Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1889-11-29
CHAPTER XII,
OLA CAPTURED.

Ola Gatrell remained in the room with
the wounded sea captain, gazing for long
time on his heaving chest and difficult
breathing. 1t was quite apparent that
Captain Gatreu was growing very weak.
removing him to his own room and bed
had so exhausted him that he was scarce
" able to speak.
Ola, with all the tender sympathy Of a
loving daughter, hung about the bed of
the dying man and tears trjckled down her
cheeks.
Don't cry, honey, u said the warm-heart-
ed Mrs. Hatchet. We've all got to die
some time; yer fathers Jest agoin' a few
days afOre the others, that's all.
But, Mrs. Ratchet, it is sad to think
that he, who had but few days left at best,
should be sn6tched away in this manner
should die such a violent death"
Poor Ola broke down and sObbed. The
wounded man woke in time to hear her
last words. He sat up in bed and in
feeble voice called:
"Ola, Ola, my dear child, come here!"
She dried her tears and stood by his
bedside. You have been weeping" the
wounded sailor said, trying to smile, but
twinge of pain in his side drove the
smile away.
Il will not weep if it annoys you, father, "
she said, sitting down by his bedside
He gently drew her face toward him,
and, kissing her as he was wont to do
when she was an infant said:
my child-my dear child! for though
there is no blood relation between us, I
will still call you my dear child" He
was so weak he was forced to stop and
rest, though his feeble arm was still about
her neck.
"Do not try to talk, father, she said;
"you are too weak, and your strength has
been taxed too much already"
I will not talk more than is good for
L - L g.
breath. - You are my chlId-Lny own
chiId-are you not, OLAF" he asked, his
! eyes growing unnaturally bright
of course am, father; no one would
! pretend to say was not, she answered.
| His mind seemed to wander, and for a
moment the sea captain muttered some
| uninteligible sentences.
/ & knew you would not deny being my
I child, he finally said. THAT ship-that
/ wreck-that storm, Ola-and also after
| I had been told that my own wife and
! child had persisted. 1t was my own child
/ I rescued from the wreck. 1t was my
/ own wife found dead and dishgured on
! the wreck. Poor OIa-my own little
! darling-I must soon go and leave
you"
@@Oh, father, don't talk so! won't you
try and sleep agaiD?"
Sleep, child? 1 will soon sleep. 1t
| will be the last long sleep-that sleep
| that knows no waking. I am nearing
port, my sails are shortened, Ola, and
/ soon I'll cast anchor in the haven o. rest.
| But you won't be alone"
You are talking too much, father
You must talk no more. Do please be
| quiet"
Never fear, child; know when to lay
/ to, " the sailor answered. Don't be IN
easy about me, for this old storm tossed
| hulk is going into the dry-dock, but you
I nil Ia uInno a lnvng dnQF
I and he viii never tOrsake you. He IS ma
/ lures true nobIsman. Never did ship
sail under fairer cOlors.
@NO, father, have no fears Of being
left alone or neglected. Now go to sleep.
He laid his hand lovingly upon he1
face, psttsd her cheek, and sunk int
slumber.
Mrs. Ratchet, who had stood in the
background while the father and dsugh.
ter were cOnVersing, now mOtioned Ola Il
She removed the hand which still
rested upon her head and rose withou
waking him.
4 win go to my room, Mrs. Ratchet,
she said.
AS she was crossing the hall she hear,
the report Of gun or pistol toward the
/ earthWOrks On the southeast. Her hear
bounding with fear, she fastened out Il
the piazza in front of the house. Al
was intense darkness, but she could hea
q rush Of footsteps down toward the lin
of earthWoEks.
A few moments later she caught TIA
faint CLEAN Of lantern and another sho
was heard.
What is it-another fght?" aske,
Mrs. Hatchet, Fastening out upon tn
piazza.
& do not know. Did it wake father2
she asked.
No"
Please look in and see If be still
sleeps.
} ETo BIZ CONTINUED