Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-01-28
pailu Aaanebsf senrml,
Amt SUES PANIC.
CONCLUDED FROM YESTERDAY

CONCLUDED FROM YESTERDAY.
The day as have said. was hot and
steamy; but in the evening the air became
delightful, and we went down as usual to
enjoy it upon the breekwater of the little
harbor. Even then there was not breath
of wind, and though the tide was up. moi
a single one of all the fishing vessels had
yetreturned. We saw the struggling flee
makingitheir way home, indeed, but long
distance off, and they seemed to get no
nearer; the broad blue sea was licked
with their sails, as the sky is sometimes
dotted by lines of wild geese changing 70
their homes, only in this case there was no
noise. The flowing wave sighed family
as it reached the stone beneath US, Ike
some exhausted swimmer who gains inc
shore with his last gasp. Inc tiny nag
upon the roof top above us could not nap
but hung heavily upon its staff. lhere
were no other persons about the maroon
but ourselves, but the witchery OF the scent
stilled our talk, and little Babas pfattle
was the only sound that broke the silence
of the sea or shore. After while 1t be-
came the child's bedtime, and Lucy arose
to accompany him 10 the inn. AS ex-
pressed my intention OF remaining, rank
kindly offered 10 stay with me; but
knew how great was the attractions Tor him
of seing Bahia in his bed, and at his pray
ers, so would not permit him to do SO.
"Clovenly is very queer place" said L.,
'ard its sailors are very enterprlslng; put
don't think that any body-even in Clio
velly-will think of running away with
your Aunt Sue.'' And SO was left alone.
In that still summer night. with the quiet
stars shining above ME, and below me
for the great deep was like mirrror-an
old woman like myself, you may say,
reader, might have occupied her thoughts
to better purpose; but instead of reflect
ing upon the transitores OF life, aud my
latter days, confess they were principal
" fixed ON certain picnic that was TO
take place on the morrow. had be-
spoken some cold meat and potted trout;
but was bent, ii possible, on securing
some fruit, principally on the child's ac-
count, and as surprise.
Well, l had settled in nv own mind
about the fruit, and also which cushion OF
the sofa in our little sitting-room would
best suit to prop dear Lucy's back in the
somewhat jolting carriage which we had
engaged for the morrow, and was slowly
toiling up the steps to the inn, when this
occurred.
Half way up the steps. there is an an
cient archway occupied as dwelling
house, here l stopped to gather breath for
the remainder OF the ascent. 1t was al
most dark by this time, and standing in
the shadow of the arch, was quite invis-
ible to any passer-by who should not alb
solutely touch me. / had scarcely reach
ed this resting place when my ear was
struck by the faint and suppressed sobs OF a
woman. She was evidently in some room
on the other side of the wall against which
/ leaned, and but for it | could have
touched her with my hand.
dead, dead, dead P" she moaned.
"Oh, what shall we do without our bread
winner P"
was about to knock at the cottage door.
to see If could be of any sort OF comfort
to this poor bereaved creature, when
heard the step of man coming down the
hill, SO unsteady that could not but con-
clude that he was in liquor; such an occur
renee is not an unexampled one in fish
ing village, but have a particular horror
OF a drunken person, and therefore shrank
quickly back into my corner. The man
came on, and stopped at the very door at
WHICH udu UeSu dUOub W huOSh.
"ln tears! Why, what's the matter,
lassp" ! heard him say.
"Matter enough man." returned she, in
heart rendering tones. "Our Polly deadn'
And once more she burst into sObs.
"DeadP' repeated he, in dull, dazed
way, as though he could not picture to
himself the dread reality. DON'T say
she's dead.'
Hush! Don't speak so loud man.
Yes, she is dead, and dead OF" And
here she appeared to whisper something
in his ear.
Great Heaven, What was it that the
poor woman had died of, that those two
should be so secret about it? A terrible
conviction flashed upon me that the hideous
disease of which Frank and had spoken
that very morning had actually broken
out. in the place of all others where we
had most cause to fear it.
you will not breathe word about it,
Alec" continued. the sobbing voice. at
is bad enough as it is; but il it comes to
be known how she came by her end, it
will be even worse"
For an instant it struck me that the poor
creature whose death they were discuss
ing had been put out Of the world by foul
play, and such is the selfshness Of human
nature Ohough. to do me justice, the
thankfuness would not have been on my
own account.) that should have been al
most thankful for such solution OF the
affair. The next few words, however,
convinced me of my mistake.
''Can / see herP' inquired the man,
gravely, his fuddled brains appeared to
have become cleared little 10y the great
ness of his loss. M had thought her to
have been SO bad. would not have gone
up street to the alehouse."
"You couldn't haves saved her, Alec;
naught could have saved her, and naught
but harm could come now OF going to
look at her. The only thing to be done is
TO keep all quiet. She is heavy loss to
US and the BARNS; but we shall be well
nigh ruined if the inn folks should be
frightened away from US.
The inn folks Here was family who
evidently derived their living from the
customers at the inn. The man perhaps
had boat for hire; the woman doubtless
took in the washing of The vistors-our
washing amongst others. Whether it