Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-05-14

never get further. he always grounuou
on this reef Of gold, aud no Tide
Of Indignation or regret, no generous
current of honor, had power to sweep
him of again into the saving waters.
Here the farce rays Of desire shot down
upon the resplendent heap, whose re-
Elected glory filed the whole vision OF
the watcher with its lustre. Blame
him not too much, nor 1t. Fol after
all man is but man, and gold Is a thing
Of comfort. -,
But had Capt. Anderson followed his
mental Inquiries to q conclusion, a
he demonstrated to himself the deptn
OF moral degradation into which ne
must be plunged, his pride would never
have allowed him to do anything but
redeem his unuttered word.
AS an illustration Of the Captains
lately-acqulred habit Of indulgence, the
most remarkable was his treatment OF
the watch on deck during the night.
The man on the lookout, for instance,
was in the habit Of going TO sleep II the
weather made it all practicable. Inc
rest Of the watch, some fifteen or TWEEN
ty hands, followed suit, or even skulk-
ed back into the fo'castle, there TO
stretch themselves out on their chests
and smoke. These things the Captain
connived at, and the men were only TOO
glad of the relief to inquire too curious
" into his reasons. The main object OF
a sailing-ship sailor is to gain as mucn
sleep as he can by whatever means, ana
in pursuit Of this end he will evade even
those duties which are the most essen
tial TO the safety Of the ship.
One night during the middle watch
the captain came on deck and took TO
walking up and down with the second
mate. The hight was clear, though
dark. The Chrysolite was c~lose-hauled
on the s~tarboard tack and was making
good Roadway under a clinking breeze.
She was an old-fashiOned, frigate-bullt,
full-rigged ship, such as n seldom
happens on now, her qusrter-galleries,
chain-plates, topgallant 6ulwarKs and
single topsall yards being all out OF date
among the shIpbuilders Of to-day. 1t
has been said that she had "rare
lines" aud toe remark was just. A more
imposing pile of timber was posi-
bly v floated. She had plenty OF
beam to cope with the South Atlantic
wave giants, and not too much sheer.
Her fiddle stem was gracefully cut, ana
harmonized 10 perfection with the slight
rake aft of her lofty mastS. Her spars,
also, were finely proportional to the
breadth Of her hull. So that, with her
| canvas spread in an u~nwavering breeze,
the Chrysolite was a stately creature
and "a thing Of beauty"
''Mr. Grant," said the Captain, ad-
dressing his subordinate officer, "be
good enough to take a star and WORK
out the ships position"
The second mate quickly fetched his
sextant, and took the altitude OF a star
convenient for his purpose. He then
went below to the cabin TO perform his
calculations. The lookout man, q ready
| sleeper, was in a heavy slumber, upon
which the stiffening breeze made no ef-
feet. The rest of the watch had disaD'
peared in the customary fashion. Capt.
Anderson was practically alone on deck.
He walked forward, leaned over the
weather rail, and directed his glass. He
saw just exactly what he expected to
| see. There, right ahead In the distance,
the binoculars showed a long, thin
streak Of sparkling silver, appearing
like q lightning fash held fast between
the darkness and the deep sea. 1t was
phosphOrescent water playing on a sand
bank.
Anderson put the glass into his
pocket. He was sullen and determined.
He stood ~motionless for full half an
hour, trying to repress the workings Of
an aroused conscience, but his thoughts
would not let him alone. There was
something behind them, some new SEN
~sations, which set them buzzing In his
mind. These sensations were his finest
feelings, ennobliDg emotions which had
been cramped in the grip of discipline
for forty years. He could net compre.
bend it, but he found himself pursuing
a train of thought Of finer senslbility
than be had ever experienced, and In
which the great bride had no place. He
fo~reshadowed in his minds eye the tragic
events over which he was now presid-
ing. He foresaw the danger TO life
and limb with q fresh clearness OF
vision. He pictured to himself the pos
sible agonies of his fellow creatures
(never once thinking Of his OWN with
a sentiment much akin to pity-strong,
toe, but not sufficiently strong to over
come that unbendlng pride which for
babe him for honor's sake TO go back
upon his promise. Then there was the
doom Of the ship itself
The man is not angry, much less fear
full: bnt his lips are quivering and his
n~ostrils widening with a passion hither-
TO unknown. He sees the picture vivid
ly-a majestic, gallant ship done to de-
structiSn-a rich, ruined seaman wan
dering on earth with a broken heart In
a d%ishonored bosom. Not only q gal
liant ship, but a lifelong pride and the
fullness Of q hearts desire swept reck-
lessly into limbo. Here at last had his
love revealed itself.
mo, by God, she shall not perishl"