Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1893-03-09
4 BLRIEGAf LEGEND.


three men stood together on Barne-
gat Beach. They were Job West,
Hugh Green, and Stephen Brewer.
job and Hugh we're men well past
middle life, and their faces we're so
hardened and scanned by the many
gales they had braved that all traces
Of human feeling we're battered out
of them. But stephen was much
younger. n fact. "a - !,
e6sse1 sfi6 ihreshelt d manhood
and in bis face, though bronzed
and weather-beaten, could still be
seen some glimmer of the soul-light
within. They had been watching
the beach for several hours, but the
storm had increased to such blind
ing fury that they were about to
abandon the patrol.
Thar amt no use.' said job
West "a stayin' out in this yer gale,
fur if anything did come on, yer
couldn't see it, or git to it in this
yersee Whew = as an extra strong
blast swept by, dashing the sharp
rain in his face. Did you ever see
such dirty night All h must
be out on q spree. Blast me if it
hint blowed out the beacon 4! That's
the first time / ever seed that. Yer
couldn't hev fixed her well, Steve
But l did ? said Steve. 'And
it was blazin' like mad five minutes
ago. Wasn't it, Hugh
'Ay, lad; but that doan't make
no differince now. 1t are gone,
sure, and yer best haste to build it
agin, or some poor devil may lose
his way in the dark
Steve strobe off to where the bea-
con had been burning. He soon
reached the spot, and saw to his as
constituent that some human pow
er, and not the storm, had put out
the fire, for the brands were scat
tered in all directions.
Z With n muttered oath of amaze
ment he gathered them mp again,
and had just struck light on his
flint, when a hand was laid on his
arm. He dropped the flint. and
turned quickly to face young girl,
who, wrapped in a shawl, stood
shivering at his side.
Nancy p he cried, what in Gods
name fetched yer ont this time O.
night, in this yer storm p
'The beacon, Steve;' she replied,
half gasping. The beacon 1t
wouldn't let me sleep. I've been
a rollin' and a tossin' in bed for
hours. Every time I'd shet my
eyes I'D see it blazin' up, and ev-
cry time the wind whistled around
the house I'd hear the cries and
yells of the dyin' folks it had drawn
on. o Steve, if yer love me, fer
Gods sake doan't yer light it agin
ter-night p
The girl buried her face in her
her hands. Steve stared stupidity
at her. Nancy West was his be-
trothed wife. He had long known
that her sympathies were not with
the wreckers, but never suspected
that she would do anything like
this. and he could not comprehend
il. Stephen was not essentially a
bad man. Had any one suggested
to-him to murder a man, he would
have made him rue the insult; but
trained from childhood to consider
the wealth that sailed the ocean biz
lawful prey, he looked upon strand.
ing q ship as hunter does upor
bringing down deer. II human
lives were lost, it was only part o.
the drama, not his fault.
Nancy lifted up her face to him
and q fair, sweet face it was, will
deep blue eyes, and long light hai
that had escaped from the shaw
and was streaming in the wind.
yer won't light it, Steve!
know yer won'tv =
Steve's brow clouded.
1T pears to me, Nance, you al
maxim q terrible fuss over moth
ing. II this war any new thinl
thar might be some sense in it; bu
you've seed it since yer was baby
and likes not hev helped the oil
man to light it yerself ?
Il know it, Steve, and God for
give me for it +! But don't yer d.
it agin tonight, for something tell
me it viii bring us black sorrow.'
She clasped her hands on hi
arm, and sobbed.
Nance you are clear daft ! Wha
will the old man