Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1882-03-29
KENNETH'S TREASURE.

There were dangerous pits IN the
homeward path over the cliff, and as
the moon plunged deeper in the clouds,
and the solitary foot-passengers became
fewer, Kenneth Darcy thanked the res
olution that had prompted him to leave
the merry making inn before the taste
of his lordship's wine might have made
his head unsteady.
The day had been spent in festivities
which would long be remembered in
the country, and the peasantry declar-
ed, one and all, that the coming Of age
of Lord Dunraven's only son had been
celebrated in way BETTING the occa-
sion.
Kenneth, trudging along, thought
with pride of how, among the many
assembled rustic lasses, one whose name
was most dear to him had been the
acknowledged belle of all. Even Lady
Constance, who had seen beautiful statu-
airy and pictures in Italy, had declared
that Bessie Deans face ought to live
forever in marble or on canvass.
And Bessie had been so winning and
gracious to Kenneth all that day-in
the presence of his rivals, too; for
falling in love with the prettiest girl in
the county, encountered, Of course,
many other aspirants for her favor.
Robert Logan, with his saucy, bold
ways, and his prospect Of a fortune to
be made in far Off gold country,
seemed like the hawk which at any
moment might steal away Kenneth's
beautiful white dove. Bessie's face was
her only fortune, and with Kenneth
she would be poor mans wife, and
he thought she deserved better.
During the summer months Kenneth
added to his small means by serving
alternate nights at certain lighthouse
on the Giants Causway, and it was to
that lonely spot he was vending his
way after Lord Dunraven's fetc.
AS the path grew sleeper and darker,
Kenneth rested to recover breath on
one of the many powders that impsded
his way; he could hear the waves
seathing against the rocks below, and
he wished he had not refused the Ian
tern offered him at the inn; rs he set
out tho moonlight seemed so certain,
but now scarcely q ray was left to
guide him.
Between the point of the rock called
Murray's Reef and the last turning,
there was a dangerous break in the
path once beyond this Kenneth would
breath more freely, and begin again
the merry whist lie with which he start
ed forth. Ahead, he could see the
faint glimmer from the lighthouse, the
bacon, in its slow revolutions, seeming
to wink at him through the darkness.
A few steps more, and the unpleasant
conviction came over Kenneth that he
had wandered little from the right
path. 1t was dangerous time to try
experiments, and he would retrace his
steps. He turned, confused and be-
wildered, stepped backwards, and the
next minute hung over the precipice,
his hands clutching frantically the
ragged trunk of tree growing short
distance below the edge.
The moment was an awful ONE
Alone, he could not draw himself up
to the path, and far below him lay the
seething sea, with its bed of cruel
rocks.
1t was terrible strain on his hands;
FIVE minutes was the utmost that he
could endure it.. and there was no help
near. He thought of Bessie's pretty
eyes filled with tears when she heard of
his fate, and great wave of pity for
himself and the beautiful world he
must leave. came over him. Suddenly
he remembered the little memorandum
book in his breast pocket, telling of a
little store of money, his savings for
years, reward paid in few valuable
coins, by Swedish merchant whom he
had saved from drowning, and small
legacy left him by distant relative.
The little book need not drown ito
secret with the owner, so with an effort
that told greatly on his fast ebbing
strength, Kenneth flung it above his
head to the path from which he had
fallen. His arms now trembled with O
faintness he could no longer resist, and
with Bessie's name auttering on his
lips, and her sweet face before him
with strange distinctness, Kenneth, with
a last sigh, let 90 his hold and fell back
insensible into dark gulf
During the day the paths about the
lighthouse we're much frequented, as af-
fording valuable hooks for fishing, and
views of the ocean steamers. At day
break Robert Logan, with tackle in
hand, made his way over the path
which thu nioht before had proved "a