St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1885-03-01
Continued From First Page.
A SHIP OF'49,
A ROMANCE OF CALIFORNIA.
BY BRET HARTE.
IN THREE PARTS-PART II.
WRITTEN FOR THE ST. PAUL GLOBE.

Copyright 1885, by Bret Harte. All Rights Reserved.
possession of a loft on the main deck we'll for
ward just over the forehold could satisfy my
self in O few hours; but the loft is rented by
that crazy Frenchman who par; IS MontgomerJ
street every afternoon, and, though old PIKE
county wants 10 turn him out, I'm afraid cart
get it for a week to come.
IF anything should happen to me, just you
waltz down here and corral my things at once
for this old frontier pirate has way of confs-
eating his dodgers trunks. Yours,
CHAPTER III.
If Mr. Renshaw INDUCED in any further
curiosity regarding the interior OF the Pontiac
he did not make his active researches mani
fest to Rosey Nor, in spite of her fathers
Invitation, did he again approach the galley,
fact which gave her her first vague impes-
sion in his favor. He seemed also to avoid
the various advances which Mr.Nott appeared
impeIled to make, Whenever they met in the
passage, but did so without seemingly avoid
ing her, and marked his half contemptuo
indifference TO the elder Mott by an increase
OF respect to the young girl. She would have
liked to ask him something about ships, and
was sure his conversation would have been
more interesting than that Of old Capt
Bower to whose cabin he had succeeded,
who had once told her shipwas the 'devils
hencoop" She would have liked also to ex
plain to him that she was not in the habit Of
wearing purple bonnet. But her thoughts
were presently engrossed by an experience
which interrupted the even tenor of her
young life.
She had been, as she afterward remem-
bered, impressed with nervous restlessnesS
one afternoon, which made it impossible for
her to perform her ordinary household duties,
or to even indulge her favorite recreation of
reading or castle building. She wandered
over the ship, and impelled by the same
vague feeling Of unrest, descended to the
lower deck and the forward bulkhead where
she had discovered the open hatch. 1t had
not been again disturbed, nor was there any
trace of further exploration. little ashamed,
she knew not why, OF reyisiting the scene Of
Mr. Rensbaw's researches, she was turning
back, when she noticed that the door which
communicated with De Ferrieres loft was
partly open. The circumstance was so IN
usual that she stopped before it in surprise.
There was no sound from within; it was the
hour when its queer occupant was always
absent; he must have forgotten to lock the
door, or it had been unfastened by other
hands. After moment Of hesitation she
pushed it further open and stepped into the
room.
By the dim light Of two portfolios she could
see that the floor was strcwn and piled with
the contents Of q broken bale of curled horse
hair, Of which few untouched bales still re-
manned against the wall. A heap of morocco
skins, some already cut in the form of chair
cushion covers, and a few cushions IN
finished and unstutfed lay in the light of the
/ 81
of a cheap workshop. A rude instrument
for combing the horse hair, avis, buttons
and thread, heaped on small bench, showed
that active work had been but recently in
terrupted. a cheap earthenware ever and
basin on the floor, and a pallet made Of an
open bale Of horse hair, on which ragged
quilt and blanket were flung, indicated that
the solitary worker DIV cit and slept beside
his work.
The truth flashed upon the young girls ac-
tive brain, quickened by seclusion and fed
by SOLITARY books. She read with keen eyes
the miserable secret of her fathers strange
guest in flIe poyerty-stricken walls, In the
mute evidences of menial handicraft per
formed in loneliness and privatiOu, in this
pitcous adaptation of an accident to save the
conscious shame Of premeditated toll. She
knew now why he had stammeringly refused
had given him; she knew now how hardly
gained was the pttance that paid his rent
and supported his childish vanity and gro
tesque pride. From a peg in the corner hung
the familiar masquerade that hid his poverty
the pearl-eray trousers, the black frock
coat, the tall shining hat-in hideous contrast
to the penury Of his surroundings. But ii
thai were here, where was he, and in what
new disguise had he escaped from his pov
erty! vague uneasiness caused her TO hes
itatc and return TO the open door. She had
nearly reached it when her eye fell on the
pallet which it partially Illuminated. A sing
ular resemblance in the ragged heap made
her draw closer. The faded quilt was
dressing gown, and clutchiug its folds lay a
white, wasted hand.
The cmigraut childhood of Rose Mott had
been more than once shadowed by scalpng
knives, and she was acquainted with death.
She went fearessly to the couch and found
that the dressing gown was only an enwrap-
ping of the emaciatcd and lifcless body of
De Fcrrieres. She did not retreat or call for
help, but examined him closely. He was I'M
conscious but not pulseless; he had evident
" been strong enough to open the door for
air or succor, but had aftcrward fallen in a
fiji on the couch. She flew to her fathers
locker and the galley fire, returned and shut
the door behind her, and 10y the skillful use
al hot water and whisky, soon had the salts
faction Of seeing u faint color take the place
of the faded rouge in the ghastly checks.
She was still chatting his hands when be slowly
opened his eyes. With start, he made
quick attempt to push aside his hands and
rise. But she gently restrained him.
'Eh-whatln he stammcred, throwing his
face back from hers with an effort, and try
. u
''You have been ill., she said quietly.
''Driuk this"
With his face stll turned away he lifted
the cup 10 his chattering teeth. When he
had drained Il he threw q trem bling glance
around the room and at the door.
There's no one been here but myself"
che said quickly. | happened to see tue
door open rs l passed. / didn't think 1t
worth while 10 call any one.'
The searching look he gave her turned into
an expression of relief, which to her infinite
uneasiuess again feebly lightened into one OF
Anticipated gallautry. He drew the dressing
gown around him with an air.
All, it IL a goddess, mademoiselle, that
has deigurd to enter the cell where-where-
I-amuse myself. It is iroll-is it notl I
came here TO make--vhat YOU eall-the ex-
pertinent of your fathers fabric. l make
mysclf-hal ha,-like workman. An,
bah the heat, the darkness. the plebeian mo-
tivu make my head to go round. I
stagcer I faint cry out. fall. But what
OF thatIIbe great God hears my cry and
sends me an angel Io1a"'
he attempted an easy gesture Of gallautry,
hut ovr-baiauced himself aud fell sideways
on the pallet with gasp. Yet there was so
much genuine feeling mixed with his gro
ttsQuc atTectation, so much piteous conscious
ness Of the iuytTcc;iveurSs OF his falsehood,
that the young girl, wGo had turned away,
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