Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1875-08-12

was gone The Sea Eagle had spread
sail for Southern waters and Pauline was
left desOlate
Love Gilbert? she said to herself some
hours after, when the whirl of her mind
and her senses began to subside Love
| Gilbert, her prOsaic cousin? She was very
| fond Of him. he was a sort of brother
they had grown up side by side. But if
| she never saw him again what would if
| seriously matter to her? But Dunstan
was her life, her heaven, her horizon. For
days and weeks the melancholy gaze of
those great Spanish eyes Of his haunted
| her, the beauty Of his dark, passionate
face hung before her like a vision: every
night as she looked out on the infinite gray
waves she adjured them to be propitious
and bear him swiftly and safely on.
But the waves did not heed the PRAYER.
The Sea Eagle never came to harbor.
Pieces of wreck drifted ashore sufficiently
to tell the story, months afterward, that
she had been burned, perhaps in mid
ocean; and Of the fate of the souls on
board, whether perishing or taken off by
some passing whaler, there was no record
to tell. Day by day Pauline grew still
and stiller. Pale, thin, but becoming ra-
dainty and, as it were, ethereally beauti-
full, she waited; and when year had
passed she put on her black gown and
took up life as weary expiration. An al
most divine patience illuminated her face,
| a perfect sweetness. If that freshness of
earliest youth was gone an aura of gentler
loneliness had replaced it, as the holy lin
eaments grew on Veronica's handkerchief.
He is in heaven" she said ''I will be
fit to meet him, - and she gave up her life
to others; while Gilbert's heart bled daily
to see her, and no word of passion ever es-
capped his teeth.
But to-day an easterly storm was laying
low the darlings of the trellis and the wind
was Whistling through the rivuletrunning
gardens, where hyacinths and fuchsias
and nasturtiums were sOdden in indistin-
guishable ruin. For three days the storm
had hOWled over the hill-Wet, wild and
dreary-lashing the sea that lay below the
all through the opening and shutting day
light nothing could be discerned but the
flying silver horns of spray that flashed
upon the gloom and grayness. The fish
ing schooners huddled in the harbor
faced the gale and defied its terrors. One,
indeed, broke loose from her anchorage
and drifted upon the beach; but it
was at point where her crew
easily saved themselves before the
waves, running their wild race and
Gaping over her, left nothing but her ribs
reared high upon the sand. When Gilbert
came in, toward night, he brought word
that the water was rising in the town be-
low, and that many had been obliged to
leave their homes for the hospitality of
dwellings less exposed. And then moth
ing would answer Pauline, who felt a GER
tain awfulresponsibility under every stress
of bitter weather, but waterproof and boots
and Gilberts escort Of herself and Mari
ana to the beach.
But the rain is DOWN. pour, Pauline"
urged Mrs. Lascelles.
:" All the better, mamma. There is
nothing like these drenching showers
when they fall on your face, as if you
were leaf or a stOne-or young birch
tree" she added, with half a laugh For
1t was Gilbert who used to compare her
with that gay and rustling thing; and, for
the rest, Pauline laughed great deal to
hinder her doing worse
Never mind Cousin Anne,' said Gil
bert. q will stand between her and the
wind"
And what is to become Of me?" asked
Mariana
Lit Is not much matter what becomes
OF any of us for an hour" answered Pau
line. when we are outdoors in a rain
storm we are part of the storm it
self See the bough of that tree
swing in the wind. | am going
to swing my cloak in that same
way!" And with this selfforgetting mask
which now she had almost habitually come
| to wear, deceiving all about her into the
| idea OF her content, she ran with the 9TH
| ers down the hill and threaded the lower
streets, battling the gusts as they went, till
| they rested on the sea-wall, against which
| the white waves were beating, and over
which every few moments one broke in a
cataract Of flying foam, from which they
| fled with cries.
q should enjoy the storm So" said
Pauline in a lull, If l didn't always
think of some mackerel-man far out among
these shoals, the green seas washing over
| her slanting decks and her sailors cIinging
in the shrouds.n For it was not storm but
! fire that had robbed Pauline of earthly
| bliss
What makes you think of it then ~
| asked Mariana, with her pet shrug
She doesn't think of it. She makes a
picture of it, said Gilbert
The shadows had gathered and the
lights were Pickering in the town and in
the cottage above as they still fingered
there and told one another the tales of
| heroic adventure for which the coast was
famous. The rain had almost entirely
| ceased At intervals around them the
strokes Of the sea, the grinding of the