The Worthington advance., 1878-11-21

more light il tho last cry Of tho spirit in |
extremity. And now it seemed q though
nature had determined to spare me no
pang of all the gathering horrors of my
doom. Darkness and despair were set
Ting down upon my soul.
Then came the storm once more with
rush Of gathered rain, howl, shout,
roar of triumph - the shrill wind trump
eted past, precurso: of q more furious
blast. l could bear no o'more. A sapless
nervcless form I was, swept from the
beam like q withered leaf from branch,
and l fell, catching at some crossbeams
as I fell, but losing my hold in moment
and dropping he'plessly down. Once
more consciousness returned. A vague.
silvery light was diffused about me, above
were stars shining, huge balks of timber
glimmered overhead. l was stretched
upon bed Of wet sand, lying on my
back, looking up into the sky. Twas not
dead, then. No! Was manned, crush
ed2 drew up ono limb after another,
fearing least sudden shout of agony
should betray some grievous hurt. But
mol was sound in limb; and as raised
myself and looked about felt that, ex-
cept in the dizziness and wonderful
ringing that was ceaselesslv going on in
nv head. I was unhurt. And I was
saved9 Ttat was as might happen.
When rose and stood upon my feet
looked around me, and fund that I
had fallen upon a 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, as she parted her way among the
fast driving clouds.
Distantly across tho waters shone the
lights of the little town. I saw in its gas
lamps, which sparkled brilliantly in tie
night, and from out of the rocks which
showed against the sky line, here and
there the soft light of candle in a cot.
tage window cleaned like fairy lamp
On the other side of the estuary there
were no lights, but the straiuing eye
might discern the gloom OF high hills
that seemed, indeed, only like some dark
some chasms in the sky; but as watched
I 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 hoofi
and the murmur OF wheels rising and
failing as the road wound in and ou
among the rocks further or nearer. I,
was some carriage rolling rapidly towarG
home-toward my home, and here was l
q castaway.
l shouted, but my voice seemed lost il
the great space. The wind carried it W
the river, and blew it away into stiaet
fragments. It was useless to cry no ont
would hear me. How long should I hav'
to livcs Was there any chance that
might escape? I could not swim; tn
channel on either side was, thel efore, d,
impossible barrier. Even had been al
excellent swimmer, doubt if, in my en-
feebled state,1 could have won the furthe
bank of the channel, where the curren
was running the leas; swiftly. Ho'
long would my island remain uncovered
by the sca2
Six or eight feet above my head tangl
ed masses of seawecds hanging in the in
} terstices of the woodwork, showed t.
highest reach of the cbb had commence,
an hour before l started from Aberma1
Allowing an hour for my subsequent ad
ventures, the cbb would still have .thre
hours to run; then another three hour
} would elapse before the tide would reac
me. l remembered that had flask Q
metal in my pocket which still contaiuc
!; dram of brandy, and then I had fev
fragments of biscuit remaining of som
that my wife had packed for my use
couple of days before. I drank tn
brandy and munched the biscuit and fel
again hopeful. Six hoursa Why, in tha
time help might come. Death was n
. longer imminent
But I was entirely wrong. The stron
southwestcrly gales had piled up the wa,
ers about the mouth OF the estuary, S
} that tine ebb was checked and the tloc
increased and the tide ran out only som
, three hours. l must hvve been longer o
the sand, too, than had calculated, fe
/, az l watched the waters hurrylng .dow
S on each side of me, noticed the curren
( seemed to slacken all of sudden; the
: it stopped, so that fragment OF bleact
ed wooI that was floating downwar
a come to rest, then moved slowly ono
}, more upwards. The tide was turned.
| In very short time tie vast expans
r of waters before me, that had just no
| seemed a broad river outlet, scored an
;, marked with sand banks, assumed the al
i petrance of an agitated sea. Short wav
: hurried along, their white crests CLEAN
t ing the moonlight; they came in serrje
r lines, tier over tier; the hoar roar of Il
advancing tide reverberated in the al
t mingling in my brain with the strant
l. rattle as.of bells that would never cea
d tQjingle therein: How remorseless th'
/. seemed, these waves, hurrying up lii
n hounds who view their prey. And yet
i. was solemn scene; and wha. there "
d of dignity and grandeur in the sig t be
It re:oncilcd me to the thought that i,
Is life would be swallowed up ere long
Il these advancing batallions of serrie
|e waves, for now the bitterness of death W
passed its terrors had vanished; felt
= profound sadness-that was all.
e. How far could I climb up the slim
l slippery posts and buttresses that seem,
n to mock me with their lying proffers
n safety2 A couple of cross-beams or ii
l which bound together the lower ends
q the piers afforded at their intersection
/ sort angular resting place, where
y could, for time, perhaps, find refu!
t from the waves. This was far below hi;
e water mark, 50 that to reach it wou1
- only give me short respite from II
I final agony; but for all that I determine
7 to attemptit As soon as the water CO
d cred the little island on which stood
e would try to Climb that slippery bea
" that rose from the sand, in which it "
e partly buried, at an angle of about tort
o five degrees.
With the tide rose the wind; with t
e wind came rain and fog. The moo
?, blurred and indistinct, shown family
: awhile, and then vanished altogether,
70 | -. l:c...a.J 1:.ls ~.>.l.