The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1893-11-01

| S~--~ ~-~
But whether calm or frantic,
| hear you calling low,
| In voice unheard by others,
| In words none others know;
| And you bid me come unto you,
| To calm rest far down below.
Whene'er you roll in in splendor:
| With long, majestic sweep,
| Whene'er you dash with fury
| And up the high cliff leap,
! know you want me, want me,
| And long to be at rest,
Beneath your storms, far down below,
In lasting calm to rest.
And I hope that death Will come to me
| On the river or on the sea,
That the voice that lie calling me ever
Shall make my weary soul free.
They are calling me, calling me, calling me,
The waters 30 deep and swift,
That long to plunge into their current
| And out on their bosom drift.
| Immediately after the trial, as Mark
| persisted in refusal to pay the fine as
| sessed against him, he was taken in
charge by Constable Atlee and led away
to an unused log house in the outskirts
of the village, where he was securely
bound and left alone. his guards taking
good care that the one door was we'll bolted
from the outside.
This was iIThe afternoon, toward SUM-
set, and as the cabin was growing dark,
supper was brought him by his jailer.
Then the long night set in.
Notwithstand the vexations OF the
day, Mark slept we'll, but toward day.
break be became restless and was troubled
with dreams. He seemed to be back In
old England again, and his dear wife's
hand was upon his head. His life there
he lived over, half waking, half dream
ing. The causes which resulted in his
emigration to the new world passed In
review before him, and then he took up
his life in Ssgnsuck. Each event stood
out with startling distinctness. The per-
yecution of the church, the death OF his
loved wife, the struggle for existence, all
came back as he lay bound upon that
cabin floor.
After a time his dream changed, or
perhaps he fell asleep. This time he was
In old England again as before, and for
some reason had been cast into prison.
While lying upon his narrow cot, he could
hear tho footsteps Of his jailer drawing
nearer and nearer until they stopped be-
fore his cell door. The bolts we're
drawn aside, and, instead of his jailer.
Achsah Granville appeared.
He started and half awoke. Surely no
heard an unusual rustic about the cabin
door. He raised himself upon one elbow
and listened, but all was still, and, fall.
ing back, he dozed again. He dreamed
that he was lying ip the cabin sleeping,
and lat Achsah, the minister's daugh-
ter, came and entered the door, Every
point in that dream PASSED WITH slognsss
end distinctness He Seemed first to see
tees coming up the path from the village,
then pause before the door Of the cabin.
lift her hands and tug at the bolt until it
was Withdrawn. then all, that was q
dre.m!-enter, draw knife from her
SirSle and Gu. the cords which bound
him. - L.. - ~,
The strangeness of the dream caused
him to start and half raise up. The door
was open. His bonds were cut. and he
was free.
For moment he stood in the cabin
collecting his thoughts. Then, with firm
step and unhesitating manner, he took q
direct course for the river, which wound
halfway round the village.
1t was mile away, and the woods were
dark, but he reached it 10 half an hour.
He knew the country and the river well,
and in few moments came TO rugged
old elm tree, to the roots Of which ca
noe was tied. He cut the bark which
bound it to the root, gave it push out
into the middle Of the stream, and began
floating downward toward the free sea.
In all this there was not a moment OF
hesitation.
The darkness of nioht began to fade
from the sky, and faint tinge OF, gray
spread over the earth. The sun was
dra wing nearer, and the forest was wax
ing up to new life. Down deep among
the trees on either side he could see long
stretches of blackness like the straight
branches Of q pine tree, reaching out
from the river. He foated on, and by
and BY these dark avenues between the
trees grew lighter, and the forest ghost
ly. The stiffness Of the early dewn was
oppressive. In the dense darkness
sound could be heard now and then, but
as day began to approach there was
scarcely rustic among the limbs.
And through this the river wound.
flowing slowly but deeply to the sea, and
in the midst the fugitive foated. =,
At times the bank was low, and sloped
down to the waters edge, and again 1t
arose above the water level, and left its
crumbling sides to wear away and fall
with thud and splash into the water be-
VI.
of giant tree stood out bare and
reached down into the stream, q
resting place for fish, which the boys of
Sagnauck would have been glad to find.
And then, aglin, the oanks drew closer
together, the stream became deeper, the
limbs Of the water elms ovsrlapPed, and
the boats course was through leafy
roadway of fallen autumn leaves. A turn
in the river and the current ruehed moro
rapidly, the leaves were hurled and
crowded back to the shores, clear, swift
current swept onward, snd the canoe.
with it's solitary boatme2, with 1t.
Birds we're sounding n note here and
there from the depths of the forest. Gray
dawn was passing away and the skies
were growing lighter. The early risers
| of the birds had called to their COM
panions, and the woods on each side
resounded with the matin song OF New
England's unbound singers.
The gray dawn passed away; the skies
grew lighter; the ccol autumn night be-
came mil6cr; overhead the sky was clear;
eastward, through the woods, vistas OF
| LIGHT we're opening; and shadows were
.lonino westward. The morning had
come, and the fugitive was drifting on
ward through borders of leaves, meath
woodland arches, with song of birds in
the new day, oawssd 10 tho great fseo sea.
| The sea, tie sea, the oeeu zoe,
Tho blue, the fresh, the evsr free
A terrible mcnster is it, nevertheless,
to all who bow not to its majesty, yet
flee is it, and free it crowns each one who
comes to it. With me:oiless calmnssS 1t
rolls its long hillows up upon tho sho:o,
bearing It's yea~eed and fragments Of
| and NTH rnian,lnrc H1i11. II dnshas