Maryland independent. [volume] (Port Tobacco, Md.) 1874-current, 1883-05-04

so for two or three hours. This was
what had happened to him now.
And the second thought was her dar-
ling. William Barstow was out on
that terrible sea, and there was ne
light to guide him to port. Strange
that she had not thought before Yes.
1T was Tuesday. Was it Tuesday,
Yes, the very day he was
going down to Lockport with
Johnny Sowcr He was out ON
that sea somewhere in boat, which
could not live in it minute. y es, it
waste day he was going He and his
pretty little wife were talking:it over
sunday night She was lamenting,
half in sport and half in earnest, over
the lonesome day She would have, and
he promised to bring her honi6'a new
bonnet to cOnsol her. Yes. it was
Tuesday, and Jackson Reed had told
Abby Weaver about it yesterday that
was Monday. He had fotebSteh that
She was no longer so intapeaed in
| Willie Barstows movements. And
when he .old hi, wife What he had
done she scolded him for his thought
lessness.
es, It was Tuesday, and he was out
on that sea- and there was no light
lit. Nothing to keep him or Theses
terrible rocks that the light hail been
set there to show. All the strong.
baflled, but not suppressed nature of
the woman asserted itself with Terrible
force.
"Oh, my darling my darling! my
darling " she shreked, in a.yoice
which was in itself both a prayer and
a curse. You out thar, an all the
love in your mothers heart can't light
ye home Oh, the black water rollin'
over that beautiful face, an those
laughin' blue eyes that looked at me
when you was baby, an those black
curls I've brushed an those lips I've
kissed putin out tHat loyin' soul
Oh, Lord Lord Lord ->
She sat there shrieking on in a
strained, weak voice, half in prayer.
half in expostulation. The wind rose
higher and higher, and the sea thun-
dered louder and longer. A new ter
Tor seized her If her husband should
rcoyer from the bad turn which she
suspected he had had, and attempt to
cross that bridge now, he would be
killed too. God know what new rents
might be in it. When her sitting-room
clock changed out nine, aboTe'the roar
Of the storm, she went into perfect
fury of despair. Down she sank on
those old. rheumatic knees that had
not bent at her bidding for the last
five years, and prayed as she never had
before
In the midst of her agony a great
calm fell suddealy over her.
Il will go an light the lamp my
self, she said, in an awed voice, "an'
He will 60 with me-" Slowly Sarah
Reed arose on feet that had not borne
her weight for five years. Every
movement was excruciating torture,
but she paid no heed to it she seemed
10 feel it and yet be outside of it. She
realized, as it were, the separateness of
her soul and her spiritual agony from
all bodily pain.
She walked aross the floor, went
out into the entry, and CROPPED her way
up the narrow stairs leading to the
tower. She dragged herself up the
steep stairs with terrible determina-
tion. She slid apart the slide at the
! top and q blaze Of light almost blinded
I her The lamp was lit.
Sarah Reed might have floatcd down
those stairs, upborne on ang is wings
for all she knew Somehow, she was
back in her sltting-room, on her knees.
Her husband found her there. a half
hour later, when he staggered, pale as
death an drenched to the skin, into
the room.
Good Lord, Sarah, who lit the
lamp?' his first words were.
"The angel of the Lord" she an
swerel, solemnly, raising her gray
heal
al he'd turn over thar on the road,
'bouta mile out Of Rye I've jest come
to an got home. Seemed to me l
should die when | thought of William.
The bridge is pretty well broke up but
| hung on to the side. And, Lord
when saw that light burnin' l could
ha' come over a cobweb. Who camet to
light it, Sarah p
The angel of the Lord, she said,
again. Don't you ever say 1t ain
50, Jackson; don't you ever dare to try
to make me stop thinking 1850. I've
been askin the Lord all these years FOR
something to show me that lie was
anywhar, an lie has give it to me. |
/ crawled up them stairs
You went up them stairs, Sarah?"
" Yes; | went up to light the lamp,
an it was lit. The Lord he'd been
thar. It's true about Him."
The pale old man went to his kneel-
ing wife and raised her, tepderly.
Don't yOl believe His angel lit ?"
she asked, looking at him with anxious
intensity.
Yes, Sarah, | do replied Jackson
Reed. The thought was steadily reeur-
ring to his half-dazed brain, "Abby
Weaver, Abby Weaver lit the lamp;
but Sarah, Sarah need not know"
The next morning Sarah Reed, look
ing out of her window, saw little
pure white rose on the bush beneath it.
"Yes, meant to have told you it
had budded,' said her husband, when
she exclaimed. q found it thar yes
terday Thar's another one too"
1t was a lovely clear morning.
Abby Weaver, looking out of her win
dow, saw William Barstow pass by on
his way to the lighthouse to tell the
odd folks of his safety.-Harper's
Bdzar.