The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1891-01-31

Jestam of previous storms-but as
yet. it is perhaps needless to say
not the treasure.
To day she was filled with the
vague hope of making her discovery
before Christmas Day. To have
been able to take her father some
thing on that day-if only few ole
coins-the fruit of her own unsus.
pected labor and intuitlon-not the
result of vulgar barter or menial
wage-would have been complete
happiness. 1t was perhaps some
what visionary expectation for an
educated girl of IS, but | am writ
ing of young California girl, who
had lived in the fierce glamor OF
treasure-hunting, and in whose SEN
sitive individuality some of its subtle
poison had been instilled. Howbeit,
to day she found nothing. She was
sadly hiding her pick and shovel. as
was her custom, when she discov-
cred the fresh track OF an alien foot
in the sand. Robinson Crusoe was
not more astounded at the savage
footprint than Jennie Miller at this
damning proof of the invasion of her
sacred territory. The foot prints
came from and returned to the copse
of shrubs. Some one might have
seen her at work
But a singular change in the
weather overlooked in her excite
ment, here forced itself upon her. A
light film over sea and sky, lifted
only by htful gusts of wind, seemed
to have suddenly thlckened until it
became an opaque vault, narrowing
in circumference as the wind in-
creased. The promontory behind
her disappeared, as if swallowed up,
the distance before her seemed to
contract; the ocean at her side, the
color of dull pewter, vanished in a
sheet of slanting rain, and by the
time she reached the house, halt car
ried along by the quartering force Of
the wind, full gale was blowing.
1t blew all the evening, reaching a
climax and fury at past midnight
that was remembered for many years
along that coast. In the midst of it
they heard the booming of cannon,
and then the voic-s of neighbors in
the road. There was, said the voices,
a big steamer ashore just atore the
house. They dressed quickly and
ran out,
Hugging the edge OF the copse to
breathe and evade the fury If the
wind, they struggled to the sands.
At first looking out to sea the girl
saw nothing but foam. But follow
ing the dire ton of a neighbor's
arm, for in that wild tumult man
alone seemed speechless, she saw di-
rectly before her, SO close upon her
that she could have thrown a pebble
on board the high bows Of a ship.
Indeed, its very nearness gave her
the feeling that it was already saved,
and its occasional heavy roll to lee
ward, drunken. helpless, ludicrous,
but never awful, brought hysteric
laugh to her lips But when livid
blue light, lit in the swinging top,
showed a number of black objects
clinging to bulwarks and rigging,
and the sea with languid, heavy
cruelty, pushing, rather than beating
them away, one by one, she knew
that Death was there. -~
The neighbors, her father with the
others, had been running hopelessly
to and fro, or covering in groups
against the copse, when suddenly
they uttered cry-their frst-of
joyful welcome. And with that
shout the man she most dispised and
hated, Sol Cathin, mounted on a
calico" mustang. as outrageous
and bizarre as himself, dashed among
them.
In another moment, what had
been fear, bewilderment, and hesi-
tation, was changed to courage, con-
fdence, and action. The men pressed
eagerly around him, and as eagerly
under his quick command.
Galloping at his heels was the team
with the whaleboat, brought from
the river miles away. He was here,
there, and everywhere catching the
line thrown by the rocket from the
ship, marshaling the men to haul it
in, answering the hail from those on
board above the tempest pervading
everything and everybody with the
fury of the storm loud, imperious,
domineerlng, self asserting, all suffi-
cient, and successful! And when the
boat was launched the last mighty
impulse came from his shoulder. He
rode at the helm into the first hang
ing wall of foam, erect and trlum-
phant Dazzled; bewildered, crying
and laughing, she hated him more
than ever.
The boat made three trips, bring
ing off, with the aid of the hawser,
all but the sailors she had seen perish
before her own eyes. The passen-
gers-they we're tew-the captain
and officers found refuge in her
fathers house, and were loud in their
praises of Sol Catlin. But in that
grateful chorus single gloomy voice
arose, the voice of a wealthy and
troubled passenger. | will give, he
said, $1,000 to the man who brings
me box of securities l left in my
stateroom. Every eye turned in
to Sol; he answered only
those of Jenny's. Say ten thousand,