The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1876-10-05

t " ~" oNtotE Sttohtb VI
his arm might have rescued and saved
me. l do not know. Louis was no
swimmer; and, besides, that was not
his way of doing things. His was a de-
Iberate and thoughtful rather than a
rash and venturesome nature. He call
ed to me eagerly that he was going for
help; l should wait; l should drop the
oar; in a few moments he would get a
boat. l saw him fastening along the
shore at the top Of his speed; l saw the
solitary shore, the deserted fisher buts,
the far stretches of sand he would have
to travel before reaching the little fish.
ing village; l saw it all, but dimly now,
for was floating further and further
away.
YEARLY l dropped the oar and sank
back in the boat. Surely 1 need do
nothing more. oh, surely Louis would
rescue me! he would not let me die
alone within reach Of his loving
arms! Night was creeping on,
with twilight on its garments hem. l
could see that lone and shadowy
ship lying at anchor beyond the bar. II
only could reach that ship! But the
current would drift me past her in an
instant. Wildly and longingly now |
called for help, stretching my arms out
yearningly toward that silent vessel;
but nothing answered me. The shore
had grown far and dim, and dimly,
strangely the stars coming out with
their unfamiliar beauty made me afraid.
Sad, solitary, and deserted, was | GO
ing to my death out of all that bright
afternoon, that overlooking love, that
fullness of life and pleasure proilered
meP
AfraidP Well, yes, | was afraid for
one brief moment, as / covered back
into the boat, shrinking in the solitude
of the awful waste of waters, a fear of
that unknown world into which | SEEM
ed sailing oppressed me. But | be-
thought myself that if l must die, it
were better to die bravely. Perhaps |
was going to meet Jim. If he were in
that other world, that ought to be Il
CHEEKY thought. No doubt he died
bravely. But waS he deadP Jim, my
old stanch friend, whose glad good
face had frightened my wretched child
hood, oh, where WaS hep
1t is said that in the hour OF death
the memory of past events is prefer
naturally vivid. And as my mind re-
verted to those old days, forgetting my
later life, forgetting my later friends,
and forgetting Louis, | felt sure that |
was going to die. A trance of peace
fell upon me, in which l seemed to
clasp Jim's warm hand again, as in
days of old. Jim! jim! called aloud,
rousing myself as from a dream, yet
dreaming still. But nothing answered
me. The darkness was growing deep
err, the current more rapid, and Louis,
with his soft taper fingers, would never
reach me now.
Unconscious, half delirious, l must
have been, perhaps, for it seemed to
me that Jim, on whose name | called,
was a spirit, and that his presence,
somewhere near me, was upholding me
in this hour of need, as | drifted further
and further away from all earthly
help. How long, | know not how far,
| know not it seemed to me | had been
on the way all eternity, and Had |
or had | moi heard through that death
dream an answering cryP Did | or did
| no see mistily, as through a vail, the
spars and shrouds of that silent vessel
that had stood afar off, watching my
struggle with deathP And, Great God!
WaS it Jim's face-dear old Jim's face
bending over me, and was this
heavenP
"My DEAR" said Mrs. Belden, COM
ing into my room one morning, "you
are getting quite strong again the sea
air has done you u world of good-in
fact, you look better, | think, than be.
fore your accident. l am thinking we
may as well return to the city as soon
as you like"
l was lying on a couch by the window
looking out upon the sea.
"Well," said l, absently, in a half
reverie.
"You feel quite strong, do you rot,
dearP"
"Oh yes, ma'am," said l, rousing
myself; "quite strong-stronger than
ever"
l was stronger than ever; since that
night when Jim saved my life, SWIM
ming out to my sinking boat against the
current, and risking his life to help an
unknown wait, unwilling that it was his
little nursing of old who was in deadly
peril-since that night a world of new
thoughts had come crowding in upon
me, soaring me with their strength, and
making me ashamed of the idle silken
life l was leading. l know not what
premonition of change, of Punishment,
was Juggling at my heart this morning
as looked out over the cleaning
waters, and filled my eyes with tears.
"You are sorry to leave the sea-
shoreP" said Mrs. Belden.
81 was thinking Of jim" said I, hon
estly. "Hew can l leave JimP"
Mrs. Belden's face flushed.
~"Jenny," said she, severely, "of
course we all think a deal of your sailor
friend for saving your life; but you
must be aware that he is no fit compan-
ion for you, and that his constant at
tendance upon you since that accident
has been matter Of much annoyance
both to myself and Louis"
At that moment Louis's tall figure
appeared at the door; a queer smile was
on his pale, thin face, as holding out
his long, white hand to me, he said