The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-10-10

and the dancing? There were none to
say. No one had spoken her; and search
the horizon with burning eyes, no sign OF
her white sail, her golden pennon, was to
be seen.
And day followed day the same. And a
thrill of horror went to more hearts than
one at the thought of the gay party going
down with flags flying, and the world
that had known them suspended for a
little its festivity, or turned its mourn
ing into pleasure by yachting up and
down the coast in search, putting into
harbor every sundown. But when ten
days had passed, with most doubt had
settled into certainty, and the little world
was taking on its old ways again. Only
they missed the tawny beauty of the Per-
cival girl on the drive, the reckless dash
of De Luyster, the solemn stiffness of old
Montmorency, they missed, indeed, tha,
airy vision of unreal beauty whose alb
sence made the place desert; at least it
did to me. The Rittener villa, dark as
any Jail, no longer with snowy clouds
blowing from the windows, no longer
with gay groups upon its lawn, seemed to
mock the blooming of the flowers that
lifted their scarlet and gold azure gayly
as ever to the indifferent skies from bed
and vase and urn.
"And 50 they're giving up the Flight,
| hear" said old Simpson, the lobster
man, as l wandered down the beach
haunted all day long, and where he bad
looked up at me SO often with reassuring
eyes, as he mended his nets or tumbled
out his wiggling load. swell, don't you
be any mans fool, sir, and follow such
suit, he said. "Ben. Burnharm was
never at the hellum for nothing. When
Ben. Burnham piloted in Boston Bay,
and knew he couldn't make Highland
Light, he put her hellum hard down and
scud for Squam. He was in blue water
before the first whisper Of that gale, sir,
and he's been there before and often, in
like cases; and when he is, he heads for
the Bermudies, sir. And you'll be find
ing, when the Flight comes in, with all
her linen stretched, that they've been
rambling over the Bermudies while
they've been eating your heart out, sir"
Poor fooll At that moment | stopped
to pull bit of sea-weed, ribbon of the
dulse from the wave breaking at my
feet-it was the little golden pennon of
the Flight!
There was nothing more to say, I held
it up before his gaping face. The world
turned black-I reeled away, and hid
myself that day. My darling! My darl-
ing! While l had been painting these
treacherous seas, she had been in their
deadly grasp she had gone down their
black depth-and with him For all
eternity with him! While | had Tested
in sunshine, she had passed the great
agony-she so young, so fair, innocent!
She had died while rage was in my heart
for her sweet sake. l held out my arm
to nothingness; my heart beat with mere
pangs. If might die myself, if 1 might
have but one hour, one moment of this
eternity, to beg her to forgive me, and
then to accept nihility for all the rest.
All, for one word! Where was she? In
what upper regions, what regions of light?
l opened my eyes, as lay there in the
evening dusk gazing up awkward and
the idle thought came, as idle thoughts
alight on one perhaps in the very death
struggle, that at that moment there was
nothing in the universe between me and
Lyra Vega. The great blue star shone
over me
Did great blue stars have faces, then
fair faces with faint rose fushes, with
soft baby hair blowing round them, with
tears with eyes like stars themselves, with
lips full Of warm, fragrant kisses? Did
stars descend out of the far night sky
and fashion themselves into such crea-
tions as this sweet and sobbing thing that
all at once held in my pulsating arms?
lad gone wild myself, or did any great
blue star of all in Heaven wear Stella's
face?
l was walking on that beach month
later, with my wife's hand in mine, when
old Ben. Simpson looked up from his
nets, over which we had nearly tumbled,
and, grinning, touched his forelock.
"You see, | told you, sir" said ne, "there
was no need to worry with Ben. Burn
ham at the hellumv'