The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1891-03-18

the passengers-not an easy matter In
o raging sea. The patience Of the Off
GERS was tried to the utmost. Strong,
rude men would try to push women and
children aside in their wild efforts to be
first to enter the liie-boats, only to be
driven back by the ships officers at tho
noses OF their revolvers. Occasionally one
more daring than the rest would thrust
woman aside and try to pass her, but
with blow from tho butt end of his re-
volver, the captain would knock him
senseless, with the promise OF similar
treatment to the next who should dare
to make the attempt
All this time the ship was rapidly
filling and 1t became apparent beyond
o peradventure that before many more
minutes the "Dunro5in Castle" would
sink forever into the depths OF the
ocean. 1t required several trips Of the
life-boats to transfer all the passengers,
butthis difficult task was finally accom-
plished. The last load was being taken
and none but the officers were supposed
to be on board, when suddenly the two
detectives in charge Of Velasquez came
rushing up the companion ladder excit-
edly exclaiming: eve can not reach the
pris6ner What shall we do?"
What should have been thought OF
sooner, said the Captain. Follow mep'
he shouted. "We will rescue him II 1t
is possible"
"Let him go" said ono of the detec-
tives. He'll be hung anyhow" But
the, Captain knew that although tho
prisoner was accused, he was not yet
found guilty and his brave heart would
not permit him to leave even such cur
as Velasquez to horrible death with
out an effort to rescue him.
Accompanied by one OF the officers
the big-hearted commander hurried
down the steps on to the cabin deck,
from whence he attempted to descend
to the lower deck on which Valasquez
was confined. But brave as the old
Captain was, there was an obstacle In
the way which even he was powerless
to overcome. The water was up too
high and the rescuers could 60 no
further. Already the imprisoned man
must be driven back to his bunk near
the top Of the room in which he was
confined; the wretched prisoner could
not pass out now alive, and certainly
none could reach him. Doubtless he
was alive-just alive-his life's span
now to be measured by moments. Now
hecould see how relentlessly the mills Of
retribution grind--so surely-so surely
so surely-aye, and so quickly, so much
more quickly sometimes than even
those who manipulate the machinery Of
the mills can foresee. Almost Velasquez
had paid to the uttormost tho penalty
OF his crime committed long years be-
fore in the sunny Californian valley
almost
The ship might go down at any mo-
ment now, and unless his would-be res
cuers at once retraced their steps they
might go down with 1t, 30 with regrets
the Captain led the way to tn" eek.
Sorrowfully he took his place in the
life-boat, and. as the sailors pulled
away, be looked longingly at the old
ship that had carried him through so
many thousands Of miles Of fair and
stormy weather. Before they reached
the waiting steamer tho "Dunrobin
Castle" settled on her beam ends and
sank In old ocean with q mighty rush,
taking with her, TO higher tribunal
than that OF man, Leon Valasquez.
1t was tragic death. In some sense
It was too grand death for so mean q
man-to exchange the ignominy Of the
gallows and the felon's grave In prison
yard for burial beneath the rolling
waves OF the Atlantic, coflned in a
noble ship And yet 1t was horrible
end-a lonesome, solemn end, for tho
man who had lived in tumult and OK
citement all his days TO moet the Grim
Monster and Great Avenger albne with
his torturing memories OF the past-to
know, while the mercilesS flood closed
over him, that he died unmourned and
nuregretted.
Perhaps 1t was POOR satisfaction to
the widow OF Mario Delaro TO know that
her husbands murderer, the destroyer
OF her happiness, was mover convicted
OF his crime-but when Leon Velasquez,
ono Of the meanest villains who ever
trod this earth, went into the unseen
world to meet his Maker, IL surely was
a powerful illustration Of that infallible
truth:
Though the mills Of God grind slowly
Yet they grind exceeding SMALL
Though with patience stands He waiting.
With exaotness grinds He all"
Not long ago a small wedding party
passed down tho carpcted steps of
church in New York City, Tho princi-
pals OF that party were a handsome,
sunburned man Of forty years and a
lovely woman many years younger.
They seemed very happy they ,cere very
happy. They were Percy Lovel and his
wife-whom wo have known 80 long as
Armida Delaro.
On tho same day there loft from one
of tho poorer French lodglng-houses
near Leicester Square, London, funer-
al hearse and one mourner's carriage.
In that hearse lay the body OF Emile
Bregy, and in the carriage was man
who looked tho picture Of misery--his
name was Eugene Bregy-a living ex-
ample Of "what might have been."
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