The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-01-31

multi in her own heartl There was something
SO manly, SO convincing about this honest young
sailor that she trembled--trem5led for fear that,
after all. she might love him. And now she
spoke softly:
Il am SO sorry. Don't say anything more to
me! But don't wish you to feel badly. Oh, if
could have guessed such thing, I never would
have come out here! There, you may take my
hand--once; though its only to say goodby to
you. It is useless to think Of such a thing, you
know bat you may write to me and say how you
are getting on. And, Oil your father-you lave
told me 80 much about him. should like some
day to see him. Good-by
So she was gone What had she done2 She
could not sleep again that night for thinking OF
what had happened; whether she had not been
too lenient and whether there were not some
sentiment in her heart that she dared not con-
fess. Lon, for his part, felt the blood burning
in his veins; partly with shame and mortified
ton, so that he was ready to jump into the sea;
partly with eestatic triumph because he had re-
vealed his love- The stars shone Whitley, the
waves murmured, the sails hung like huge spec
tiers above him; the boat appeared to fly with re-
doubled speed, and to him. watching there. as to
Evelyn, lying wakeful in her state-room, that
brief scene which had just passed came back
like momentary, incoherent vision.
The next night, having quilted the service Of
Mr.. Meadows Lon reached his fathers house,
Brooklyn. In one of the windows there WIS q
green shade. and in the other red one; so that
the light from behind made them look like the
larnoard and starboard lanterns of ship, and
gave the place a familiar, homelike air. The
captain greeted his son with gruff cordiality,
but it was not long before he discovered that
something had gone wrong, Lon was so cast
down. In few days the young man made full
confession to him.
Nov, look here, Lonzo," said Captain Billy
he always said "Lonzo" when he wanted to
be severe-'youd better steer clear O them
kind O craft If you don't you'll have COLI
sion, and then, first thing you know down you
go!"
But the son was not to be dissuaded. The
more he reflected the surer he was that Evelyn's
last words in their strange interview contained
germ of hope for him, and he obtained sympa
thy from his mother. She was plain, placid
woman, whose fxity of expression bore living
witness to the artistic truth shown in the
heads do not possess-a tender heart--and
she steadily sustained Lon against the captains
frequent grumblings. Captain Billy, however,
was confirmed in his opinion that Lon would go
down" by the way in which Lon began to lag
around and neglect work. Somtimes he accom-
panied his father on the ferryboat and some
times he talked of getting employment, but more
often he was mysteriousv sent and declined
to give any account of himself on returning
Evelyn might have explained some of these
absences, She received a letter from her sailor.
to which at first she gave no heed; but one day,
on visit to a friend at Staten Island, she went
out to practice archery by herself. Just as she
had bent the bow and sent an arrow flying a
figure in blue appeared at the edge of thicket
behind the target. Evelyn uttered cry Of
fright.
did hit you2"
NO" answered Lon, coming forward II
was wounded before-that night on the Ripple"
She consented to talk with him. He offered
to pick up the arrows for her while she shot; and
in the end she agreed to meet him again. This
circumstance solves the mystery Of certain in
applicable catb boat lacking on and off near that
spot some days later and of a yelled woman
who, coming down to the shore, was taken out
for sail past Bergen. They met often after
that at varions places; there was no longer any
concealment between them Of their love- but it
had TO be secreted from every one else, and each
time that Evelyn saw him she resolved that it
should be the last.
Who would have suspected, seeing her calm
womanly face, with sweet severity about the
innocent eyebrows, that she carried such a
great anxiety in her hearth In due time young
Beeny piped out in thin voice the proposal
OF marriage which he had long been medita-
ting; but she refused it with facile composure
The men whom she met in society were no
more to her. now, than so many black coated
silhouettes Lon was her one reality and yet,
what was she to do with him2 Where would it
all end7 No hope was discernible, unless by
an elopement, and from that she still shrank
But every night she lay awake long While, and
often she would listen to the mournful notes of
the steamer whistles on the river, blending in
wild harmony or dscord, while the vast city
was sunk in slumber She knew that Lon fire..
quently took his place on one of the boats at
night, as an assistant pilot and these prolonged
tones, calling through the darkness over the
roofs and streets, were like distant hail from
him-a sorrowful voice Of separation and strug-
gle.
Meanwhile, day by day, Captain Billy went on
conducting the ferryboat to and fro eight hours
ont of each twenty-four; silent, diligent unno-
ticed, unknown. Thousands of people were
borne from bank to bank without ever thinking
of his existence. 1t never crossed their minds
that over and over again he saved them from
some imminent peril in that short and seemingly
safe transit. The great white boat moved like a
gigantic swan across the green ish food or,
in times of fog and snow, like ghostly
bark freighted with beings who might
have been fancied to be floating as disem-
bodied spirits the strait between life and
death. Captain Billy, up on top, knew all about