The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1886-07-17

JOnn SIIltieS anu UeUueTly UlHceS HeT
on her feet. Then the beetle-browed
man, who until now, for reasons best
known to himself, has kept aside, APP
proaches cap in hand, and Is so pro-
fusely thankful to John and so outrage
ously affcctionate toward the little aero
bat that what else can John do but adj
Just his hat before all these people and
then nodestly slink away from themp
Nevertheless, he tells himself rs he
passes through the great porte, that mad
this incident occurred in America he
certainly would not have desisted in his
attentions towards Annette until he had
rescued the poor child from that ANA
zon and brute. Here, however, in st.
Malo he is q stranger in a strange land;
knows absolutely nothing about the
laws regulating
Nonsense, interposes John Crinoline's 8
conscience. Isn't this child likewise u
stranger in strange landp She heard
you swear; she spoke to you in En-
lish. Humbug, says John untiinch-
ingly.
But out on the long curving pier,
strolling the granite docks, indeed all
the afternoon until evening, when he
stands on the ramparts watching the
red sun sink in the sea, John thinks of
Annette. He irritably insists that it is
none of his business, but away over in
tho West the clouds cunningly arrange
themselves in the form of child with
yellow hair, and give him the lie direct.
He whistles softly and remarks to him
self that this thing is very amusing; that
he doesn't propose to be browbeaten
into making an ass of himself, even by
celestial phenomena.
A mild breeze is blowing seaward and
the tide is fast ebbing. Stretches of
white, clean beach lay below him, on
which children are at play. Adult
Frenchmen, who will never outgrow
their boyhood. stand knee-deep in the
quiet water of pond left by the sea,
gleefully sailing their miniature ships.
and bevy of girls, chaperoned by their
parents. are seeking the shelter of the
rocks to disrobe for o bath. Tardy
blanchisseuses issue from the town with
heaping baskets of linen, which they
spread upon the beach, and the confused
murmur of their voices floats up with
the rolling of the surf A gendarme
stands at the western bastion with the
| VlcEId-COLtSt tluu VI bilC Shy III lid ldCc,
and of him John inquired when it will
be possible for him to cross over tha
dixie to Grand-Bey. He has still half.
hour to wait before he can stand by the
tomb of his favorite French author. II
is enough time for another turn around
the ramparts.
The day is dying. 1t is nearly dead
and the silver light of the moon is or
the water, wnen John, having looked
everywhere else around him, quite
naturally drops his eyes straight dowr
along the great granite blocks of the
pier, and is shocked to find them resting
upon Annette. Yes, there she is, hel
lips parted, smiling timidly up at him
one hand against the shiny green sea
weed that clings to the wall, and tn,
other swinging small paper parcel
OF course, She is not clad in her tinse
and tights, only in shabby blue dress
but the yellow hair is there, and Johl
knows her by it. He can discern mil,
appeal in her eyes; she looks as though
she would speak to him; she has hel,
her pretty little head in that straine'
upward position so long-indeed
Heaven only knows how iong-that h
can see her swallowing back what hi
heart tells him is sob-and yet, wha
does he do?
'Be careful!' he calls to her in gra
cious tone; '.you may fall in. Thos
stones look slippery"
And the next instant he is walking rap
idly away toward the beach.
When John desccnds the paved road
way leading from the main gate the las
afterglow of sunset has faded from tn
sky, and the moon is shining full upol
the sea. He crosses tho sea wall t,
Grand-Bey. The little island look
rather forbidding as it lies in tn
shadow, sloping gently up from the still
water to where it is crowned by tn
ragged ruins of the ancient chateau
The path, family defined in the gras
and stones, leads past these ruins. the
, down flight of stone steps, and sud
denly before Johns eyes the tomb mp
pears, surrounded by its iron railing
, through which CLEANS the waste of Sc
lighted up by the moon.
He is instantly sure there is nowher
another such grave as this. Perche
, upon the edge Of the island, here loft
and steep. where the salt spray ca
, bathe it when the waves run high, it
so lonely, so simple. so grand. 1t
only small cylindrical cross carve
, from q granite block, and it rests upo
, the tomb, which is enclosed by ruste
, iron fence, the four corner posts bein
, capped by iron pine cones. John at ono
, begins minute inspection of the grave
, He has come TO ST. Malo for this expires
purpose, you will remember. So
walks slowly around it, and in so doin
his eye has to fall upon the sea, tran
quilly surging and silvered over wit
, the light of the moon. When he
! presently conscious OF this diversion b
stubbOrnly turns to the grave again an
, tries to find an inscription upon tn
tablet. There is none visible. II
, then plucks dead crisp flower fror
, the mutilated wreath of imm ortelle
that some friend or pilgrim like himse
has long ago hung around the shaft {
the cross. He places this flower in hi
, notebook and seats himself on the graz
, ite rock with his limbs hanging over til
edge.
"What," he deliberately says aloul
ISIS the matter with me?"
, What, indeedp John Crinoline
} something OF writer. As a versifier h
, is undoubtedly very clever, and it
) mainly due to his belief that the vi
, fortunate name he possesses will alway
operate against his literary success thi
. he is so sensitive on that point. HI
friands 1omant that this scrihhlinu to