The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1875-08-12

most divine patience illuminated her face
perfect sweetness. If that freshness o
earliest youth was gone an aura of gentlel
loveliness 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
l. to see her, and no word of passion ever es
taped his teeth.
But today an easteriy storm was laying
low the darlings of the trellis and the wind
was whistling through the rivulet-runninc
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
town into fury of foam and mist where
all through the opening and shutting day.
light nothing could be discerped but the
flying silver horns of spray that flashed
upon the gloom and grayness. The fish.
ing schooners huddled in the harbot
faced the gale and detied Its terrors. One,
indeed, broke loose from her anchorage
ard dritted upon the beach; but it
was at point where her crew
easily saved themselves before the
waves, running their wild race and
leaping 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 GER
tain awful responsibility 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 stone-Or a young birch
tree" she added, with half laugh. For
it was Gilbert who used to compare her
with that gay and rustling thing; and, for
the rest, Pauline laughed a great deal to
hinder her doing worse.
Never mind, Cousin Anne" said Gil
bert Il will stand between her and the
wind''
"And what is to become of me?" asked
Mariana.
1t 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 sclffOrgetting 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.
II should enjoy the storm So" said
Pauline in lull, "if | didn't always
these shoals, the green seas washing over
her slanting decks and her sailors clinging
in the shrouds'' 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
picture of it," said Gilbert.
The shadows had gathered and the
lights were flickering 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
great pillows that bore down in broadsides
on the breaker, the shrek of the shelves of
sand as they tore away from the beach
made tumult in which all but fragments
of their speech was lost, so that their sto-
ries were a chiaro- oscuro of hint and of
suggestion that accentuated only the
strong points of their power 1t seemed
to Gilbert every now and then as some
new halflight struck it that Pauline's face
was unearthly in its beauty; and as Ma
riana saw him look and look again she |
invariably so tangled herself in her wind
blown cloak that he had then TO give all
his attention to raveling that great snarl |
As the darkness deepened the scene be-
came full of an unuttered sort of terror
that fascinated them to stay till suddenly |
it was illumined by dull red flash, that
in the instant of its being the waves and
the weather rose and smothered. 1t came
so full upon their faces that they all
blenched and drew back before it.
"a ship in distressw cried Gilbert.
"And close in shore"
"A ship in distress?" cried Pauline,
clasping her hands 1.-The packet ship
it must be.'
els she due?"
"Not quite. But without her reckoning
and the storm blowing her in-and all the
passengers for the North on board. Oh!
is there nothing to be done:" she ex-
claimed, while the wind blew the words
back between her teeth in a rough whisper.
"Half mile from the lighthouse she
must be drifting. She will strike nearer
shore. Half mile out in rushing sea-"
"You must take me home, Gilbert"
cried Mariana. "You and Pauline will
presently be swimming out to her with
ropes, | dare say And the wind will blow
me after you. Besides, it is dreadful"
al wonder,n said Gilbert, IF boat
can be launched
"Never in such a sea-" said Pauline.
"There they come down from the town
with their lanterns. What bold and hardy
fellows. Danger is their element" he
cried, proudly springing forward with
more enthusiasm than he often showed.
81 must 90 on with them," said Gilbert,
pausing a moment You will not be
afraid to run home without me?'
"And l, too" said Pauline, disregard
ing his last words, though, in spite of
herself, her announcement took the form
of entreaty.
"You9"
"Indeed, why not? You cannot tell the
service may be-"
"Dear girl, it is out of the question:
he said with hesitation, followed by quick
firmness.
Every well, will not trouble you,"
said Pauline, while asltdden burst of wind
and rain nearly snatched her off her feet.