misted
hair.
"l'll walk down to the shore
with ye, lleighDor Penrith," said
old Truman Clitfe, pulling on his
dreadnaught coat. Somehow,
I've been a sailor so long, | can't
bear to keep indoor when the wind
is blowln' up like it does now y !"
The late Autumnal sunset was
fri"ging the overhangilg clouds
with sullen fire-such fire as b,rns
itself out in stormy reflections, leav-
ing a track like bloody footsteps
across the tides---the winds were
moaning sullenly along the barren
shore, and the distant thunder of
the ground swell sounded like the
bass chords of Natures organ. u
"You're right, ls'ac," said Tnl.
man Clife. ats goip' to be an
awful night! There's mischief in
them clouds, and fever there was
murder in the sound Of the break
ers, it's. there tonight. Wby,I
what's the matter ?"
For Isaac Penrith had uttered a
cry that made the old sailors blood
grow chill in bis veins,
"The boat! Merciful Father, the
boat has goneE" '.'''
1t was true; tbe loop had some
how become loosed, and the little
bark was rocking somewhere on
the waves, beyond sight Of sound.
"lruman, | must have your boat
as quick as possible. 'The sun is
nearly down, but | can reach the
yet before lighting
tine!'' n H,p
He spoke in a husky voice,
while the beating of his heart
seemed like the strokes Of a muffled
drum.
Truman Cliffe turned with, a
diSmaycd face towards his old
companion. f
"Our boat is down to Kilcoran,
with Jared and his girls; they
won't be back until tomorrow
mornin' p s,s
There was an inStant's silence,
and then Isaac spoke, still in the
same hoarse, unnatural voice.
SIS there no other boat that l |
could get r. /. ....,s. .,l,.s.,t, .,ls
y, "IThleTe's Hugh Dopneelly's down
e sSn sns ISEIl PISpEiIplt fIf but shasa Pss two miles
.9sihuMl3l9h iGl5as,