Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-05-11

| ouo MARI you can steer by-Heavens danger
signals. calls them. Do you see. sir. a white
mark there down the face of the rock about
| loo yards this side of the point. and another
marx the same about l50 yards along from
Nnere You are standing now? Well. you're
| safe enough SO long as YOU don't get inside
| either of them. They're some sort of white
| moss as grows down the cliff. and only for
| ,nem rheres many one would have lost his
| NE. There's some of them foolhardy chaps as
oon seem happy uniess they're putting their
| precious lives in danger. wi'out givin' thought
| 10 the mother or wife that's may be dependin'
upon them, as has climbed the whole way along
Ihe lace of the cliff, round to st. Bridgets.
But you see. sir. the cliff hangs over a good bit
and tits nasty shaley stuff as gives no grip for
| nands and feet and if it gives way under you
| down you go. straight on TO the quicksands.
| YOU"
| "Well,"I said. lit is most fortunate Imet
| you here. for should most certainly have tried
| 10 hnd my way home across the sands. 1t is a
! great shame the authorities do not put up
hotlce-ooard to warn people of their danger"
| , Aye sir. there was warning-board up all
| through the summer, but the first storm in the
winter carried 1t away. and you see. sir. it's
| only once IN way as visitors comes here afore
June or July; so suppose as how they thought
| And So
He stopped short and shaded his eyes from
the dazzle of the setting sun.
| Good heavensw he calculated ':what is
| 'lu yOu see. sir NV S.gnt is not so
good as IT was. Is that anybody riding round
| the point?"
sudden, sickening presentiment came over
me-. My heart gave bound. and then seemed
70 stand still. l shaded my eyes, too, and gazed
out to the point
One look was enough. sprang forward with
a scream. stop! Stopr' I shouted
FOR In that one glance l had recognized be-
yond doubt the outline of Uncle Mats eve
necked mare. lhouetted with painful distinctive
| hess against the male yallny Of fha sl.v mi
riding her-slowly in our direction-a lady who
could be no other than Celia.
Inc concentrated agony of years seemed to
be all crowded into that moment of time.
that Is my wife! My wife, tell you" Then,
| letting HIM so. / waved my arms wildly. Go
back; so back" called
The wind blew the words down my throat.
And still l could see Celia slowly but surely
! approaching the white mark-"Heaven's danger
| signal"
With no distinct idea of what meant to do
| was beginning to run toward the advancing
rider, still waving my arms as though to push
by the sleeve.
what are you doin', sir? You won't save
her that way. If she sees you at all she'll more
likely think you are reckoning her on than
telling her to go back. There's only one thing
you can do. sir. Run for your life till you get
within couple of yards of the white mark
! nearest us-then take to the rocks, the way
was telling you just now and mayhap-mayhap
| you get across in time"
heard no more had torn off my coat and
hat and was flying along toward the white
mark at racing speed.
1t did not take me long to reach the spot
where L must leave the sands for the rocks
Before beginning my perilous climb. l cast one
| nasty glance i'll Celias direction Was / already
| too late? No. thank Cod A historical sob of
| JOY arose IN my throat as saw that some within
OF the moment had induced her to stop in her
| onward way, in order to try to oblige her horse
| to walk into the sea- L had lust time to see
| that the horse FESTIVE and kept backing
away from the advancing waves into which she
was evidently bent on urging it. and then nv
whole energies of mind and body had to be
concentrated on the difficulty of making my
way along the shaley face of the cliff
Rising straight up from the sand for about 20
feet was a sheer. smooth slab of rock. which af-
forded absolutely no foothold, but above this
| came the strata of shale along which was
scrambling as best l could. The overhanging
CHI above me looked as though it were long
| ing to fall over and push me downtown on to
| the horrible, hungry sands below The shale
cut my. hands and broke away from under nv
feet ct each step, and all the time there was
the haunting fear that | should be too late:
that before should have got up to the second
! white mark the sands would have swallowed mp
my darling forever. l remembered our quar-
rel with sort of dull, distant pain. Oh. if only
could be In time! How could endure to go
| forgiven my hasty words whether she had
gone to her awful death still smarting under
| their injustice.
| could only have been about ten minutes.
| but 1t seemed to me to be hours before at last
| reached the messy white mark which showed
me had come to the edge of the quicksand
IL was only as crossed it and scrambled down
to the shore below that dared TO look to see if
| my worst fears had been realized
| How can L describe the revulson of feeling
when, as my feet touched the sand heard
Cella's laugh. and looking up saw her on the
ewe-necked mare within yard of me.
why, you silly boyr' she exclaimed, "what
ever made you come that way? l have been
| waiting here for the last three minutes ex-
pecting every second to see you come tumbling
down. You ought to take better care of YOUR
self now you are steady married man."
L could say nothing. l staggered like a
drunken man. For three minutes she had been
standing there within few yards of certain
destruction! 1t made me dizzy and faint to
| think OF the narrowness of her escape
At last managed to say hoarsely. as took
her horses head and turned it homeward
"How did you come here?"
why, can't you see?' she said. puzzled at
my manner and my white, scared face. when
you left me i'll that very ungallant way this
morning l had to find some amusement for
myself, so had the mare saddled and came
out for a little ride on the sands"
''Oh! my darling! my darling! can YOU ever
forgive me?' l cried. brOkenly. And then, by
degrees told her Of the horrible danger that
had threatened her, of my agony, and of my al
most despairing climb along the cliff
Her face paled. MY poor Dickr' she said
as she laid her hand on my shoulder "And to
think how cross was to you!"
Gross" exclaimed. mo wonder when
=" But she stopped me gently.
| Don let us talk of it any more, Dick And
yet, after all, she said, as she wiped away few
tears, lit was really providential quarrel, for
if we hadn't quarreled, we should have gone out
riding together, and we should both of us have
got into the quicksands'
We'll" returned, 1.-The next quarrel might
not be SO providential. A quarrel is always a
dangerous experiment. We won't repeat it;
will we, dear?"
And, in spite of the 'Blundell temper" we
| never have.
| Written for THE EVENING STAR.
Two ROundels on Tulips.
/.