Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-11-17

vet there was no hope of escape-none.
1t was only question of moments how
long, with stifening limbs, could cling
to this rough beam, then a plunge into
the darkness.
Still I had time to think. What were
my thoughts? A helpless sense ofcruelty.
of the horrible unteelingness and malig-
nifty Of the hurting wind, of the raging
waters. A sad modification, too. and
sense OF Injustice, that should loose my
life for nothing; a pleasant ramble turned
to such an evil end Ofthe pas. thought
nothing; it was nothing to me nova
tale that was told; that was all. Of the
future, nothing, either, excepting a dim
and awful wonder. But plainly, wildly
berore my eyes saw the figure of my
wife, sitting at work by the fire, waiting
and watching for me-for me who never
should come. That was the bitterness of
it. And yet withal was not unconscious
of certain vague sense Of the ludicrous
of myself, that I should be thus stuck
up astride beam. like some lad at play,
sport for the buffetings Of the elements.
With this. 100, an unspeakable rage, a
kind of crushed defiance. a revolt against
the doom which was imminent--a revolt
which felt itself hopeless and useless
from its beginning.
While all this storm of conflicting
thoughts was whirling through nv
brain, the turmoil outside was diminish
ing. The wind had hushed for awhile, ard
across my face for a moment a sort of
ruddy glow, the last beams of the sun
setting rapidly into the sea. The vapors
divided for moment the huge dark mass
OF mountain frowned down upon me-
for moment only-then the clouds en-
comprised me once more, the glow died
away, the awful gloom gray OF night be-
gan to gather in upon me like vast
net.
Should drop into the sea and end it
all. To die in the dark would be more
horrible than ANYTHING else. Even on
the 4uietest and most resigned deathbeds
the loss of LIGHT is the most disquieting
trouble to tue departing soul. Light
more light! is the last cry of the spirit in
extremity. And now it seemed as though
nature had determined to spare me no
parg of all the gathering horrors of nv
doom. Darkness and despair were set
ting down upon my soul.
Then came the storm once more with a
rush Of gathered rain, howl, a shout, q
roar Of triumph as the shrill wind trump
eted past, precurso- of more furious
blast. could bear no more. A sapless
nerveless form was, swept from the
beam like withered leaf from branch,
and | fell, catching at some crossbeams
as fell, but losing my hold in a moment
and dropping helplessly down. Once
more consciousness returned. A vague.
silvery light was diffused about me, above
were stars shining, huge balks of timber
glimmered overhead. I was stretched
upon bed Of wet sand, lying on nv
back, looking up into the sky. Twas not
dead, then. No! Was MANNED, crush
ed! drew up one limb after another,
fearing least a sudden shout of agony
should betray some grievous hurt. But
no! was sound in limb; and as raised
myself and looked about I felt that, OK
cept in the dizziness and wonderful
ringing that was ceaselesslv going on in
nv head, I was unhurt And was
saved! That was as might happen.
When | rose and stood upon nv feet
| looked around me, and found that l
had fallen upon little island, narrow
spit of sand that had formed in the eddy
caused by the pier of the bridge. On
each side of it ran strong and rapid
current. All this saw by the light of
The moon, sometimes bright, sometimes
obscure, IS she parted her way among the
fast driving clouds.
Dlstantly across the waters shone the
lights Of the little town. | saw in its GAS
lamps, which sparkled brilliantly in the
night, ane from out of the rocks which
showed against the sky line, here and
there the soft light of a candle in cot
tage window cleaned like fairy lamp.
On the other side of the estuary there
were no lights, but the straining eye
might discern the gloom OF high hills,
that seemed, indeed, only like some dark.
some chasms in the sky; but as l watched
| saw tiny star that was gliding among
the rocks. Now seen, now lost. ! follow.
ed it with longing eyes, and listening in
tently heard the clatter of horses, hoofs
and the murmur OF wheels rising and
failing as the road wound in and out
among the rocks further or nearer. It
was some carriage rolling rapidly toward
home-toward my home, and here was /,
q castaway.
/ shouted, but my voice seemed lost in
the great space. The wind carried it up
the river, and blew it away into stified
fragments. l. was useless to cry; no one
would hear me. How long should have
to hve2 Was there any chance that |
might escape? could not swim: the
channel on either side was, therefore, an
impossible barrier. Even had been an
excellent swimmer, doubt if, in my en-
feebled state, could have won the further
bank of the channel, where the current
was running the least swiftly. How
long would my island remain uncovered
by the sea?
Six or eight feet above my head tangl-
ed masses of seaweeds hanging in the In.
terstices Of the woodwork, showed t e
highest reach of the ebb had commenced
an hour before started from Abermaw.
Allowing an hour for my subsequent adj
ventures, the ebb would still have three
hours to run; then another three hours
would clause before the tide would reach
me. I remembered that I had a flask of
metal in my pocket which still contaiued
"a 6ran of brandy op1 fba-, boJ !, g.,