The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-02-07

comedy.
 The morning after she;gale vas peace ful and snnny. AS walked along the long sweep of sand | could hear the panting of the sea. It was heaving and swirling about the reef, but al0nR the shore it rippled in gently enough. There vas no sign of the schooner, nor vas there any wreckage upon the beach, which did not surprise me, as I knew there was . great undertow in those waters. Acouple of broad-winged gulls were lowering and skimming over the scene of the shipwreck, as though many strange things were visible to them be- meath the waves. At times r could hear their raucous voices as they spoke to one another of what they saw.
 CHAPTER III.
 When came back from my walk, the woman was waiting at the door for me. l began to wish when saw her that had never saved her, for here was an end of my privacy. She was very young-at the most nineteen, with a pale, somewhat re- fined face, yellow hair, merry blue eyes, and shining teeth. Her beauty was of an ethereal type. She looked so white and light and fragile that she might have been the spirit of that storm foam from out of which plucked her. She had wreathed some of Madge's garments round her in way which was quaint and not unbecoming. As strode heavily up the pathway, she put out her hands with pretty child-like gesture, and ran down toward me, meaning, as 1 surmise, to thank me for having saved her, but put her aside with wave of my hand and passed her. At this she seemed some what hurt, and the tears sprang into her eyes, but she followed me into the sitting room and watched me wistfully. "What country do you come fromT l asked her suddenly.
 She smiled when l spoke, but shook her head.
 Francais ?" asked. "Deutsch ?n Espagnol 2"-each time she shook her head, and then she rippled of into long statement in some tongue of which could not understand one word.
 Alter breakfast was over, however, I got clue to her nationality. Passing along the beach once more, saw that in a cleft of the ridge a piece of wood had been damned. rowed out to it in my boat, and brought it ashore. 1t was part of the sternpost of boat, and on it, or rather on the piece of wood attached to it was the word @Archangel," painted in strange, quaint lettering. |So, ,"I thought. as l padded slowly back, "this pale damsel is Russian. A fit subject for the White Gar and a proper dweller on the shores of the White Sea p It seemed to me strange that one of her apparent refinement should perform so long a journey in so frail craA. When came back into the house, pronounced the word AIchangel" several times in diff ferent intonations, but she did not appear to recognize it.
 shut myself up in the laboratory all the morning, continuing a research which l was making upon the nature of the allotropic forms of carbon and sulphur. When l came out at midday for some food, she was sitting by the table with needle and thread, mending some rents in her clothes, which were now dry. II resented her continued presence, but could not turn her out on the beach to shift for herself. Presently she presented a new phase of her character. Pointing to herself and then to the scene of the shipwreck, she held up one finger, by which l understood her to be asking whether she was the only one saved. nodded my head to indicate that she was. l On this she sprang out of the chair with | a cry of great joy, and holding the gar ment which she was mending over her head and swaying it from side to side | with the motion of her body, she danced | as lightly as feather all round the room. and then out through the open door into | the sunshine. As she whiried round she | sang in plaintive shrill voice some un- couth barbarous chant expressive of ex- ultation. called out to her, " Come in, you young 6end, come in and be silent p' | but she went on with her dance. Then | she suddenly ran toward me, and catch ing my hand before could pluck it away, she kissed it. While we were at dinner, she spied one of my pencils, and | taking 1t up she wrote the two words | Sophie Ramusine upon a piece of paper, and then pointed to herself as sign that that was her name. She handed the pencil to me, evidently exc pecting that would be equally commu- nicative, but 1 put it in my pocket as sign that l wished to hold no intercourse with her.
 Every moment of my life now re. gretted the unguarded precipitancy with which had saved this woman. What vas it to me whether she had lived or died2 was no young hot-headed youth to do such things. It was bad enough 10 be compelled to have Madge in the house, but she was old and ugly and could be ignored. This one was young and lively, and so fashioned ss to divert attention from graver things. Where could send her, and what could I do with herr If I sent information to Wick. t would mean that officials and others would come to me, and pry and peep md chatter-a hateful thought. It vas better to endure her presence than that.
 CHAPTER ".
 soon found that there was fresh trouble n store for me. There is no place safe rom the swarming, restless race of which