Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1878-10-22

our troubles over"
raised myself up with groan. and
tried to gain my feet, but fell back ex-
hausted. The scene about me filed me
with terror; the thought of drowning
helpless in this raging gulf of waters had
an ineffsble bitterness for me.
"Willie," said Jennie once more in my
ear, "if you get safe ashore, will you
give my love to father P"
Then found that was lying beneath
the shelter of the poop-deck, protected q
little from the seas that were breaking
over us, and that life-belt was fastened
under my arms. Jennie was croucbing
beside me, chafing my temples and
hands.
The few minutes that elapsed before
we struck seemed au age. The wind be-
meath the cljl WAS not so violent, and the
back trent of the waves kept Us mo-
ment away from the rocks which we al
most touched. But the respite was not
long; we grounded on an out.running
spit of rock, and instantly the sea made
clean sweep over US, carrying away
mssts, spars, rigging-overything went
by the board. had seized Jennie at the
moment of striking and we were hurried
away together in hideous trough OF
cordage and timber. Dashed violently
against mass OF slippery chalk, which
afforded no purchase OF hand or foot, |
lay there fairly exhausted, expecting ev-
cry moment the return OF the wave that
would sweep US back into the gulf, when
l thought saw face peeriDg anxiously
over the waters. 1t was deusion, one
of the hallucinations Of approaching
death. Next moment we we're covered
with binding surge, and great green
wave swept over us, driving us pell-mell
before it with ino onceivable fury. lost
my senses for while, to find myself
jammed in between two fragments OF
rock. Jennie was gone. l had lost my
hold of her, and she had been carried
away into the boiling gulf.
had nothing to expect myself but in
slant death. The next wave would wash
me out OF my hole, mere orevice in the
precipice. had ha dly strength enough
left to breathe, and could fight no longer
against my fate.
But though | was constantly covered
with surf, and nearly suffocsted, yet the
waves did not reach me with full force.
The tide was retiring.
Timo passed on, hardly knew how,
till the moon rose red and meDacing.
The tide was down now, but the surf
reached to the very base of the cliffs.
The flood would come presently, like a
lion to his half-devoured victim, and
should perish Then l heard voices be-
low me, and saw by the moonlight some
men draped 10 short smt * or blouses,
grop'ng about among the rocks beneath
me. They we're countrymen, evidently,
who had been attracted by the wreck,
and who had found their way down the
cliffs by some concealed foot. path. |
shouted-they heard me, and clambered
to my retreat. They carried me along
the base of the cliffs by toot-path among
the debris. Till they reached a smooth gap
in the wall OF chalk, by which they as
cended. | was presently carried TO a
house. stripped. and placed in q warm
bed, rC ,ollect Just this much and then
memory fails me. | had long illness.
| am told, and was near deaths door, but
recovered at last. and found myself the
guest OF worthy Norman farmer, who
occupied charming little homestead on
the heights above the sea.
As soon as l could get about, went
down to Havre to inquire about the
Petrol, at our consulate. She was lost.
| was told ,on such and such a night, with
all hands on board at the time. The
captain had returned home two months
ago. / determined % 60 home at once,
and leave place so fraught TO me with
sad memories.
Now that Jennie was lost to me forev-
er, realized how much she had been 10
me. Her kindness, her courage, her de-
votion, her charming gaiety and snima-
tion, recalled themselves to me, and /
told myself that l should never see her
like again. l inquired as to her last rest
ing place. Only two of the bodies had
been found it seemed-those of the cook
and black cabin boy.
Well. it remained only for me to re-
turn to England, a saddened, melancholy
man. | left my watch with the good
farmer who had taken care OF me, as
some recompense Tor the trouble and eI-
pense to which he had been put. The
captain of the John Bull gave me credit
for my passage-money. and landed at
st. Katherine's wharf without clothes but
those | wore. sadly stained with ses
water, and with only few shillings in
my pocket. But there was money due to
me for my pension, couple of quarters
now, and | took cab to the payma ster-
generals office to get it.
William Thornly," said the clerk,