The Beaufort tribune and Port Royal commercial. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1877-1879, 1877-03-08

and crashing down on the retreating
line of breakers before. They could not
have told, as they gazed, where sky end
ed and water began; and only dimly, far
out in the bank of opening and closing
vapor, could they discern the phantom
like outline of a bark with broken masts
drifting helplessly in-a shapeless hulk,
from which every now and then came
the awful thud of minute gun.
"She will drift into the cove, and 60
to pieces on the inner breaker" said Mr..
Brenton. "Soon, at this rate of tide.
There 90 the hook and-ladder boys" as
the gallant fremen, who usually took
upon themselves the part of salvation at
a wreck, raced bly, g Rockets and lines
enough in the life station p' shouted Mr..
Brenton, though the wind blew the
words down his throat "Ishan leave
YOU in the tavern with Mr.. Charles, "
said he to his wife, "while I go down
and have look at things" And pres
emily the little inn came in sight behind
it's bulwark of sandhills, and they were
driving into the yard.
But what a desolation was the inn
and its surroundings The sign and
the flagstaff had been prostrated by the
gale, and the yard was q sheet OF
salt water, in which all the debris of
the place, the pigs, the dogs and
the buckets, were promiscuously SWIM
ming. The piazza was under water, the
lower floor of the house was all adoat,
the underpinning of the sheds and tie
ups had given way, and the buildings
were leaning to their fall, while the old
wind whitened willows looked like
witches with their gowns tucked up as
they stood in the overflow. Mr.. Bren-
ton drove close to the bulwark of the
sandhills, left his wife in the phaeton,
and leaped out upon the sand, climbed
the low mound, and ran down where the
men had clustered and were at work
upon the best they knew to save the
wreck.
o Standing up in the carriage, Mrs.
Brenton could see all that went forward
below, could see the broad chest of the
sea feathered in thousand plumes of
snow, while she felt the shock of every
surge of the boiling surf, and trembled
every time the great spouts of foam went
flying high as clouds where the ledge
ran out to meet the open fury OF the
Hastings pillows. She could see, too,
the dead pail of the sky lift, shade by
shade, as the wind went hauling round
ITO the south could see the parting OF
that yapor bank with the first full puff
from the south, and the wreck starting
pout like sudden creation, black with its
/ ruin on all that tumultuous gray and
silver, still slowly rising and falling and
drifting in with the tide. When she
turned her head she could see, also, the
life in the inn yard, in curious prosalc
contrast in the tragic terror just beyond.
Not that you. could call it everyday life,
because it was not every day that the
little pigs were swimming ronnd I'D the
barnyartl, squealing as the Newfound-
land SWAN after them and grappled an
ear it was not every day that the good
taverner, Mr.. Charles, was wading about
in his top boots, inspecting the general
rout, of only fraction of which he was
vet aware, rubbing his hands, and con-
ducting himself as if to have ones house
and goods afioat was little occasional
eccentricity on the part Of Providence
with which one must put up.
Then she turned her head and saw the
wreck again, still drawing near and
nearer her dreadful doom with every
throb of the surf, while the men ran to
and fro upon the shore, and the red stars
of the rockets one after one went shoot
ing out and falling short of their mark.
1t seemed to Mrs. Brenton that she could
even see the people crowded on the deck;
she fancied one figure was woman with
child in her arms, woman standing
Just as she had stood Oh that black, that
horrid night, when the sea snatched her
darlings from her clasp. An agony OF
pity oqercame her as she thought these
people could probably see her there in
safety while. death was believing for
them. She sat down moment and
covered her eyes the sight and the
memory were too much for her; :nstinc-
tive prayers rose to her lips for the safety
of the wretches driving on SO surely to
destruction before she knew it she was
praying for that mother with the little
child in her arms, was praying with all
her heart for the little child.
OF sudden, as she sat there with hel
eyes closed, there was a shock as If the
sky had fallen and the earth had risen tc
meet it she sprang to her feet, and saw
that the wreck had struck, had struck
and parted, and wild, wild wail,
chorus of despair, rose above the beat
ing of the waves.
Nh. Charles waded out to where the
phaeton stood up to its floor in water, on
one side of the yard, and handed her his
long spyglass. As she steadied it ano
gazed with aching eyes at the horror,
there came one of those mighty throes
of the tide when the whole sea seems tc
be heaved from its bed; the partec
wreck heaved with it, far, far up; a cry
like the ghost of the first cry was heard
sweeping out and away, and in another
moment there was nothing to be seen,
neither wreck nor people {; they were as
ut arly gone as if they had never been.
:. long swift searching of the sea, and
then Mrs. Brenton leaped from the car
rage to the sand, climbed the mound
and ran down the beach as fast as the
furious wind that swirled her clothes
aboat her would allow.
Don't you see it she cried to hel
husband, breaking in among the knot OF
men who had been vainly trying tc
launch the lifeboat. 81 have hardly
b 10 {ha la1&