Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-04-08

was not blamed for it, however, for among the more or less closely related inhabitants of the island he was Karls nearest relative. The real reason for his refusal was not known to anyone. Only Marya suspected 1t, and was right in her suspicion. She said to herself that Hans did not wish to pain her by con- curing in this sentence of banishment against her lover. She was the only one who maintained silence about the affair. No one knew what she thought about it. On the day Jan had brought the news she had gathered together all her possessions, taken her child by the hand, left the lighthouse and had gone to live with her Aunt Meta.
 In the first days in her new home, Marya had frequently to leave the house, for she missed the free air, and the wide outlook from the tower. It seemed to her, at times, that she would choke within the narrow walls under the low roof, and, when she went out she was met by the dike, that, like the walls of prison, shut in her gaze from her beloved sea. Still Aunt Meta was l obliged to acknowledge that the rest less, alien spirit was now under con- trol, for Marya went about her duties with all humility, scorning neither wheel nor loom.
 The shoals soon arrived. All the boats that were spared by the great storm prepared for sea. They put out ! together and all hands were busy. Even the women were occupied, for ! they had to look after the supply of bait which was laboriously dug out of the sand very near the edge of the | water. Marya shared in this work as ! she had in all the household duties. She liked digging for the ''pieren,'' as the | leech-like worms were called, best of all, | for it took her to the shore beyond the inclosure of the dikes. Here were seen many women, with bodies bent, over ' turning the sand with their toothed spades. Marya worked zealously. She \ enjoyed the fresh sea breeze that famed her cheeks, the gray clouds that fioated about her, the sea gulls that Tapped and screamed about her, the sails that glided away in the distance-with nothing more to wish for, she dug away as eagerly as any of her companions.
 As the boats were to leave with the ' outgoing tide, the women had to work rapidly, for already the water had reached high tide. Suddenly there came | from the shore farther down, where the men were busy with their boats in the little haven, loud cry, followed by deathlike stiffness. They all stopped to listen, shading their eyes with their hands to see if they could make out what was going on. Marya felt her knees tremble and her blood cease to flow in her veins, for she was still sen- sitive enough to believe that every calamity upon their lonely island was directed toward her. "Marie!" escaped her white lips. Marie was, to be sure the cause of the outcry from the men, for the child, playing around unnoticed by anyone, had suddenly been discov- cred in great danger. But some one was bringing her safe and sound-of course it was good Hans Frerik- although drenched and trembling, to the shore In her play, the child had ventured out | too far; the tide had overtalzen her | while she was upon a hilloclx of sand, | and, in minute, had changed it into a little island, thus cutting off her retreat. | Water is poor conductor of sound; be- fore the men heard her cries, it had crept over her little feet, and an incom- | ing wave had thrown her down and A was carrying the little body onward with it. At that moment, Hans Frerik
 happened to look up from his work, and,
 with frantic dash, sprang into the
 water in the direction in which he had
 seen the little white face. Here and
 there the little wooden shoes rose to
 the surface-the waves seemed to play cricket with them.
 ''She is not hurt" said Hans, as Al
 other women. Take her home, put
 dry clothes on her and make her some
 tea.'
 Hans, won't you come after awhile
 and inquire about my child? beg you
 to do it," said Marya, who then hurried
 away to escape the curious crowd that
 was gathering.
 An hour later found Hans at Marya's
 house. She was sitting at her Aunt
 Metals wheel, while in her face the
 color came and went in quick fiushes,
 betraying her restless expectancy. On
 footstool at her side sat little Marie,
 busy with a little wheel, vainly trying
 to make it keep time with her mothers.
 "I have come because you asked me,
 said Hans. "How lucky that the salt
 bath did not harm the little rogue"
 Marya pushed aside the wheel and
 her basket of work and stepped close
 in front of the rescuer of her child.
 "Hans, I have something must say
 to you" but here she hesitated, though
 her hand still rested on his shoulder.
 Each suddenly felt hot flush glow on
 cheek and brow, while every breath
 came almost with little gasp, bat
 neither moved. Suddenly, as if by in
 spiration, Marya took her child in her
 arms and held her toward Hans.
 Marie, ask him to be your father and
 my husband, because we both love him
 better than all the wide world"
 "Marya, Marya, is this true?" cried
 Hans, as he clasped both mother and
 child ill his strong arms. She nodded
 and then for awhile Marie was entirely
 unnoticed, the two were so absorbed il
 eacn other. The child seized the oppor-
 tunity to try her mothers wheel, and
 as she carelessly tossed the wool and yarn about she began to sing:
 "A happy heart beats in my breast,
 But heavy weight upon it lies"