The Morning herald., 1876-09-19
ANNIE MARSHALL'S DESTINY
BY FRANCES ACTON.
CHAPTER I.
WAITING FOR THE SHIP.

"The stars are with the vOyager,
Wherever he may sail
The moon is constant to her time;
The sun will never fall.
But follow, follow round the world,
The green earth and the sea,
80 love is with the lovers heart
wherever he may be."-HooD.
10 sung, or rather growled, old Matthew
Pengeily, as he paced along the cliffs, tele-
scope in hand, looked out upon the lower
inc inc sky and stormy sea. "Old Matthew"
be he was familiarity called by the good folks
of Looe and its environs F; but old he was
not spite of his gray hairs and weather.
beaten face. He was barely forty, though
4 casual observer would have set him
down for fifty at least but Matthew had
weathered many a storm and seen many
sorrow, and had grown in looks, if not in
heart, old before his time. He was known
far and wide as the bravest and trustiest
ofthe little band of coast-guard men sta
toned in that sequestered nook and many
shipwrecked mariner and storm-beaten
sailor, driven to what seemed certain
death, could tell with gratitude how the
ntrepid fellows on shore, under the guild
snce of his clear head and skilled hand,
had been, under Heaven, the means of
saving their lives. Matthew had never
married, to the surprise Of every one who
knew him (; he lived with sister older
himself, and than an orphan girl whom
they had brought up. Twelve years
before, when he had been in the service
but little time, terrible storm drove a
small coasting vessel ashore on the reefs
below Downderry, bet ween Plymouth ana
Looe, and Matthew, at the risk of his life,
had saved little child, the only rescued
creature, from the pitiless sea. She was
but six years old, and her father and
mother both were drowned. Matthew
took her home; and when he rose, q gray
haired man, from terrible illness brought
on by the peril of that awful night, little
Annie Marshall was running about their
humble home, veritable gleam Of SUM-
shine in the dullness Of their life. She
had no friends that they could find out,
and they had kept her, to find in her
gentle care and grateful service, bountiful
recompense for all that their benevolence
had done for her. She was q pretty, fair
GIRL with certain air of refinement about
her which accorded we'll with her delicate
features and slight form and she was
secretly envied by all the girls, and open
ly yadmired by all the lada, in the little
town. But Annie had no heart to give
any one, it was gone out of her keeping /;
thoug only herself and the happy possess
sor Of it knew her secret. David Bailey
was the son Of fisherman. who lived in
the next cottage to the Pengellys; and
being but a few years older than the
orphan girl, they had played together as
children,a and fallen in love with each other
as lad and lass. He was at sea now; with
his growing love had grown ambition too +;
and he wanted to make more money than
he could gather at his trade. His parents
mad sorrowed over his leaving them at first,
but supplemented dwellers by the sea,
who draw their daily brea from the deep
waters, are used to partings like this ;
the ocean to them, is high road to life and
Independence, and they consign their best
and dearest to its keeping with honest
prayers and subdued sorrow. But David
was coming home now from q long voyage,
might be expected any time he had
arrived safely in Liverpool, and from
mence he had written to say that he was
gong to give an old acquaintance hand
IN his schooner, and that they should be
Looe in few days, wind and weather
permitting. Annie's heart beat high with
nope and expectation David would tell
IaAlew and his sister of their love, and
she should be his wife. Her head was
lull OF bright visions for the future on this
.,'o;sny .';s evening as she tripped along the
slln road to where Matthew paced up and
%s9vn, singing to the sea and sky. Now
Aassnew had secret too, which Annie in
aef simplicity had no suspicion of-he
lovsd her, this rugged coast-guardsman;
sl'h his rough speech apd weather-beaten
h%ee-leved H., her with all his great honest ;
uuI with all his bravery, he lacked the
courage to tell of it. She was in his
thoughts now, as he mused and sang, and
tOoked seward to where the bright CLEAN
son non. the Eddystone shone fitfully over the
troubled sea. cts coming up stihish," he
miuilmonred, fright from the sou-west; Pm
Ssa It's not Dick Hanway's watch to-
WE IIEns ne getting past his work, he is.
"My, ny, Annie, lass, is that you?" W.
les, it's me-" said the girl who had
,vme vo up close behind him. I've brought
your things see."
oos eae held up little basket and woolen
sUm'orter U"n as she spoke. "Auntie Joan
~ss,a "ss afraid l should be blown away but !
wv touio come. l like the wild wind and
s,l S1 loashlnng sea, though it did take my
.;.I aIst and mother from me" she added,
vnna sa sadder look ceming over her bright
but it ssvsyou 70 ms, Annie, instsad,' 4
Z. t.s Atsk yl :li