The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1890-10-10


them. Almost it would seem as if they
slept but here and there a wavering re-
Election of the moon which ever and anon
escaped from the feeces that sailed about
her, told that the unquiet heart of the
ocean was pulsing still, albeit silently
Harold Jerome stood leaning silently
over the rail, seemingly lost to his sur
roundings dreaming Of the land he had
left or the land to which he was return
mg-a stalwart, manly figure, cut clear
against the mingling sea and sky.
And yet he was not thinking of any
spot on which his wandering feet had
trodden, nor was he fondly dwelling on
the home to which he was bound, as his
eyes traced the broad plain of waters; he
was listening, heart and soul, TO the voice
chat was caroling forth so sweetly the
words of song familiar to his youth.
Youth Had he lost it in the alien
countries he had visited the banks
Of the Rhone, in the Scottish hills of
heather, in the shadows of the snow-clad
Alps, in the valleys beside the Rhine
Nay; but the white hands of the singer
yonder had torn it from his heart ere he.
had gone roaming.
So strange that they should meet
again after all the long years of their
severance and meet on board vessel
bound for the land in which they parted;
yet SO they had met, two days before,
and looked in each others faces with the
blank, unrecognizing gaze of strangers.
"She has wholly forgotten. Low,
sweet and clean her voice is-one is re-
minded of the German legends Of the
Lorelei, said Harold bitterly to him
self, as out on the night rang the strains
Of Larboard Watch.
Far up in the shrouds sailor took up
the refrain and sang it softly, below his
breath. In England bonnie lass had
sung itfor him many time and oft, and
her healthy, rosy face arose before the
mental vision Of the sailor as he sang so
softly.
But the face of the woman sitting in
the fading and flashing light ofthe moon
was the only object visible to Harold
Jerome. Although his eyes were turned
to the waters he saw it as it looked in
the hour of their parting white, and set,
and scornful, because he had said words
which might not be forgiven and doubt
had crept in where love and faith had
stolen first.
1t was very little thing that parted
US, he whispered very low at last;
q lovers unreasoning jealously, as I
knew later. Tknew itwhen it was too
late, my lost Lucille, and oh, how per-
fectly you have forgottenl"
He turned and looked at her; fair
still, for all the years that had passed
since she had loved him; stately, calm,
perhaps a thought too cold, but still q
gracious woman; surrounded by her
friends, clad IN long robe which looked
almost white in the uncertain light, with
her darkly crowned head against the
back of her steamer chair, she looked
one who had set her foot on all remem.
berance which could bring regret; and
from her lips rang the old, old song
"Larboard Watch Ahoy!"
"She has forgotten; why is she still
reserved?" he asked himselfas he watch
ed her. 81 would be tempted to films
myself on my knees before her there
and pray her for at least a kindly though
but that I know that love, burning on
once, leaves only ashes behind which
any breeze may scatter and no powel
warm.
The captain and first mate present.,
passed close by him.
"Those clouds mean storm, sir, " tn
mate was saying; best be prepared t
meet it."
eyes, answered tbs captain SCANNING
arolling mass in the southwest wit
anxious eyes; we're in for gale, o
I'm mistaken; but we mustn't alarm tn
passengers.
They then passed beyond hearing an
Harold turned again to the sea.
No longer like a sheet of silver, WIT
uyering reflections here and there,
was suddenly growing dark and Sulle
Iaok;np. and faint flecks of foam marke
H. 1,fllOxvc