Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1886-05-20

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and regarding herself with remarkable COM
placency, despite the fact that accident had
deprived her of a nose and one eye, and that
the beautiful red complexion and let black
hair she had once possessed had been entirely
washed away by the action of the elements.
leaving her all over of leprous pallor. The
rest OF the building, as have suggested was
OF sinister blackness, though here and there it
was sprinkled with wet sea sand. Sand, too,
lay on every side covered a small patch.
| originally meant for garden, and drifted
thickly up to the very door.
To this cottage William Jones ran with his
treasure trove, and, entering it without cere-
mony, found himself in almost total dark
ness; for the light which crept through the
blackened panes of the small windows was
only just sufficient to make darkness visible.
But this worthy seaside character having, in
addition to cats predatory instincts, some
thing OF cats power of vision, clearly dis
cerned everything in the chamber he lust en-
tered-a rude, stone paved kitchen, with an
open fireplace and no CRATE, black rafters
overhead. from which suspended sundry lean
| pieces OF bacon; couple of wooden chairs. q
table, and In one corner sort of bed in the
wall, where human figure was reposing.
Setting down the trunk on the floor. be
4
monously shook the individual living upon
it, whom he discovered to be a man. mutter-
ing in heavy sleep Finding that he did
not wake with shaking, William Jones bent
| down and cried Justify in his ear:
| Wreck wreck ashorei"
The effect was instantaneous. The figure
rose up in bed, disclosing tho head and shout
| ders or very old man, who wore n red cotton
| night cap, and whose hair and beard wero rs
| white as snow.
"Eha Wheera Wheerr he cried in a shrill
treble, looking vacantly around him.
Wake up, old 'un,n said William. Selling
him and shaking him again. SITS me. VII
liam Jones'
| "Williama Is it my son Williamro re-
turned the old man, peering out into the
| darkness.
YES, father. Look ye now, you was
a-talking again in your sleep, you was. A
| good thing no one heerd you but your son
| William. Some o these days you'll be letting
summat out, you will, if you go on like this !"
The old man shook his head feebly, then
clasping his hands together in n kind of rap
ture, he looked at his son and said:
Eyes, William, was a-dreaming. Oh. it
was such a heavingly dreaml | was a-stand-
| ing on the shore, William, and it was a-blow-
| ing hard from the east, and all at once L see
a ship as big as an Indiaman come in wi, all
| sail set, and go ashore; and l looked round.
William dear, and there was no ono nigh but
| you and me; and when she broke up | sec
| gold and silver and jewels come washing
| ashore just like floating weeds, and the
| drownded, every one of 'em, had rings On
| their fingers and gold watches and checns.
and, more'n that, that their hands was full
| of shining gold; and one on 'em-a lady,
| William-had bright diamond ring. as big
| as a walnut; but when tried to pull it OF it
| wouldn't come; and just as pulled out my
leetle knife to cut the finger off, and put it in
| my pocket, you shook me, William, and woke
me up oh, it was heavingly dream!"
William Jones had listened with ill-dis-
| guised interest to the early part of this
| speech, but, on its conclusion, he gave an
other grunt of undissembled disgust
well, you're awake now, old un: SO iump
| up. I've brought summat home. Look
sharp, and get light
Thereupon the old man, who was fully
dressed in pair of old wooden trousers and a
| guernsey, slipped from the bed and began
| fumbling about the room. He soon found
what he wanted-a box of matches and
| rude, homemade candle, fashioned of q long,
| coarse reed dipped in sleeps tallow; but,
owing to the fact that he was exceedingly
feeble and tremulous, he was SO long in light
ing up that his gentle son grew impatient.
Here, give 'un to men said William.
You're wasting them matches just as if they
cost nowt. A precious father you are, and
no mistake
The candle being lighted and burning with
feeble flame, he informed the old man of
what he had found. In moment the latter
was down on his knees, opening the box
and greedily examining its contents. But
William pushed him impatiently away and
closed the lid with bang.
'Theer enough o. that, old 'unl You hold
the light while l carry the box in and put it
away"
''All right, William dear-all right re.
turned the old man, obeying gleefully. 81
know'd we should have luck, by that beauti-
full dreamn
The two men-one holding the light and
the other carrying the trunk-passed through
a door at the back of the kitchen and entered
an inner chamber This chamber, too, CON
tanned a window, which was so blocked up.
however, by lumber of all kinds that little
or no daylight entered. Piled up in great
confusion were old sacks, some partly full,
some empty; coils of rope, broken Dars,
broken fragments of ships planks, rotten and
bainacled; small boats rudder, dirty sails,
several oilsxin coats, bits of iron ballast and
ot"er totsa:n and ietsaul: that the cham
Der hal q salt and fsh-like smell, suggesting
the hold of some vessel. But in one corner
Il the room was small wooden bed with
mattress and coarse bei-clothing, and hang
ing on nail close to it was certain feminine
attire which the owner of the caravan would
have recognized as the garb worn by Matt
on the morning of her first appearance.
Placing the box down, William Jones care
fully covered it with a portion of an old sail.
Its summat, but it amt much, he NUT
tered, discontentedly. Lucky them coast
guards didn't see me come ashore. If they
did, though, it wouldn't signify; for what's
floating on the sea belongs TO him as finds it /"
A sound startled him as he spoke, and,
looking round suspiciously, he saw Matt en-
terinS the room, loaded with broken wood
But she was not alone; standing behind her
IN the shadow was man-none other, indeed,
| than Monk, of Monkshurst
While Matt entered the room to throw
down her load of wood Monk stood in the
| doorway. His quick eye had noted the move
ments of father and son.
More plumber, William Jones?n he asked
grimly.
In a moment William Jones was trans
| formed. Tho keen expression of his face
changed to one Of mingled stupidity and sad
ness; he began to whine
| More plumber, Mr. monkgn he said. ''No,
no; the days for finding that is gone Matt
and me has been on the shore foraging for
bit o. firewood-that be all. Put it down,
Matt; put it down"
| Matt did as she was told; opening her arms
she threw her load into o corner of the room;
then William Jones hurried the whole party
back into the kitchen
The men seated themselves on benches but
| Matt moved about the room to get a light.
| The light, as well as everything else, was O
living illustration of the meanness of William
Jones. 1t consisted not of candle, but Of a
long rush, which had been gathered from the
marshes by Matt, and afterward dried and
| dipped IN grease by William Jones' Matt
| lighted 1t and fixed it in little iron niche
which was evidently made for the purpose.
and which was attached to table near the
hearth. When the work was finished. she
| threw Off her hat and jacket, retired to the
farther end OF the hearth and sat down on
| the floor.
During the whole of this time Mr. Monk
had been watching her gloomily; and he had
been watched in his turn by William Jones.
| AT last the latter spoke:
"Matt's growed,n said he; ssshe,s growed
wonderful. Lord bless usl she's a bit
changed she is sim that night when YOU
found her down on the shore. Why, her own
friends wouldn't know her!n
Mr.. Monk started and frowned.
Her friendsF' he said-''what friendsr,
why, them as owns her, continued VIII