The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-02-21

| tigo's van set him down, with a carpetbag.
| bandbox and chest of books, at the door OF
| the lodgings which Deacon Snowden had
| taken for him. The house stood in the
| North street, as 1t Is called. 1t was
| small. yellow-washed building, contain
| ing lust half a dozen rooms, and OF
| these the two set apart for the minister
| looked straight upon the harbor. Under
his sitting-room window was little gar
| den, and at the end of the garden low
| wall, with stretch of water beyond it and
| bark that lay at anchor but stones
| throw away, as it seemed, its masts over
| topping the misty hillside that closed the
view. A green-painted door was let into
| the garden wall-a door with two flaps,
| the upper of which stood open; and
| through this opening he caught another
| glimpse of gray water.
The landlady, who showed him into this
room and at once began to explain that
the furniture was better than 1t looked,
was hardly prepared for the rapture with
which he stared out of the window. His
boyhood had been spent in a sooty Lam
cashire town, and to him the green garden,
the quay door, the bark and the Silly
water seemed to fall little short of para
disc.
81 reckoned you'd like it." she said.
AN to be sure, It's blessing you do"
He turned his stare upon her for mo-
ment. She was benign-looking woman
OF about 90, in a short-skirted gray gown
and widows cap.
"Why do you say that?"
because, leavin' out the kitchen, there's
but four rooms, two for you an two for
me; two facIn' the harbor, an two facin'
the street. Now, if you'd take dislike to
this lookout | must ha' put you over the
street an moved in here myself. / do like
the street. too. There's SO much more
doin'."
81 think this arrangement will be better
in every way" said the young minister.
I'm main glad. Iss, there's no deny
in that Pm main glad. From upstairs
you can see right down the harbor, which
is prettier again. Would'ee like to see it
now? o. course you would-an' it'll be so
much handler for answerin' the door, too.
There's back door at the end O. the pas
sage. You've only to slip bolt an you m
out in the garden-out to your boat, if you
choose to keep one. But the gardens a
tidy little spot to walk up an down in an
make up your sermons, WI nobody to
overlook you but the folk next door; an
they'm churchgoers.
After supper that evening the young
minister unpacked his books and was
about to arrange them, but drifted to the
window instead. He paused for a minute
or two, with his face close to the pane, and
then flung up the sash. A faint north
wind breatbed down the harbor, scarcely
ruifiing the water. Around and above him
the frosty sky flashed with innumerable
stars, and behind the bark's masts, be-
hind the long chine of the eastern hill. a
soft radiance heralded the rising moon.
1t was the new moon, and while he waited
her thin horn pushed up. as it were,
through the furze brake on the hills sum-
NIT, and she mounted into the free heaven.
With upturned eyes the young minister
foil hnr Co.. 49,, ,4.e
not consciously observant, for he was
thinking over his ambitions, and at his
time of life these are apt to soar with the
moon. Though possessed with zeal for
good work in this small seaside town, he
| intended that Troy should be but a
stepping-stone in his journey. He meant
| to go far. And while he meditated his
! future, forgetting the chill in the night
| air, it was being decided for him by a
| stronger will than his own. More than
| this, that will had already passed into ac-
| ton. His destiny was actually launched
| on the full spring tide that sucked the
| crevices of the grey wall at the gardens
| end.
4 slight sound drew the minister's
| gaze down from the moon to the quay
| door, It's upper flap still stood open. al
| lowing a square OF moonlight to pierce
! the straight black shadow of the garden
| wall.
|
! framed the head and shoulders of a hu-
| man being.
| The young man felt a slight chill run
| down his spine. He leaned forwarded out
| of the window and challenged the appari-
ton, batting his tone as all people bate it
| at that hour.
"Who are your" he demanded, "and
| what is your business here?"
There was no reply for moment, though
| he felt sure his voice must have carried to
] the quay door. The figure paused for a
| second or two, then unbarred the lower
| flap of the door and advanced across the
| walls shadow to the center of the bright
grass plot under the window. 1t was the
| figure of young woman. Her head was
| bare and her sleeves turned up to the
| elbows. She wore no cloak or wrap to
cover her from the night air, and her
| short-skirted, coarse frock was open at the
neck. As she turned up her face to the
| window the minister could see by the
| moons rays that it was well favored.
| 'Be you the new preacher" she asked.
resting hand on her hip and speaking
| softly up to him.
~ am the new Independent minister"
| "Then I've come for you"
| "Come for me?"
"Iss; my names Nance Trewartha, an
| you 'en wanted across the water, quick as
possible. Old Mrs. SHADES a-dyin' to-
night, over yonder."
"She wants me?''
'She's Que O. your congregation, an
can't die easy till you've seen her.
| reckon she's got something pom her
| mind; an | was to fetch you over, quick
| as | could"
| AS she spoke the church clock down in
| the town chimed out the hour. and imme-
| diately after, ten strokes sounded on the
| clear air.
| The minister consulted his own watch
| and seemed to be considering.
Very WELL" said he after a pause
"Ill come. suppose must cross by the
| ferry"
"Ferry's closed this two hours, an you
| needn't wake up any in the house. I've
| brought fathers boat to the ladder below,
an I'll bring you back again. You've only
wrap yourself up, for it's brave DIS
| lance"
Very well. I suppose it's really seri-
| GUS"
Mortal. I'm glad you'll come" she
| added simply.
The young man nodded down in a
| friendly manner, and going back into the
| room. slipped on his overcoat, picked up
| his hat, and turned the lamp down care
| fully. Then he struck match, found his
| way 10 the back door and unbarred it.
| The girl was waiting for him, still in the
| center of the grass plot.
I'm glad you've come" she repeated,
| but this time there was something like
| constraint in her voice. As she pulled-to
| the door softly she moved, and led the way
| down 10 the water side.
From the quay door long ladder ran
| down to the water. At low water one had
| TO descend twenty feet and more; but now
| the high tide left but three of its rungs
e 10. nrts-