, 1889-04-21

as II Werel -
After this Mark and Remy had not
quilted zach other. A Bordeaux ship
owner, sojourning on the coast OF Nor
mandy, had heard of the disastrous end
Of the Claudine, and, seeing her two
masters without resources, offered to
take them into his service. Then Remy
had left his wife and his little one In the
small, smoke begrimed cottage Of his
forefathers. Ali how he had kissed
those two well beloved ones when they
parted The separation was a hard trial
to him, but then the place he had been
offered was a good one. Little by little
he had beer able to restore to his family
all the comforts that had been lost, and
when between trips he returned home
they all seemed to love one another
doubly, as II to make up for lost time,
Anyhow, he had just had a very mar
row escape. A little more and tho storm
would have settled his account and
Remy would have gone to meet the old
man, beneath the green waves. Again
it was Mark who had saved him, just
as he had lone beforei How greatly he
was indebted to that kind friendl But,
pshawi what did that natter Wasn't
his heart there ever ready to pay back
in kind? And Remy lived anew those
past few hours. What terror there was
on board of the Belle Julie during the
last panic. No more orders, no officers,
no differences of rank. Nothing but q
set Of brutes furnishing for life, and
ready to kill in order to escape deathi
They had crowded into the three life
boats. The ships boat was despised as
too unsafe, too likely to be dashed to
pieces by those furious waves. The cap
tain had shouted to Mark and Remy,
who were busy gathering up the ships
paper and money.
His voice was probably lost in the roar
of the tempest, for when they did hear
it, it was too late. A cabin boy had cut
the rope which kept the craft in place,
and in the twinkling of an eye the two
men found themselves abandoned and
alone upon tho deck of tho vessel, which
was slowly sinking with them.
Then they had rushed to the ships
boat, their last resourcol Thanks to a
lucky chance as well as to the energy,
strength and skill of Mark, they are safe,
for tho time being at least. Safe for the
time being: no indeed, safe forever, for
Mark is no stranger in those parts. He
knows exactly where they are. Thanks
to his skill and knowledge, they will be
able to steer clear of the rocks that fringe
that forbidding coast and reach n safe
haven. Thanks TO him, Remy's heart
may still beat high with the hope of see
ing again his native land and embracing
once more his loved ones.
Will All. tl-,-IN Na,-, .,,aJ1 80. T.
Remy's eyes; and he casts upon his
saviour q lingering look of love and graft
tude.
Mark still sleeps. The sun, which has
at last pierced through the heavy clouds,
bathes him in its golden rays.
All of n sudden Remy, who has not
ceased rowing, feels n tremor shake mis-
frame.
The coarse shirt of his friend is open,
exposing to view q species of cloth soap
ular lying upon his bosom. Some too
abrupt motion during the storm had
probably severed the silken cord by
which it was attached to his tanned,
sunburnt neck, and had even torn the
scapular itself, as from one of its ends
appears something of n dingy white
color, resembling a paper or a card dis
colored by age. The sleeper, in stretch
ing himself out on the bottom of the
boat like n wornout beast, had not ne
ticed the mishnp.
1t is upon this something that Remy
fixes his gaze. Although he cannot
clearly make out what it is, still it af-
fects him in a most singular manne
1t seems to him that the card is a pict-
uro which resembles the charming and
well beloved features of his wife, of his
Claudinel
He shakes his head to dispel the illu-
sion. closes his eyes, reopens them and
casts them once more upon the picture.
The vision will not be driven away.
Then, to satisfy himself, he lets go his
oars. bends over Mark. who snores on,
and grasps the object.
He felt faint. He plunges one hand
into the sea and bathes his fevered brow
and temples with tho icy water.
1t is really her picture. 1t is Claudine;
and on the back of the soiled paste board
he finds written in hat large, irregular
handwriting which he knows so well
these two lines:
To my well beloved Mark. my only love, the
father OF our WON FROM HIS CLAUDnSE-
Remy was Us pale as death. In a sec
ond's time all his hopes, all his love, and
all his happiness have been wrecked. He
puts both hands to his head; his brain is
tortured by q most acute pain; his tenn
Piles throb as IL they would burst, while q
cold sweat gathers upon his forehead.
He feels that he is going mad.
Come, nowl such n crime is not, can
not be possible. His wife, his child, his
brother, oil lost by the same blowl MOI
mol He must be dreaming; he must be
under the influence of q horrid night
mare.
But his eyes again gaze upon the pict-
ure in his hand, a rude photograph taken
in a shanty in Dieppe n holiday when
all three had como there together on q
pleasure trip. Obi he remembers well,
and he feels the blood rush to his temples
as an atrocious thirst for revenge stirs
his heart.
Obi yes, he will revenge himself First
on him, the infamous scoundrell lie has
him there in his power fast asleepl God
Is just!