The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-12-01
grin at the accident, kissed him tender

He pressed her to him with unaccus-
toned force. Never, rel in the fierc-
est tempest. had he suffered as he suf-
fered now. Suspicion, entering his
simple, loyal heart, ravaged it terribly.
We'll, goodby. am going to the
harbor. We shall go out with the next
tide, if the backstay IS repaired. Good
by"
She accompanied him to the end of
the street and babe him farewell with
so frank an eye that he asked himself
if it were possible that such a woman
could lie.
He was about to go to the Harding
when n of the sailors saw him and
came after him. Compelled to return
to his vessel, he had time to reflect. A
sudden fit of rage. a fight, would prove
nothing, and he would never know the
truth.
So he calmly watched the work of
r%eparation, which was coming IN apace.
At 2 o'clock his wife brought him his
luncheon. At 5 his son came to kiss
him goodby, and that evening he set
sail again, after having seen the Har-
ding leave Treport for England.
The following Saturday, after a ter
rible tempest, the fishing fleet returned
to Treport. laden with a fine catch of
fish. Master Fournier looked quickly
to see if the English three master were
at the quay, but she vas not there.
DISSEMINATING, he learned that the
Harding had gone down in sight of
Spithead, and that all on board had
been lost.
Harry Evans, then, was dead. His
wife alone knew the truth. He would
not dare to question her. He would
never know the truth-he would doubt
her always!
From that time every one in Treport
remarked that Master Fourier had
grown taciturn. They asked his wife
the reason, but she replied evasively
that she did not know.
His sailors found him rougher than
before and more avariciols. He often
returned to Treport on Sunday morn
ing and left again the same evening.
without a nights rest.
One week he came back on Tuesday.
and the news spread that the St. Lau-
rent had brought back the corpse of a
drowned a According to the Gus
tom of that part of the coast, Master
Fourier had given orders to return to
port, losing his catch Of fish, in order
to bury the dead.
Accompanied by two of his sailors,
he made his deposition before the COM
missioner, and the latter had him sign
the declaration that 1.-The body of a
drowned man had been recovered by the
st. Laurent at a point Is miles SSW
of Spithead, measuring 5 feet 10 inches
in height, dressed in a blue wooden
shirt, trousers of gray cloth and necker-
chief of red cotton; no papers, no marks
to establish identity supposed, from the
place of drowning, in default of other
evidence, to have been one of the crew
of the Harding"
Early the next morning a funeral
procession traversed the village and bore
to the little church the remains of the
unknown sailor found by the st. Lau-
rent. Behind the coffin walked the
sailors of the st. Laurent, their master
at their head. and behind the men came
the wives Or mothers of the sailors.
The religious ceremony was brief,
but respectfully followed, and the un-
known dead was conducted to the Gem
etery by the great family of sailors of
Treport, who honor themselves in thus
honoring the remains of others.
"Get yourselves ready" announced
Master Fourier to his men. I'VE go
to sea directly"
Fourier led his wife to a little knoll
a few PAGES away from the cemetery.
He wished to speak with her without
witnesses.
WIFE" he said, "do you know for
whom you have come to pray?"
She trembled and pressed her hus-
bands hand. She had never seen him
so solemn.
1.-The man we have just buried was
Harry Evans-wait!'
Nine. Fourier turned pale. Her hus-
band rendered her a paper, stained as
if with water.
Wife, l have doubted you. My
punishment is to accuse myself of it. 1
read the letter he dared to write to you,
and | have been very miserable. The
other night when this drowned man
was found l alone searched him. could
not show to others. not even to the
commissioner, the only paper he had
on him, in a little bag of oiled silk. The
water had dimmed it a little, but l
have read it nevertheless"
1t was the answer written to the
handsome English sailor by Nine. Four
nier:
SIR-I love my husband. That is the sole
answer | can make to your letter. shall say
nothing to my husband, for he would kill you.
Never come here again.
Wife. do you forgive me?'
"Oh, my poor husband. how you have
sufferedi'
From that day Master Fournier grew
young and gay again. but nothing can
keep him from going out with all sails
set.-Translated For San Francisco