Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-03-12

iOT nsr,p11Tc.N7Ntle Grace is very sick
and / fear. Sh&has played between
decks. you know. I>SRaII stay oy the
poor child. of course. wee care OF
your dear self. Your MAH4i
what are you going to do>~ JOG
demanded, drawing near.
''Keep that thing away from me. ~
going to wash my hands with vinegar as
soon as l can"
- shall 60 to her"
"Don't come back to my room"
Don't tremble; won't"
Joe raped on the door OF Mary's
stateroom. Eyes, Herbert" came the
answer, and through the crack appeared
the girls bright, rapturous face.
'Oh, IT'S only you!" she exclaimed,
and anxiety returned.
~ came TO offer my help" said Joe.
"And-and the Major sends his dearest
love"
"Why didn't he come himseli?"
WHATS this, young man, what are
you doing here?" rasped gruif voice,
and Joe, turning, confronted the ships
doctor.
u wanted to be Of some use" he fal-
tered.
Eyes. aud you've only made bad
matter worse. l was about TO seQueSt-
rate these two young people, and now
Eve got you on ny hands, too. It's
enough to drive d man wild. There's
no system, no discipline; | have no
nurses, no appliances. The disease is
spreading, aud here you blunder-"
"Oh, but you can depend on me, be-
Ileve me. Let me carry the little girl.
She was Away fond OF me-
Through the saloon, which was very
clear before them, fastened the three,
the stricken child close TO Joe's heart,
her tiny arms claSped about his neck.
Poor simple Joe, How the Major would
have laughed had he known his delight
from that cOnfding embrace. When
they reached the remote room Joe laid
his charge on the couch, and saying,
"PH forage for comforts, hurried
away, soon to return heavily laden. And
Mary watched him with eyes heavy
with regretful knowledge.
Come, my fine fellow, what shall l
the suspicion of rasp.
ooh, you can't discharge me-" re-
piled Joe, lightly. I'm going with you
into the steerage."
But" expostuated Mary.
"There are no butts, my dear. After
all, what difference can it make?"
What difference, indeed, to poor Joe,
who welcomed this cataclysm as
refuge from despair; yet, ali! what a
difference 10 the writing wretcheS be-
low. who found hope in those fierce
black eyes and courage from the light
of that long white face, and who wei
coined that uneven step as the glide OF
a ministering angel What difference,
indeed, did his constant brotherly So
llcitnde make to Mary in her extremity,
q difference bitter in its very tender
ness from the contrast which it forced.
And the great ship sped toward her
home, which was 10 prove rampant
armed against her; and denser and more
noxious grew the cloud that encom-
passed her. The Major boosted or walled
as stimulaut waxed or waned. The
DenningS and the Changers prayed for
their children even while deSPairing Of
their own safety. And night after
night the following pillows shrank back
from the CHASTITY jetsam that plunged
through their foam.
All, bitter is that frost which just
precedes fruition. When the port was
gained and safety within arms reach,
then the stern veto OF quarantine caused
even the resolute to blanch and quake.
To the Major the inhibition was the
cut OF the scissors Of fate. II was late
one night that a stalwart form slipped
over the rail Of the steamship and
stealthily dropped into the chilly waters
OF the bay. The skies were heavy,
the east wind was rising, the
tide was tumultuous and ad-
verse; yet with desperate en-
energy the swimmer maintained dog
ged advance toward the shore. That
grim gray light which spreads before
sunrise was touching the face of the
earth with a corpse-like hue when he
rested exhausted on the beach. For a
moment only. The rude seafaring in
habitants were alert against such fugi-
tives. Their pickets espied and seized
him. Under guard and followed by q
rabble OF the misguided and ths vicious
whom panic always joins as allies,
be was led to the wharf TO
be returned TO the steamer. To
be returned to that haunt Of
pestIlence. As soon as the prisoner per-
ceived his fate there was a struggle, q
blow, a dash for freedom, and he was
lying over the dunes with the bowling
pack behind him. He was gaining, his
escape was certain, when there was a
shot, a Stagger, q fall. Then silence
and solitude, save for the twittering
WRITINGS Of sharp-eved birds, and Ma
Tor Herbert Knox lay with his face to
the break OF day at peace from that ter
ror of which he was victim.
Disaster moves not IN circles; Its paths
have well-defned ends. At length the
ships were released, the dead buried.
the convalescent discharged. The great
hospitals were vacant, but In the doc
tors quarters an anxious little knot was
watching by a bedside. Uuscathed by
cholera, Joe Palmer had yielded to ex-
hauStion, and now was wasting under a
low, lingering fever.
"It's not that he must die, said the
ships physician with tremor, not a
rasp, "but he doesn't seem to care TO
live"
With sob, Mary Denning leaned by
the cot. "It does make difference,
deSr," she whispered, aud she kissed
the sensitive lips. The fierce black eyes
opened, and in them she read the Joyous
return OF life.