The Opelousas courier., 1890-01-11

fierce tropic storm, burst over the ship a
few seconds later. It had grown swiftly,
densely dark. The orders of the Captain
rang family through the roar and hiss of
wind and wave. Then, after a time
was it minutes or hours?-there came an
other change. The fury of storm had
spent itself. But the vessel had sprung
a leak and was sinking.
A wild rush for the boats, cries OF
women ,shrieks of children, oaths of men.
And then-who shall say by what supreme
instinct-Horst found himself" strug-
CLING through the frantic press of dying
souls near to the side of Rosalys and his
arm about her. A flash of lightning H.
lumined her still, white face, strangely
composed ana quiet, and Storrman's, dis
torted with terror, elbowing women out
OF his way like a beast, looking only fol-
the boats for his W safety, forgetful OF
all else.
Already Horst had lifted Rosalys in
his arms.
"Stand back, he cried fiercely. And
the last boat was launched, and Rosalys
had a place in it.
There was another forward lurch, and
then it was seen that the women had all
been transferred to the boats. And now
there was room only for one more-s
man. They stood side by side-Horst
and Sherman. Which should it be?
1t was the work of a second. Should
he take his revenge now7 It lay in his
grasp. With one bound he could leave
Storrmann behind him to face death.
Who shall tell the temptations of that
infinitesimal fraction of time?
Then something that had survived
through the wreck of much that had
been noblest in the man asserted itself.
He stepped back. Sherman was saved.
= X y y \ y
At the gate of a small cottage in a
quiet country town a girl, dressed simply
in black, waited toward the close of the
day. 1t was Rosalys, and she was
changed. Something of the luminous
young softness had gone out of her
eyes; in them was a graver depth. She
was a little older, a little more serious.
One dread experience may add years to
the life. Rosalys waited for a step to
approach through the dusk, and finally it
came. 1t was that of a man, and
Rosalys flushed and grew pale. Then e
stiffness fell over her. He vas standing
before her now. He had come for his
answer. But he did not ask for it; he
did not plead. His eyes were downcast.
He was like a culprit before a judge.
Suddenly she extended her hand.
He raised his eyes and saw hers, through
the cleaning, diffused with tender tears
of love.
eff you have only pity for ne" he
began.
'Pity! No! Or pity and something
else yes. When you abdicated your
own 9aance of life for a man who had
done you such harm; when you conquered
your desire for revenge and yourself, you
did that which more than atoned for the
follies aud sins of a reckless youth. And
now you have told me that you love me.
You know that / mourned that man
Roger Sherman. But ] knew nothing of
bis past. Now I do know"
She paused and Host looked at her.
For it was Horst. How Sherman had
been lost that night of the wreck a year
before and Horst saved was one of the
mysteries of that awful hour. Horst
only remembered that when he had
stepped back to give Sherman his chance
Of life, there had suddenly been a rush of
waters in his ears, followed by a surging
olackness around him. Madly he had
thrown a clutch out at something, and
then he found himself clinging to the side
Of the boat.
Everything between that moment and
the hour when the boats were taken up
a sailing vessel the next day was a
blank, out of which there started dis
sinctly one remembrance only-the sight
IF Rosalys's white face, still quiet, still
composed. He had come back to civil
sation to find himself the heir TO a small
fortune left him by a distant relative, to
whom his wild career in Australia had
oeen unknown. And he had come back
% more-to a desire for a respectable life,
emphasized a thousandfold by the love
which had now grown into a holy pas
ZION.
At this instant a great and wfndrous
lopt8f love returned arose in his heart.
Trembling he put it from him.
"But think what my life has been2
Think"
II think only that I love you," was
The simple answer. Then she smiled
sadly, divinely. "No more wild oats!"
lhe said.-Mew York Mercury.